Welcome to the Dark Library. Here you will find your fill of all deliciously dark goodies for your reading pleasure. FICS INCLUDE NON-CON/DUB-CON/VIOLENCE/SMUT. 18+ ONLY NO MINORS
Dark Marvel Character Masterlists
Dark Authors
Dark!Tropes Masterlist
MCU Library Dark!Author Q&A Masterlist
MCU Dark Library Agony Aunt
We are an inclusive blog reblogging dark Marvel fics. If you would to be included in any of our masterlists please fill in the submission form found here. Please ensure you have correctly labelled your fic with the appropriate warnings, including Dark! Don’t forget to tag us in your fics so we can reblog them!
Due to the dark nature of the fics reblogged and celebrated on this blog, this is an 18+ only blog. If you are under 18 please do not follow or interact with this blog and the blogs associated with it.
🖤 The MCU Dark Library encourages everyone to reblog and share the wonderful talents of this community, no matter how big or small your following is. Supporting each other is key to ensuring the longevity of this community. 🖤
Dark!Characters Masterlist
Dark!Authors Masterlist
Dark!Tropes Masterlist
Dark! Submission Form
Dark!Author Q&A Masterlist
MCU Dark Library Agony Aunt
Check out our sister blog MCU Library for all your softer, non-dark needs
An Ode: I thank all my fellow writers and readers who have supported me since a long time. Initially it was disheartening to loose all my works and followers, but all of you helped me get back to where I am. I am extremely thankful for your love, support and patience.
Honorable mentions: @imdarkinme @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @caffiend-queen @saiyanprincessswanie @sophiria @babiiface95 @mianorth @smutsonian @bonky-n-steeb @xsapphirescrollsx @buckysmischief @threeminutesoflife you have always been my source of inspiration, supporters and have taught me so much. Thank you so much!!
Special Thanks to: @notyourtypicalrose @nekoannie-chan for supporting me through out
Note:
Tags to use: #soul's400followerschallenege
Tag me @the-soulofdevil-reads and @the-soulofdevil
As mentioned before, fandom and characters of your choice.
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Incest, smut, violence, mentions of miscarriage, bad parenting, and generally sad and dark tones. 18+ only. Minors DNI
Summary: This is a story set in a GoT-themed scenario, where the reader and Steve are half-siblings, and children of the Warden of Brooklyn (South). You both hate each other and try to compete with each other until one of you rises above the other.
A/n: The story is available on my Ao3, here’s thelink.
This is the final chapter of this story. Thank you all for supporting this and I would love to hear all your thoughts on what you think about the ending and everything else. Love you all!
Chapter 32
Thirteen Years Later
The clash of sword on sword echoed through the air. Jaime struggled to match his father’s vigour in the pit, yet he put in his best effort. You knew that he would become better with time. The art of sword fighting was no child’s play.
Alyssa gasped in awe as she watched her brother and her father swing their weapons at each other. The six-year-old was cradled in your arms as you aided her to see into the pit from the balcony. She was all too delighted to see the harsh training unfold before her eyes.
“Can I learn it too?” She asked.
“If your father allows it,” you told her.
“He must! I want to do that too!”
Her eagerness made you smile. She was a chirpy little child. Her strength and determination always left you in awe. Though it often made you wonder if such beauty could ever come from a man like Steve.
“Well, I am certain that if you pester your father enough, he would agree to it,” you said as you looked at her.
She was the only one who could bend Steve to her will and more often than not, he had to fulfil her demands.
“You do know how to pester him, don’t you, princess?”
You playfully pinched her nose and placed a peck on her cheek. Alyssa giggled.
“Yes, I do!”
She clapped her hands in anticipation of arguing with her father to let her join Jaime in the pit. You were doubtful of whether Steve would allow it or not, he might not want a girl to learn the skills of a man. He might be too protective of Alyssa. After you had lost your last babe, you both held Alyssa precious to your hearts. He might not want to be as crude to her as he was with his son in the training pits.
“Come out from behind the shield, boy! Attack me. For how long will you keep defending yourself?”
Steve’s growl came with the loud clang of his sword crashing into the shield that Jaime used to cover his face. You never liked seeing your son’s troubled and fearful face. His father was relentless in swinging his sword, he was not pleased with Jaime’s inability to be as ferocious as him.
It was not his fault. He was just a boy, and Steve was menacing.
Steve took a few steps back and lowered his arm. He gave Jaime the chance to lower his shield as well and point out his sword. The beat of your heart ran faster as the father-son pair became tense and cold.
They circled each other on the ground. Steve waited for his son to charge at him. Jaime gave a short howl before he swung his sword at his father. He was able to defend each one of his attacks easily, and with the last one, he threw Jaime to the side.
The boy fell to the ground, earning a few snickers from the men around him. He clenched his jaw and fists. His bubbling anger did not mean any good for himself or Steve.
“On your feet, son. The men in battle would not wait for you to catch your breath.”
You sighed. Steve was always ready to make everything worse. That was why you preferred James to teach your son rather than Steve. He was calmer and more patient.
The knight stood near the wooden stand of swords, shields, and other arms, adjacent to his prince and King. Your eyes met with his, he resonated with the disappointment you had as well. He shook his head and shrugged at you, acknowledging that he was annoyed at Steve’s interruption of Jaime’s training as well. But he could not do much else than standing quietly at his place.
Jaime rose to his height slowly and turned to face his father with more determination. He attempted more skilled turns and twists, yet Steve tackled him well. His thoughts were fogged by his rage, you could tell from his forceful blows. He was trying to hurt Steve.
You winced along with Jaime and several others when Steve’s sword pierced a fine line into the flesh of his son’s cheek. Alyssa gasped aloud.
“Don’t lose your focus, son,” Steve spoke to him, sternly.
“This man,” you lamented to yourself.
You put Alyssa down on her feet and pushed her towards Sera.
“That is enough. Take her to her chambers or the garden,” you ordered the handmaiden.
Alyssa pouted at you. “But I want to see!” She stomped her foot on the ground.
“You have your needlework and reading to do, little girl,” you reminded her.
She puffed a breath out of her lips and folded her arms. You arched your brows at her.
“Sera will take you to the septa and I shall join you soon as well,” you assured the girl.
But Alyssa did not seem pleased at all when Sera took her away.
“I will have to talk to father,” you heard her tell the handmaiden.
You chuckled and sighed. You had no qualms about letting her observe the men’s training but you did not want her to witness the darker sides of her father and brother. Her love for them was untainted and she did not deserve to have it tarnished.
Jaime had become more furious once you returned your attention to the pit. You thought it best to go down there and intervene if required.
“Blind rage would not help you, boy,” you heard Steve say as you approached the pit.
Your gaze went to the freshly bleeding cut on Steve’s arm. While proud of Jaime, the use of real swords in the training bothered you. They both tended to lose their wrath and could hurt each other genuinely.
The murmurs around them grew excited as Jaime pushed forth harder. It took one hit from Steve to send the sword flying from Jaime’s hand, and a kick to his abdomen to make the boy fall in defeat.
The men around him laughed at him. Steve did not care for it, but you did.
A dirt and bruise-covered Jaime got up to his feet. Instead of attacking any further, he angrily threw his shield away and stomped his feet out of the pit.
“Don’t go and hide in your mother’s skirts!” Steve taunted him from behind.
Your bloodied and wounded son came near you.
“Son,” you called for him as you raised a hand to touch his face.
He slapped your hand away. “Get away from me!”
You noticed the tears in his eyes. They made your heart bitter. You let the poor boy run away from you and his father. You could talk to him later once you have given his father a scolding.
The laughter of the men died with your presence and they returned to their own chores and activities meanwhile Steve put down his weapon and armour.
“Did you have to be so harsh to our son?” You snarled at him.
“He needs a harsh hand to make him strong. You spoil and make him weak with your love,” Steve replied. “Do not get worried. I am doing it for his own good.”
“You did not have to hurt him,” you argued.
Steve tutted as he came towards you. “It’s sword fighting, not playing with dolls. He is bound to get hurt and you should not be, nor make him sensitive to small cuts and bruises. He’ll get plenty of them as he grows older.”
You shook your head at him. “Nothing good can be expected from you,” you scoffed at him.
You exchanged a last glance with James who had his head hung low before you scurried out of the pit. Steve muttered something about you making Jamie weak behind your back. You ignored him and rushed to your son’s chambers.
Two handmaidens stood in front of his door and became fearful at your sight.
“He won’t- he won’t let us in,” they justified.
“Has the Maester attended to him?”
“The Maester is doing that as we speak,” one of them said.
“Good,” you replied.
You walked past them and opened the door without Jaime’s permission. He was sat by the table with a squared jaw and clenched fists while Maester Coulson closed the open gash with stitches. Without his shirt, you could see the scars and bruises that the training had marred him with. He was no weak child.
“Don’t come inside!” He yelled at you.
He winced as the thread pulled.
“Remain still, my prince,” the Maester said.
“Don’t be stubborn now, Jaime. Maester, how long will it take to heal?”
“Not long if it is cared for properly. It is only a small cut,” Coulson answered.
The Maester cut the thread and gathered his equipment on the table as Jaime grit his teeth.
“Well,” Coulson picked up his bag and rose from the chair, “the prince shall be fine, your grace.”
“Thank you, Maester,” you told him with a brief smile.
You waited for the old man to leave before turning to your son. He clicked his fingers on the table and looked up at you with a scowl.
“I told you not to come,” he grumbled.
You sighed at him and sat down on the chair next to him. “I’m your mother, Jaime. What have you to be embarrassed about before me?”
Jaime clenched his jaw, lowering his head as he dug his nails into the wood of the table.
“He’d say that I hid under your skirts,” he mumbled.
His eyes were glassy with tears when he glanced at you.
“Oh, your father is a stupid man!”
You bent forward and cupped the left side of his face in your hand.
“You mustn’t let him bother you,” you advised.
“I don’t want to train with him,” he said.
“Ah, I am afraid that he is keen on teaching you by himself,” you leaned back on your seat and held his hand in yours to soothe him, “but he won’t always be able to. He has other matters to attend to.”
Jaime pouted his lips and clenched his jaw, turning his face away as frustration emerged on his face.
“You can learn to be better than him and one day you can return those bruises to him,” you said.
“I hate him! I don’t want to see him!”
Though his voice was filled with rage, his cheeks became wet with tears. He was overwhelmed by the humiliation caused by Steve and you hated to see it.
“Shh, my child,” you cooed as you hugged his head to your chest. He clung to you as he always did when he needed your warmth.
“You take after your father in your anger,” you jested.
Jaime pulled out of your arms and frowned at you.
“I am not like him!” He snarled.
“Oh, alright, my love,” you held his hand, “Come now. Do not sulk over him. Should I have something brought for you to eat?”
“No. I just want to be by myself for now,” Jaime said.
You nodded at him and got up from the seat. You took his face in both of your hands and placed a kiss on his forehead.
“You’re a prince, my dear, destined for the throne. Never forget that,” you said lastly.
Jaime pursed his lips and exhaled. Nothing seemed to satisfy him, but you hoped that he would soon forget the disagreements he had with his father.
***
The aroma of herbs and spices filled Steve’s solar. You anticipated the serving of the food and the arrival of your husband and daughter with a drink of wine. Jaime, on the other hand, had grown impatient in his seat beside you.
“Must I stay here?” Jaime asked.
He huffed and dropped his elbows on the long table as the handmaidens arranged the silverware and food on it.
“We are a family, we must behave as such,” you reverted.
“We are barely…if only Alyssa was not as aloof.”
“She is alright as she is, Jaime. Now, it is only a meal. We can have it in peace at least, can we not?”
Jaime grimaced at you and sighed.
“Fine,” he groaned.
Steve’s desire to have the family share their meals was not something you were against even if Jaime disliked it. It was a good way to bond. Alyssa and Steve had, but while you had learned how to contain your bitterness against your husband, Jaime had not. His recent conflicts with his father had further made it difficult for them to see eye to eye. Yet, you hoped that they would soon be like father and son should.
"I will! I will! I will!" Alyssa's chants came through the doors as she entered the solar holding Steve’s hand.
She was jumping on her feet, looking up at her father as Steve considered her with a concealed smirk. Unlike you and Jaime, Alyssa and Steve were joyful in whatever conversation they were having.
"You didn't even hear what I was going to say!" Steve contended.
"It doesn't matter…I will be able to do it!" She insisted.
Steve sighed as he led her to the table.
"Alright,” he said as he picked her up by her arms and placed her on a chair opposite to yours, “I will consider it."
"But that is not good enough!" Alyssa went on relentlessly as Steve took his place as the head of the table.
"Oh, you eat your food first, princess. To be good with the sword you'd need your strength and it won't come from avoiding those vegetables on your plate."
Alyssa folded her arms and huffed in aggravation. You chuckled to yourself as you understood the gist of their argument.
"Hey! Don't frown at me, young lady,” Steve playfully warned her.
Your daughter persisted with her grumpy face as she glared at her plate of food.
“What do you believe?” Steve turned to you. “Should we let Lyssa train in the pit?”
“Oh…perhaps, when you are a little older, darling.”
Alyssa pouted at you and shook her shoulders.
“That’s too long!”
“Patience is essential when you are learning the art of the sword, princess. You will not make any progress with that stubbornness,” Steve attempted to convince his daughter.
“Look at your brother,” he pointed an arm towards Jaime, “he struggles as well despite having been at it for years. But it takes resilience to continue with one’s training even after you face failures. To be a great swordsman like me, you would need to display a great amount of determination, strength, patience, and resilience, can you do that, princess?”
“Perhaps, we don’t want to be like you,” Jaime mumbled beside you.
“Oh heavens,” you muttered under your breath.
Jaime was already upset at the defeat that he took in the pit a few days ago and you became unnerved seeing that he did not take well to any remarks made on his skill with the sword. There seemed to be no end to their dispute no matter how much you wanted it.
“What?” Steve asked.
“I said,” Jaime placed his hands firmly on the wooden table and leaned forward to meet his father’s eyes, “perhaps, we do not want to be like you and maybe we do not need to be.”
“Jaime!” You put a hand on his shoulder, pleading with your eyes for him to not give air to the fire. But he seemed to be undeterred as he looked at you with defiance.
“What would be the meaning of that?”
Jaime shrugged. “It is what you take it to be.”
“You have some nerve talking to your father in this manner when you can barely hold the sword right,” Steve jabbed at him.
You put a hand on your forehead as they continued their pointless banter, throwing hurtful words at each other with no intention of making amends.
“I owe it to your teachings,” Jaime retaliated with a cocky grin.
“Is this what you have been teaching him? To talk in such an uncouth manner to his own father?” Steve questioned you.
“Steve, it’s–”
“And what have you to teach me, father?” Jaime interjected. “How to be a horrible man?”
Steve glared at his son in silence, pursing his lips and squaring his jaw.
“What have you gotten into your head, son?”
Jaime stared mockingly at his father. He smirked at him as he got up from his seat. He looked at Alyssa and then at Steve.
“If only I could say it,” he said.
He gave you a last glance before walking out of the solar. You cupped your mouth with your hand as a restless silence filled the chambers. The prick of nausea filled your stomach and stole your appetite. Jaime had gone too far with his words, too far for his and your own good and you dreaded to face Steve’s reaction to them.
Steve banged his fists on the table. The silverware clattered on the wood and Alyssa jolted in her chair.
“This is all your fault!” He yelled at you.
“Mother?” Alyssa called you. Tears were forming in her eyes.
“You! Take her to her chambers at once! She can eat there,” you ordered the handmaiden standing behind her.
Steve remained quiet. He fumed in his seat and glared at you as the handmaiden hurried Alyssa out of the chambers. Your heart thrummed fast in your chest. The meal had been spoiled so quickly. You could not save Jaime from it but you never wanted Alyssa to be affected by the failures of your marriage.
“Are you happy with all this?” Steve demanded through gritted teeth.
He hit the table with his fist as he rose to his feet to tower over you.
“Me? Are you?” You got up on your feet as well to return your anger to him. “Scaring your own daughter with your outrage?”
“And what about you and your son? What have you been feeding his mind with? Is that what you want Lyssa to see and hear? Do you want her to witness all this turmoil?”
“I have been feeding him nothing. He is your son, he acts on his own will,” you explained swiftly. “And perhaps it would do Lyssa good to learn early that it is an unjust and cruel world. I did as well.”
“She is the princess and my daughter. She doesn’t need to fear or prepare for any dangers,” Steve countered
You scoffed at him. “Oh, I wish it so, but there is no predicting nor stopping what cruel men get up to,” you said with all the mocking vitriol that you could muster.
Steve pressed his lips together. You could see the rage bubbling in his reddening face. It had been long since he had raised his hand towards you, but your body shrivelled as a learned instinct when he lashed his palm across your cheek.
You stumbled to your side due to his force and braced yourself by holding the table corner with one hand. You exhaled through your teeth as you clasped the burning skin on your face.
“What kind of mother are you? To wish that for your own daughter?” Steve growled at you.
You turned to him with fire in your eyes, irked by his audacity to slap you and accuse you of not being a good mother in the same breath.
“I love her more than you ever will Steve, and I will always protect her…but from what I have learned in my life, some men can rarely be stopped from doing what they want,” you said as you ran a disgusted gaze over his body, pointing it at his open hand.
Steve paused at your words. He looked at his hand then closed it, lowering it to his side. He turned away from you and shook his head.
“The past is in the past. It could have been forgotten and not brought into the lives of our children,” he said.
He sighed and stepped aside from where you stood.
“But you’re too selfish to do that, aren’t you?” He remarked, throwing a sneer at you.
He left you agitated as he marched off from the solar without giving you the opportunity to argue with him. You seethed at his words, balling your hands at your sides as you wished to yell at him with all your frustrations. But there was no use for that. Steve was who he was and there was nothing you could do to make him better. Even if you could not fathom how he was able to make you the culprit of the mishappening instead of taking any responsibility for himself, you had to make peace with it and tend to your children instead.
With the meal left uneaten and spoiled, you exited Steve’s solar as well. You went to Jaime’s chambers. While you understood why he spoke so to his father, you did not want him to sulk with such hatred for Steve. He was the prince, the one who was to ascend the throne, and he did not have anything to gain from squabbling with his King father other than soothing his own wounded pride.
As you reached Jaime’s bedchamber, you were greeted by the sight of the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He leaned on the wall next to the gates to his chambers. His head turned at the sound of your footsteps and he stood straight in front of the gates. You sighed as you stopped before him.
“What happened?” You inquired.
“I thought you would tell me. Your son is in the pit, practising with a new enthusiasm. I was wondering where he got it.”
“What do you think?” You exhaled and shook your head as you wondered if it was good or bad for Jaime to be fueled with such rage.
“Another exchange of words?” James asked.
“It went a little further this time,” you shifted towards the parapet, soaking in the slight breeze as you shared your worries with the knight, “it is unfortunate that they have the same temper and lack of patience.”
James hummed as he came to stand next to you. He placed his elbow on the stone and directed himself to face you. His gaze was heated as ever, but you had become immune to it with time.
“Perhaps, it will get better,” he said.
He tapped his fingers on the parapet and they lingered towards your hands. You looked up at him with questioning eyes.
“Is that all you came to say here?”
James tilted his head. “There could always be more,” he suggested.
You sighed. “I have to see Alyssa.”
You balled your fists in your skirts and began walking away from James.
“Afterwards then?” He asked.
You refused to answer. There was little room for personal indulgence amid the problems of the family.
***
The sound of Alyssa’s chortle emanated from the gazebo and echoed through the high bushes of the gardens. You were relieved to hear it. Despite the words you had said to Steve in your anger, you wanted your daughter to be protected and kept away from the darkness of your family. Jaime could not be saved from it, but she still had the light of a bubbly and hopeful girl in her.
You could hear his voice there too. As you came near the steps of the gazebo, you could see him as well.
The first emotion that Steve never failed to evoke in you was that of disgust. Yet, his interactions with Alyssa made you see differently.
He was immersed in a story that his daughter was narrating to him. She played out the characters by moving her wooden dolls on the table. He listened carefully and you watched them in awe. The fear that you had seen in Alyssa’s eyes at the solar had vanished. She was buzzing with excitement as she engaged Steve in her tale.
You were not required to console her after all. Nonetheless, you entered the gazebo.
Their eyes shot up to see you. Alyssa greeted you with a wide smile.
“Mother!” She chirped. “I will learn how to use swords! Father has agreed to it!”
“He has?” You turned to Steve.
“Yes, I could not refuse our stubborn princess’ demands,” he said and pinched Alyssa’s nose.
She giggled.
“And,” Steve looked at you, “my daughter will be a fierce princess, who will defend and protect herself.”
Steve held your gaze as he said the words you had not expected to hear from a man like him. Then he lowered his eyes. Your eyes glistened as you looked at him. If only you had been given such a chance to defend yourself. Yet, you admired his decision and his ability to make it. His love for his daughter brought out the man that was capable of being a good father in him and it truly surprised you.
“Yes! Like Lady Danvers. Like the princess, I was telling him about, mother!” Alyssa said as she moved the dolls on top of the table.
You blinked at your daughter and smiled. She was the only member of the family who was happy and you were thankful that at least she was.
“Come, join us!” She invited you.
You exhaled and sat down on the cushioned seat beside Alyssa.
“Tell us then,” you said pointing at her dolls.
“I will have to start from the beginning. Is that alright, father?”
“It is your story to tell, princess,” Steve replied.
They both smiled at each other before Alyssa burst into her tale of fight and glory. You listened to it all with patience, yet your thoughts lurked elsewhere. You wished that the joy in Alyssa would last forever.
A hand lurked to your side and sat upon your shoulder as you heard the tale. You flinched and looked to your right. Steve had stretched his arm across the wooden rail of the gazebo only to hold you, yet he did not raise his head to see or acknowledge you. He only nodded and expressed his interest in his daughter’s story.
You did not know what to make of it. Steve had slapped you mere moments ago, yet he wanted to be tender and gentle with you. Perhaps, it was for his daughter and you wished it so as well because it was only then that you could accept any form of softness from him. Assuming the same, you let his hand rest on your shoulder as you both keenly watched Alyssa spin the tale with the help of her dolls.
***
You sipped on the sweet and bitter wine as you leaned against the window in your chambers. The horses of Kingsguards galloped out of the gates, behind the ones of their King and their princess. Alyssa could have travelled on a carriage of her own, but she was bent on doing everything as the men did. Nevertheless, a small wheelhouse followed them. The prince, unfortunately, was absent, and you did not like seeing his lack of participation.
It was not a surprise that Jaime refused to go on the hunt with Steve, but Alyssa had gone and you had wished that it would have motivated your son to join them as well. There was much to still learn for your boy and his stubbornness and agitation did not work to his benefit always.
You sighed as you took another gulp. The doors to your chambers opened and entered a man. You glanced briefly over your shoulders to find James approaching.
“Jaime did not go then?” You inquired.
“No, I did my best to convince him but he was bent on his wish to not go,” James reported.
You hummed in disappointment.
“Lyssa insisted that she wants to go with Steve nonetheless and he had to take her.”
“That’s good,” you responded as the knight came close, “but I must talk to Jaime. He should be with them and learn the skills that boys and men like him do.”
“Yes, or soon little Lyssa would know more than Jaime himself and that wouldn’t help him,” James said.
“Ah, I wish he wasn’t so stubborn,” you exhaled.
James stopped behind you, watching the horses disappear into the distance over your shoulder.
“Boys of his age are angry and annoyed at everything. I would be lying if I said that Steve or I were not, but…he shouldn’t let that prevent him from becoming the man that he can be.”
You considered his words with a desire to believe them. Jaime was to sit on the throne someday and he could not do so with his volatile temperament unless he became more like his father.
“Oh, he worries me. How has he been in the pit?” You asked.
Jaime had been putting effort into his practice as of late, but you were yet to see him show remarkable improvement.
“A little better…,” James responded with hesitance, “but I did suggest that he try his hand at the bow. Not all men are skilled at the sword, some are with the arrow and bow, and men like me cannot even hold one of them.”
You arched your brows at the knight. You could only imagine your son’s reaction to such a proposition that doubted his abilities with the sword.
“I assume that he did not appreciate that suggestion,” you said.
“I did try to tell him about some of the great archers in our kingdom, Lord Clinton being one and he was at best decent with the sword too. And he is the prince, as long as he can handle the throne it should be good enough.”
“Your words do not help me much, James,” you hissed at him.
It had been difficult enough to worry for yourself long ago, but to worry for your son, to ascertain that he would be suitable for the throne and his rule would not be overthrown or questioned by others was most exhausting. You wished dearly that he would grow up to be a wiser and more skilled man who would command the people better than his father did and prove himself worthy to be the King of the South.
“Well, I can help you in other ways,” James said in a sultry voice as he roped his arm around your hips.
His sudden touch distracted you from your thoughts. He snatched the goblet of wine from your hand and gulped the remnants of it down in one go.
“James! If you want wine then you can pour yourself a goblet!” You scolded the older man.
“I don’t care for the wine,” he tossed the goblet on the floor and brought his wine-shaded mouth near yours. “I do for your lips.”
You slapped his shoulders and pushed his head away.
“You old dog! Steve has barely left the castle and here you are!”
James grunted and spun you around. You gasped as he pushed you against the wall and caged you with his body.
“Oh, I don’t need him to leave, I only need him to be oblivious while he is busy being a good father,” he said with a grin.
Giving you no chance to protest, James pressed his mouth on yours and devoured it with hunger. His hands slid up your sides and cupped themselves around your breasts. You moaned into his lips, melting at the warmth rousing in between your legs.
“You are disgusting, James,” you said between the pulls of the kiss.
“And you like it,” he replied.
You chuckled as James gathered you in his arms and took you to the bed.
“Oh James, once you were a good friend, loyal and dedicated now look at you,” you mocked him as he placed you on your back.
The knight had changed in many ways over the years past. Not only had his unbound devotion for Steve withered after he was stripped of his title as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, but he had also attained the confidence to defy and disrespect Steve by acting boldly on his desire for you. He feared him no more and neither did he care to be grateful for the mercy Steve had shown him by allowing him to remain as a knight in the castle. With his growing age, he was no longer a young man. Flicks of grey had begun emerging in his hair and beard, but he was just as attractive as he was when he was younger, at least to you.
You admired James as he dipped his knees on the bed and opened your thighs around his hips. He was like a small victory for you even if he was a secret. He helped you survive your marriage with Steve and gave you sanity in knowing that you would never entirely belong to your wicked and cruel half-brother.
“I still am. He should thank me for keeping you happy and satisfied,” James taunted.
You snickered and shook your head at how brazen he had become towards Steve. You enjoyed it. James smothered your neck with licks and bites of hunger while his hands pushed your skirts up to your waist. You matched his hurry in undoing the knots on his shirt and his breeches.
“I think he would see it differently,” you argued.
James tutted and hovered above you.
“Enough of him,” he bucked his hips into yours, rubbing his arousal on your slickening folds, “you must only think of me now. It has been too long.”
You hummed as you gave him a mocking glare.
“Then you must make me savour every moment of his absence, James,” you told him.
James grinned at you. “I will,” he said before lowering himself to capture your mouth in his.
You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to receive the pleasure that James gave. For as long as you surrendered your body to him, you could be at peace and away from the conflicts of your family.
Once Alyssa and Steve return and your family is together, you would be a concerned mother and a dutiful wife again, ready to attend to the joys and sorrows of the House Rogers.
Warnings: This story is darker than what is actually addressed in the summary. Additional tags will not be added to add shock value and suspense to the story; hence, I will ‘choose not to use archive warnings’. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with noncon content OR any form of violence. This fic is not for the light-hearted. I will refer any complaints about this story to the warning here.
Series Synopsis: You’re back in college to finish getting your master’s degree. On your second year to your degree, you enter a new class unaware that you’re sitting next to the Avenger, Captain America. Though shocked and bewildered, you and Steve Rogers spend the terms as close classmates and friends.
He asks you out, and the two of you start what initially hopes to be a loving relationship. Unfortunately, you suddenly become aware of Steve’s changing behavior, along with some other horrid secrets and realizations. You break it off with him, intent on getting out of a rabbit hole before you finally sink in.
So why did you have to find out now from today’s viral interview with Captain America that you two were getting married?
Run… Run now before he catches you. Your husband-to-be is waiting for his bride…
Chapter Summary: It's your first study session of the term... With Captain Rogers...
Chapter Length: 2,395 words
Author’s Note: Hello everyone! Thank you all for waiting on me! I've been able to rest and recharge my health with everything that's been going on, so hopefully, you will see more updates from me soon! In the meantime, please enjoy this chapter!
You kept checking the clock as you waited outside of the classroom just as Captain Rogers asked, and after pacing back and forth for the first few minutes, you contemplated taking a seat.
This might be longer than you thought it would be.
There were a couple of chairs and tables in the lounge area at the other end of the hall. It wasn’t too far… You could sit there and wait for the captain to finish his conversation. He said it would be a quick moment.
You nodded to yourself and decided to stay close to the door, leaning close against the wall. He popped out of the classroom in no time, and your heartbeat rose again.
Summary: The world as they know it is about to be thrown off of its axel and equilibriums will shift as our Alpha and Omega endure their first heat-induced rut. Something is about to be awoken.
Pairing: Darkish!Steve Rogers/Reader; Dark Tony Stark/Reader
Warnings: Dub-Con, AU, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha Tony Star, Angst, A/B/O Themes, Smut (Vaginal Penetration), Unconsensual Voyeurism, Mentions of previous Dub-Con, Questionable A/B/O Lore, Rut/Heat Sex, Pet Names (Little Wolf, My Omega, Master), Dom/Sub Dynamics, Swearing, Unprotected Sex, Mentions of magical practices.
Word Count: 4k+ words
Notes: This is the sixth edition to Hungry Like The Wolf Series. I would recommend reading the first parts, however, if you're just here for some filthy sex, welcome. Thank you to @caffiend-queen for being the kindest and most patient beta who tirelessly read over my hectic wolf a/b/o lore notes. I'm pretty stoked to be here at this point in the story with the eggs all lined up and ready for the fire to burn hot.
🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺
Part Six of Hungry Like The Wolf
The cabin is a hazy powder keg of whirling emotions and compounding scents; strong enough to nearly bring the tough Alpha to a stop as he steps over the threshold with the last load of groceries. It immediately fills his heart with an excitement and anxiety he hasn’t felt for the longest time.
Finally, by some miracle, you have come to this pinnacle and sacred moment in your relationship.
Summary: You have slowly worked your way through the writer’s ranks at the New York Times, finally securing your dream spot in the business section as an investigative journalist. However, turning down your boss’ advances lands you writing the article from hell: a PR-fix for the Avengers. Since the destruction of Thanos, the world has idolised the Avengers. They can do no wrong. You see through the facade and their ego. Forced to stay at the new facilities, you must live the Avenger’s lifestyle and document the life of an international superhero. You catch the eye of Steve Rogers, Captain America.
Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers/Reader
Warnings: Dark!Steve Rogers, non-con, slow burn, love bombing, coercive control, stalking, non-consensual voyeurism, obsessive Steve Rogers, psychological focus, emotional manipulation, creepy Steve Rogers, somnophilia. No under 18s.
Notes: This is a collaborative project with the beautiful @sophiria . Please heed the warnings and tags, these will be updated as the story progresses. If you wish to be tagged please let us know!🖤 Please feel free to comment and reblog! We’d love to hear your thoughts 🖤
Chapter Notes: It’s been over a year since this has been updated, I'm sorry. The love wasn't lost but things got a little overwhelming in the burrow. But we're back and Dark!Steve is on a mission. Thank you so much to @caffiend-queen for beta'ing like a mad boss.
I promise this isn't a filler chapter - it's setting up the groundwork for the endgame. Yes, we are in the endgame. Seven thousand years after we began this journey with this story, we are finally in the endgame.
If anyone is actually still reading this story, I don't blame you if you've given up on me, then I hope you enjoy.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
21. Thank You, Captain
Brave. Altruistic. Honest. Integrity. Selflessness. Inspirational. Decisive and quick to action in their convictions.
These are the qualities we expect of our heroes, but it wasn’t always so.
Before the year 2011, the world had not had a man truly worthy of being called a superhero since the Second World War, that is until SHIELD came upon a crash site in the frozen Arctic.
A hero was reborn that fateful day and the world finally had a dependable hero to call its own. One that a country in peril could rely on to save the day. Where a nation of children could look up to this brave individual for courage and be inspired to be better.
That man was Captain America: Steve Rogers.
This great United States is proud to call this national hero our own.
This is his story in his own words.
************
Discontent. No.
Blasé perhaps? No.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands fisted on his knees and back straight, Steve Rogers’ brows furrowed. He was ill at ease, fatigued as he waited for you patiently. Inside the bathroom, he could just make out the soft shuddering sigh as you languished under the hot water of the shower.
The heavy feeling in his stomach had made its home not long after that cold, dark morning in the cemetery. He shouldn’t feel this way, having finally gotten his way after months of battling to subdue you down into his perfect, acquiescent wife. Five blissful weeks without so much as a hair out of place, a foot out of step. Obediently writing his memoir and succumbing to his every desire under the sheets of your bed…
And yet, something didn’t sit right.
His attention was momentarily brought to the sound of the shower as he picked up the scent of your sweet body wash and soft tune as you dutifully prepared yourself for him.
Perhaps he missed the thrill of the chase. For weeks he had stalked you like prey, like the other women In his life and now he had no need for those games. You were his, wholly. The need had been satiated. Right?
Standing up, he slowly made his way into the expansive walk-in closet. His fingers caressing the soft texture of your silk dresses, he stalked around the shared space, breathing in the heady scent of the perfume he had bought you. Steve could not shake the juxtaposition of this room compared to the one he had broken into in the compound. Once woody and fresh like citrus, now sweet and floral. Fingers lingering over the lingerie drawer, he was overwhelmed with the memory of your stockings covered in his come as he sat on your bed…
Pulling the drawer open, he carefully considered the luxurious contents. Silk and lace panties tempt him, calling to him to touch them, smell them. Obliging their song, he breathed in the heady scent that was unapologetically you married with the clean scent of detergent. The material was soft against his tongue and skin as he savoured this moment.
Was it all too easy now? Had his dark flame been extinguished by the death of the challenge?
God, the high he would relish in following unsuspecting women back in the day… and yet that had not been enough. He had needed more then…
Yes, he needed more now.
The sound of the shower shutting off brought his attention from the dark clouds and back to reality. His reality. Yours…
Steve sat back down onto the bed you share, his fingers picking at the comforter as he listened to you fuss about in the bathroom drawers. Were you purposely delaying your grand entrance or were you being a good girl and making sure you looked especially pretty for your Captain?
He smirked at the memory of you kneeling between his knees that morning and batting your eyelashes at him as you sucked him off whilst he had read over his memoir. The one you were devotedly putting pen to paper for. An ovation of sorts for the man who had saved the world time and time again, sacrificing his life for the small, inferior masses.
Retirement was a funny beast, bringing out a myriad of emotions in the mercurial and attention-needy man. He deserved more than to wander the halls of the child-free house… Perhaps these feelings would dissipate once you were pregnant with his baby. And yet still you weren’t.
Why you hadn’t fallen pregnant to his ravenous appetite is beyond Steve. Wasn’t it his right, hadn’t he earned the privilege to call a child his own? After everything, he had risked his life for.
His jaw clicked as the wave of white noise ebbed and flowed, his focus steeled on the minute drop of blood on the cream carpet before him. It reminded him of the blood his mother desperately tried to hide from him as a child. The odour of vinegar hit him hard as he gripped his knees tightly. She had fought so hard to protect him, like a good mother. She would have done anything for her boy. Why couldn’t you…
“Captain?”
The wave was gone and he snapped his attention to his angel, you, standing in the warm light of the bathroom, wearing naught but the tiered pearl necklace and silky charcoal stockings he had surprised you with.
His cheeks burned hot as you swayed your hips towards him, your stained rouge lips calling to him. You are a vision, his vision, exactly how he had fantasised all those months ago in the compound. His perfect little doll. Standing before him, you dropped to your knees on the carpet, the red drop and stomach-churning smell was gone, and the dark flame reignited, albeit small.
“Did I do something wrong, Captain?” In the low light of the bedroom lamps, your eyes sparkled.
Fuck, he’d missed that. The fear. The respect. The adoration. He didn’t need an army, he just needed you.
“No, doll.” His smile was lazy as he gently cupped your face, “I’m just relieved to see you safe and unscathed. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you. Thank God I was able to get to you in time.”
The familiar pull in the corner of your lip wasn’t there, the one that told him you weren’t his. His heart expanded as you clasped your hand over his. “Thank you for saving my life,” you cooed, pressing your lips to his with a hunger he had desired for so long.
He smirked. The fight had finally gone, extinguished the morning he had fucked you on the frigid ground of the cemetery. The very night he closed the door tightly shut on your old world, keeping you tightly locked in his forever. Finally, Steve Rogers was victorious in this war to reclaim you.
You nestled against his naked chest, brushing up against his hardening cock. “I love you, Captain Rogers,” you purred, the sweet scent of your perfume invading his senses as his fingers cascaded over your clean skin. “How can I ever repay you for saving my life?”
Clutching your chin, he examined your reaction closely, waiting for the veil to fall and that fight to rear its ugly head. Nothing. Steve wasn’t sure if it was disappointment burning in the pit of his gut, or excitement, but the feeling was quickly forgotten as you slowly brought yourself up onto your feet and climbed up onto his lap.
He smirked, his hands moving to grasp your ass as he trailed his eyes over the tiers of pearls. “How would you like to carry the child of Captain America, doll?”
You were numb as you slowly rode Steve’s thick cock, feigning words of praise and admiration for the false superhero as the strands of pearls bounced against your chest. For weeks now you had slowly taken every ounce of hatred and resentment and buried it deep inside your gut, building walls of fake love and submission around your heart. He must be none-the-wiser to your grand plan to bring down the great Steve Rogers. Your very life depended on it.
As the tip of his cock brushed against that sweet tender spot, you thought back over what you had camouflaged within the bullshit memoir you were forced to compose for the egotistical man you now called husband. Deft hands pulled you from the encrypted words you planned in your head as you obediently fucked him, his lips littering your skin with hot kisses as he sat up.
“Please Captain,” you lied, poison dripping through your veins, “please put a baby in me.” You prayed that this was another unsuccessful attempt of his to further bind you into his world. It had been a miracle thus far that you hadn’t fallen pregnant to the supersoldier. Perhaps there was somebody on your side.
Your attention was brought back to the golden-haired man as he flipped you onto your back, pulling your leg up towards your chest and tugging you into a heated kiss.
“Come on my cock,” he demanded, exaggerating his hips as his fingers danced along your clit. “I command you to come.”
You dared not disappoint, clenching his length and giving in to the crushing waves of pleasure. There was no faking the effect the man had on your body, but your heart - you could never willingly hand that over. He would have to kill you first.
“Good girl.” The praise was like nails under your skin, drawing small strips of your waning fortitude. “You feel so good around my big, thick cock. It’s like you were made for me.”
You drew yourself back into the safe, black fortress as he crushed you with a cloud of approval. Like a broken record, it was a script of circular self-love, masked by his adoration for you. It had been hard to ignore the creeping cloud of something sinister coming over your captor over the past weeks.
Graduating from the sickening role of needy daddy to smug Captain had come with the same force as his dark appearance in the stealth suit. From carer to ruler, it had been a juggling act trying to cater to his ever mercurial sinful needs.
“Please, Captain,” you huskily mewled, drawing your fingers over the crest of his muscular back, widening your hips and emitting a breathy sigh for show, “please come inside me. Make me whole with your baby.” You lavished him with thanks and praise as he fucked you harder before spilling himself deep inside you, anchoring you within his stronghold. Grunting in your ear with hot air, he jutted his hips, drawing another orgasm from your wretched, apostate body.
As the night drew on, the pressure was unforgiving as he held you close to his chest, sharp eyes constantly searching you for the slightest swell of anger or hatred. You lost yourself in the rise and fall of his chest, your mind incessantly on work as you planned out the next chapter of your own memoir. The downfall and demise of Steve Rogers, America’s greatest anti-hero.
**********
Standing over the grave, I made a promise that day that I would never allow another man to lay his hands on a woman. I would do anything to protect my mother from the toxic traits of men. I would move heaven and earth to remove any ounce of my father from my soul.
And I upheld that promise, long after my mother was laid to rest.
For she taught me one essential lesson: women are to be cherished and treated with the utmost respect.
For years I held women at bay, protecting them from the dangers that my new serum-enhanced brought into the world. I never thought I would find love or be worthy of it, too afraid to open up and risk a broken heart after losing my beloved Peggy.
That was until I met her. My Angel. My saviour… She breathed new life into my world, and I hers.
Next Chapter: Coming Soon
🖤 Please feel free to comment or reblog. Tag list is open. 🖤
Warnings: darkfic, stalking, descriptive violence, gore, near-death experience, possible noncon/dubcon in the future (but I swear it's not as scary as it sounds)
Words: 1.6k
Summary: You could give up literally anything just to see this war-crazed psycho getting hurt, but, perhaps, he isn't crazy as you think, and you aren't the sort of person who enjoys others' pain.
P.S. Yes, I did include quotes from my favorite books/movies 😏
__________________
"Will you give me the pleasure of dancing with you?"
You nearly choke on your punch, immediately setting your glass down and turning back with a scowl on your face. There is no way you could forget the voice of your nemesis, this disaster of a human being who should have been banned not just from the magic academy but society as a whole. James goddamn Barnes is standing right behind you in his shiny uniform, thinking you would really dance with this monster in human skin. This day certainly couldn't get any better.
The audacity, you think to yourself, frowning at the sight of his carefully combed hair. Most of the time Barnes looked like he crawled out of a manhole.
"Sorry, not interested." You say, turning back to the table full of delicacies. You try your best to sound neutral despite your blood boiling: this is the last time you have to meet this son of a fish in person, and you don't want to waste your graduation day on bickering. Or murder.
But he doesn't make it any easier for you, frowning too, "Might I ask why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus repulsed?"
Oh, he is talking fancy. Pretending to be a gentleman. As if you haven't been watching him being a little more than a war-crazed lunatic for years who was obsessed with winning to the point he was banned from participating in any sword fighting tournaments.
Keep calm, you inhale, feeling your blood pressure rising rapidly. He doesn't deserve your energy.
"For once, a gentleman should not be speaking to a lady's back when asking to dance," you reprimand him, narrowing your eyes. "Moreover, he should, at the very least, offer her his hand. A lady would never consider gentleman to be serious if he cannot follow etiquette."
You are certainly not the one to be bothered by etiquette rules, but God do you want Barnes to go fuck himself. Of all most heartless, insufferable, undignified bastards, he is the worst. You have a hard time understanding how he dared to ask you out for a dance after what he had done to you, but this is James Barnes you are talking about. He has always had an emotinal hide of a rhinoceros.
"I apologize. It was my mistake."
You are dangerously close to breaking the glass you have just picked up.
Shut up. Shutupshutupshutupshutup.
"Will you dance with me if I do it right?"
As you set the glass back to the table, your whole body is trembling with anger so much you have no chance to hide it any longer. No, it was not enough for him to completely ruin your mood by just being in one room with you, he so desperately needs to make you vomit on the floor from his proximity to you. Your insides has already started churning, and you feel familiar pain in the gut as if Barnes just made a hole in you again.
Bastard. It was not enough to challenge a 15-year-old you on the arena during a yearly competition between faculties when you had just made your debut as the most successful mage practicing Bounded Fields, a sort of magic no one considered important unless used in defense. It was not enough Barnes was 2 years older than you, a genius swordsman no one in the academy could surpass, a literal monster who would stop at nothing to win, going around and challenging anyone he considered strong enough to face him. It was not enough the headmaster played in his favor, promising the Bounded Fields faculty an additional building for extracurricular activities - something every looser faculty dreamed of - if you agreed to sparr with Barnes, pressuring you, a literal child, into accepting the offer. Of course, you agreed, not knowing what it meant to fight against the berserker this genius student turned into the moment he stepped on the arena.
Was it not enough he made a hole in you when you were casting a spell that wouldn't even physically hurt him? When you planned to benumb him, he used his magic sword to stab you, a ray of blinding red light piercing through you body and destroying your heart, stomach, liver, pancreas, guts... He took your insides out because he wanted to win against a 15-year-old girl who dared to perform well in her first competition. If not your protection field - it failed miserably, but delayed your death, nonetheless - and the head of the faculty rushing over to preserve what was left of you, you would pretty much cease to exist. All because James Barnes considered you an interesting sparring partner.
Everything was a mess after that: while you were recovering in the hospital wing, the head of Bounded Fields faculty filed a complaint and got a restraining order prohibiting James Buchanan Barnes to participate in any competitions, tournaments, or any other sword-wielding activity except during exams. Half of the university was demanding the headmaster to expel him, but, considering how useful Barnes would be in the employ to the king, higher-ups left him be and paid your family handsomely to cover up the scandal.
He didn't even say he was sorry. In fact, despite everything going on and people turning their backs on him because of this incident, you ceased to exist for him because you were no longer a decent opponent he had thought you were.
Right. Of course. James just forgot who you are. That's why he came to you and asked for a dance. Because he did not remember you were that 15-year-old girl he stabbed in the stomach. Even if these two years after the incident all you did was spending your time studying, surpassing your classmates to the point you were graduating two years early, Barnes had nothing to do with you. He did not know he took all the joy of studying from you, leaving you broken, hurt, and wanting revenge so badly your head was occupied by nothing else. He has no idea everyone is still giving you these pitying looks like you are damaged goods, completely beyond repair.
He just... forgot.
"I will not dance with you even if you are the last man on earth," you spat in his face, furious, your shoulders shaking from all the magma rising inside your chest and ready to spill out on him.
This ridiculous man has the guts to be taken aback by your response, blinking at you, "Why?"
Oh, you so want to let him know. To pierce him through, to cut his limbs with a deadly bounded field you studied just in case you would ever have to face him again. To see his stupid head flying across the ballroom, blood gushing from the wounds and staining polished floors dark red.
Maybe then he would understand how it felt that day.
You are nearly convinced this is the right way, but you will surely cry if Barnes does not disappear from view in a minute, and you better let lamias to eat you alive than allow him see your tears.
"You better go ask someone from your fanclub. I'm sure the ladies would be thrilled."
"But I don't want to dance with any of them. I want to dance with you."
You send him a poisonous smile, "Your loss."
Before you have a chance to say something really nasty, your fists squeezed so hard it hurts, someone brushes past James, and you see Tony Stark, #2 in the list of people hating Barnes' guts till the day they die, "Excuse me."
You are surprised to see the guy nearly as much as James himself.
"Hey baby, do you wanna dance?" He offers you his hand so nonchalantly like he did it a thousand times before, and you accept it the very same moment.
Never in his life did Tony Stark called you pet names, but you understand perfectly well why he does now, and you agree to play along, "Sure! I was getting bored."
He takes you away before the psycho swordsman has a chance to say anything, and you don't think you have ever been that grateful to anyone. Tony is not your knight in shining armor, but his firm grasp steadies you, and you appreciate the warmth of his hands you feel through the fabric of the dress you hate. It makes you calm down, feel safe in his presence as he snatches you away from a man you despise so much everything inside you hurts. You are really, really grateful, you wish to say, but Tony interrupts you.
"The audacity of this bitch," he says, sercetly eyeing Barnes and swirling you around with ease. "He dared to choose you, of all people."
Tony is the second best swordsman in the whole swordsmanship faculty, and it makes him the forever sparring partner of Barnes. Stark has been humiliated time after time, not being able to win since the moment this monster enrolled in the academy, and you heard Tony once had to literally grow back a limb after a sparring because his partner got carried away. Even if you two could not be more different, your hate for James unites you more thank anyone can imagine, and you are very, very thankful for his support.
"Oh, you know why?" You crack a smile, venom lacing your tongue. "He forgot it has been me two year ago. I guess the sight of my guts falling out of my body was not captivating enought for him to remember."
Tony's face distorts in disgust. "What, for real? Fucking sicko."
You bit down on your lower lip not to cry as you look somewhere up, afraid tears will roll down your face in a minute. Tony's grip gets stronger on your waist.
"I hope he dies in a ditch," he whispers you into the ear, bringing you so close you feel the heat emanating from his body, and suddenly everything gets better, even if for a moment.
"Thank you," you whisper back, taking whatever comfort you can find in the embrace of a man you barely know.
Warnings: Incest, smut, dubcon, murder, threats, submission, humiliation, angst and misery. 18+ only. Minors DNI
Summary: This is a story set in a GoT-themed scenario, where the reader and Steve are half-siblings, and children of the Warden of Brooklyn (South). You both hate each other and try to compete with each other until one of you rises above the other.
A/n: The story is available on my Ao3, here’s the link.
Chapter 31
The crooked bark of the tree pinched your back as Steve drove you into it with each thrust. His hunger had no limit and he seemed to want you at every moment of the day and night ever since he had gotten a taste of you again on the night of Lily’s wedding. He had hurried you all to leave Missouri the very next day, wanting nothing to do with them and the wanton ladies after he had you in his grasp. It had been gratifying to have his affection bound to you with such devotion that the women, especially Maria, had not expected, but Steve’s desire for you had been exhausting.
The tiring roads back to Brooklyn did little to hinder his hunger. You could not protest him either, but only convince him with loving pleading words to give you some rest, that too could only be availed in his arms unless Jaime required your presence more.
Steve grunted in your neck as he ravished you without mercy. You clung to his shoulders and moaned above them as you stared at the man who was leaning on a distant tree and gawking at you from there.
The colour of his bruises had started to blend into his skin and the swelling of his jaw, lips and nose had reduced. His pain had not been once visible in his eyes throughout the journey and that left you wondering about what conjured in his thoughts. He was unreadable.
James’ gaze was relentless. You could not tell if he was angry, hurt or aroused, but he did not falter from meeting your eyes as Steve took you. You expected him to have many reservations against you after you had seduced him with lies and made him lose his title and respect from Steve’s hand. It was discomforting to have him watch you with such persistence, not knowing what was brewing in his mind.
"Must he…stand there?" You asked Steve.
"He should know who you belong to," he replied sternly.
"I think he does," you told him.
Steve sighed and pulled himself back to look at you.
"Do you?" He asked.
He stared at you with a keenness and an uncertainty of whether you would give him the correct answer. You knew what you had to say to him to ensure that his trust in you would remain unbroken.
"Yes," you panted.
He smiled in satisfaction. His thrusts became erratic as he produced a guttural grunt. He buried his head in your shoulder as he painted your walls with his seed. It was not a pleasant experience, but it marked the end of Steve’s usage of your body which brought relief in itself.
Steve kept you pinned to the tree as he slowly gathered his breath and pulled himself out of you. Your skirt fell to cover your legs as your feet touched the leafy floor. Yet, his hands remained on your hips. You smoothed out the wrinkles to make your appearance less shabby even though all of them were already aware of their King’s appetite.
“Another one will be in your belly before we reach Brooklyn,” Steve repeated what he had told you countless times ever since you had left Missouri.
His eagerness was unsettling. He had not displayed the patience of a good father in the past. Nevertheless, you could not contest his desires.
“Brooklyn is not far now,” you said.
Steve grinned and his gaze fell on your belly.
“Then he,” he put a finger on your stomach, “or she better be in there already.”
Your lips twitched into a nervous smile at his suggestion.
“I should rest in the wheelhouse for the rest of the journey then,” you said.
Steve took your hand in his as he led you out of the shade of the tree. Your legs were frail and had a dull ache between them after his assault as always. You wished dearly that he would not ask you to sit on the saddle with him.
“Certainly. I wouldn’t want my children’s mother to be troubled,” he said.
His ready agreement to let you be in the wheelhouse was surprising and it made you question his random bouts of sweetness. There was much that you would have to give him in return for his generosity as he had expected it for long from you.
You gave him a grateful smile and walked with him back to the riverbank where the horses were being watered and the men and women were resting under the canopy of trees from the fatigue of the travel. James followed behind quietly, only the crunch of the leaves beneath his boots was the mark of his presence.
Your handmaidens, Anya and Leila arose from the shade of a tree at your sight and headed for the wheelhouse. Elia was looking after Jaime inside of it.
Steve took you to the door and opened it for you. The handmaidens waited behind.
“You can have the night’s rest, in Brooklyn you will not be able to escape our bed so easily,” he teased and tickled your cheek.
You acted to be amused by his jesting.
“I will not attempt to,” you gave him a painfully pleasing reply.
“Good,” he said.
He bent down to press a kiss to your lips.
“Rest well.”
You nodded at him and he turned to find his horse. You sighed in relief and climbed into the wheelhouse.
Elia raised her head at your arrival. Jaime was fast asleep as she rocked him gently in her arms and you were thankful that he did not require to be fed. Leila and Anya entered the wheelhouse after you as you sat down on a maroon cushioned berth lined along the windowed wall of the wheelhouse. They eyed you with concern but did not say anything.
Leila brought a waterskin for you and you drank from it eagerly. The cool water was soothing to your throat.
“You will be able to return to the comfort of your bedchamber soon, your grace,” she said in a sweet attempt to console you.
“Not my bedchamber I’m afraid.”
The smile faded from her face and she lowered her eyes. She took the waterskin from you and turned to her seat, having nothing more to say to you about your predicament.
You exhaled as you laid down on the berth on your side, facing the window. You placed your head on the thin pillow and closed your eyes. Sleep wouldn't come to you easily after Steve had taken you and his spend leaked from between your legs. He did not like you wiping off his remnants and believed that it could prevent his seed from quickening in your womb. You had to oblige with his whims.
You clenched your teeth and shrunk your body into the bedding as you hoped that his obsession with you would fade with time.
***
Steve opened the door to the wheelhouse and helped you down from it. The horses, carts, servants and the Kingsguard filled the courtyard of the castle, making it bustle with their commotion.
The heat of the noon sun stung your eyes as you put your feet on the ground. You put a hand over your head for shade and walked readily with Steve to reach the comforting coolness of your chambers. His grip on your hand was tight as he led you from the yard to the entrance of the castle.
“We need baths and rest,” Steve said.
You sighed as you realised that you couldn't even take baths by yourself. It was a bothersome proposition but not one that could be avoided.
“Yes…I should tell them to fill water in the pools. It has been long since I— we bathed in it,” you said.
Steve released a breathy hum.
“That won’t be necessary," he said and you raised a brow at his unexpected answer. "I have to attend to my Kingly duties with Lord Wilson before I tend to myself…you should have a bath by yourself in your chambers. Then you can return to me in mine with a sweet scent on your skin and a new clean gown that I can tear off."
You halted before the castle’s opening and looked up at Steve in confusion. His proposition was unlikely as you had prepared yourself to be assaulted by him as soon as you reached Brooklyn. To see him choose his duties over his lust seemed unnatural. He stopped as he noticed that you were not following him.
"Are you—are you certain?" You asked him, wondering if he wanted to see you coax him to come with you.
“Yes,” Steve turned to you, “and do not worry for Jaime either. I have told them to ready the chambers that once belonged to me for him and he will be in the care of a nursemaid and servants.”
“Oh.” An uneasiness grappled your veins and made them jitter as you saw the newly appointed servants pluck Jaime from Elia’s hands and take him with them to the castle.
Your feet shifted on their own will but Steve’s grip on your hand held you to your place. You balled your fists and bit your lips as you urged yourself to settle down.
“You seem disappointed,” Steve said as he took a step closer to you.
It was the norm for the children of noble houses to be tended to by the servants, nurses and septas chosen by the Lord of the house, but you found it difficult to trust anyone whose loyalties were promised more to Steve than to you.
Steve cupped your cheek in his hand and raised your head to meet your gaze. He rubbed his thumb over your skin as you attempted to withdraw the dismay on your face.
“I admire your motherly urge to protect him, but you need not worry for him. He is my son. Not a hair on his head can be harmed under my watch,” Steve promised, holding your hand over his heart.
In your heart, you knew that you could not question his place as Jaime’s father and continue to deem him as a threat. Your fears would become maddening if you let them conquer you. It was Steve to whom you had submitted yourself and it was his word that you had to follow and put your faith in.
Through your restlessness, you produced a faint and trusting smile for Steve. There was nothing else to do
“I will come for you soon,” you said.
“I will be waiting for you, my sweet.”
Steve bunched your hands in his palms and kissed the knuckles. His irregular show of affection was not something you had become accustomed to yet, you accepted them with a show of delight and went on your way as he did his.
Though you had not expected him to do so, you were thankful to be given the opportunity to bathe without him. You needed to remove his touch from your skin as futile as it might be. The few moments of his absence would be enough for your peace.
Your handmaidens that had been in the castle and the ones that had come with you, worked together to arrange the bath for you in your bedchamber. Elia took out a shift of the thin cotton-made green gown from your chest and placed them on the bed for you before coming to help you with the one that you were wearing.
She opened the knotted laces of your gown as you stood and watched the handmaidens do their work. Anya along with another handmaiden placed a wooden tub in front of the bed and filled it with water while another girl put the bath oils and soap beside it. You narrowed your eyes as you noted that one of your handmaidens was missing.
"Where is Leila?" You asked.
The handmaidens exchanged glances with each other and then examined the chamber. They were as perplexed as you and worried too.
"Perhaps…,” Anya stood up, “she went to use the privy?"
"And she told no one about it?"
“Perhaps, her stomach was not well,” Elia pondered from behind you.
The loosened gown slipped from your shoulders and you held it to your chest to keep it from falling.
“That is strange,” you said.
You wished to scold Leila for parting from you without a word but you hoped that she wasn’t ill and wouldn’t wander around the castle.
The handmaidens waited in silence for your next command.
“Well, it has been a tiring journey. You should go find Leila and take her to attend to the prince in his chambers then rest…I would like to be alone,” you told them.
“Yes, your grace,” they all said in unison and departed from the chambers together.
You let the gown and the shift fall to the ground and left them there as you went to dip your legs into the tub. The warm water of the bath was soothing to your aching muscles despite the tinge of the heat outside. You poured the lavender oil into the bath and lathered your body and hair with it to clean out the sweat and grime that had stuck to your skin through the endless days of travel from Missouri to Brooklyn.
You cleaned yourself between your legs despite knowing well that Steve would only soil you again as he had promised you that he will. His touch would forever be irremovable from your body and your soul. You scrubbed yourself thoroughly with as much energy as the journey had left you with.
Though you had wanted to lay your head at the end of the tub and rest for long in the water, your gurgling stomach urged you to get up. It had been several days since you had had a proper meal fit for a Queen and you needed to nourish yourself with some food. Then there was Steve whose needs you would have to attend to before being given the opportunity to visit Jaime in his new chambers.
The water flowed down your body through rivulets on your flesh and splashed loudly on the tub and the floor as you stepped out onto the stone. You went to the bed and dried yourself with the towel kept on it. Your heart sank as you were struck with the realisation that you would not be able to find reprieve there anymore.
You sighed to yourself in defeat. This was the path you had chosen for yourself and there was no escape from it. You placed the towel back on the bed after squeezing the water out of your hair. You wore your shift and put your legs in the opening of the gown as you batted away the dark thoughts.
Tying the laces on your back was a trying task to do by yourself. You folded your arms behind yourself and tinkered around the strings with your fingers to find the right pairs. The bottom ones were easier to do than those at the top.
The door to your bedchamber squeaked open as you struggled to close the gown over your back.
“Can I be of help?” A man asked.
Startled by the masculine voice, you bolted around to see who the intruder was.
James stood in front of the closed door with a grim expression on his face as his inquisitive eyes studied you.
“What are you doing here?” You asked as you held the half-done gown to your torso.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he teased as he stalked forward.
His jibing was irksome, yet his unwelcome presence in your chambers was more unnerving. You had given him plenty of reasons to not be gentle with you, the yellowing bruises on his face were the evidence of that and after he had lost his title, you worried that he could have been thrown off-kilter.
Despite your apprehensions, you held your head high and met his challenging gaze.
“I’m not— afraid. I’m just curious… I did not think that he would let you come anywhere near me after…well, the wedding,” you replied.
James chuckled. “Oh, he did not…”
You were cautious of his treading steps as he circled around the tub to come near the bed. He stopped only a few inches short from where you stood and you directed your squinted gaze to your right.
“...but I know my way around the castle. I always have,” he said with a shrug.
“I see…and why have the ways led you to my chambers?”
James' lips stretched into a mischievous smile as he measured your form with calmness and laxity that he had never expressed before. He was always tensed by the burden of his duties and devotion to Steve, and you did not wish to know if he had become a different man without their weight on his shoulders.
“Do not fear me, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he cooed.
You watched him with uncertainty. Your feet were ready to spring into a sprint and your lungs were prepared to scream if need be. But there was no telling if you would be saved on time.
James, however, did not do anything that could be perceived as dangerous. He wiped the smirk off his face and pursed his lips as he exhaled.
“I simply wanted to ask…did you intend for this to happen from the very beginning?” James pointed his hands at his absent armour and cloak.
You shifted on your feet to face him as you regarded him with scepticism. It was not surprising to know that he believed that you had used him as a pawn in your ploy and though you had convinced Steve of the same, you wondered if James would be more at peace with another truth.
“If you must know, I did not,” you answered.
James furrowed his brows at you.
“I very much did not intend or expect any of this to happen. To speak truthfully, I had expected to suffer the consequences of my actions as well…and yet here we are…”
“And you must be so happy, yes?” He sneered.
You clicked your tongue and shrugged. “I’m happy that my worst fears have not become true.”
James shook his head and clenched his teeth. You could see the poison brewing in his eyes.
“But you must be so satisfied! Laughing at us now that you’ve secured your position as the Queen again. You had him toss away every lady and return to you, fluttering around you like a mad man in love. All while having him punish me, remove me from my title, and destroy our friendship. Oh, what a victory for you isn’t it?” James ranted, the resentment was apparent in his voice.
“Do not bicker, James,” you rebuked as you found the will to contend his irrelevant accusations. “I fail to see how this is a punishment…Kings would have beheaded you for less, I would have…but he chose to spare your life and bring you back with himself instead of killing you, much like me.”
The heat in his eyes diminished as you charged toward him with contempt in yours.
“Not even an exile for you, James. I would thank the Gods every day if I were you.”
“For what?” He grunted through his teeth.
“For Steve. It seems his affection for you cannot be truly broken either, can it?” You said with a slight grin.
James tilted his head at you and narrowed his eyes. His jaw ticked but he did not say anything to you.
“I would suggest that you make the most of it,” you told him.
With a last glance, you turned your back to him and started for the other end of the chamber.
“Now you can go,” you waved him off with your hand.
James grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Your heart jolted in alarm and a gasp escaped your lips as your body moved on his will.
Your breath became uneven as you feared being assaulted by his need for revenge. But instead of hurting you with his hands, he stilled you in front of him and began tying up the rest of the laces on the back of your gown much to your surprise.
“He was right to call you a witch,” James said.
The playfulness in his voice and his unpredictably helpful behaviour were most astonishing to you. Your heart was at ease as you saw that he did not seem to pose an immediate threat to you, but you were left puzzled about his true intentions. You could only assume that James had returned to his previous calm and wise demeanour and did not wish to do anything that could provoke Steve’s wrath. Making you believe that he was harmless would only work to his benefit.
You hummed in agreement and snatched yourself from his hold before turning towards him.
"Perhaps…I’m thankful for your help, James. I must return to my husband before he becomes suspicious and you suffer the brunt of it once again,” you taunted.
James smirked at your words instead of being angered by them. He stepped back and stretched his arm towards the door. You eyed him warily as you exited the chamber. He remained in his position and did not bother you further.
You released a breath of relief as you walked across the mostly empty halls. Your interaction with James had not been entirely unpleasant but you did not wish to be ever cornered by him again. It was for his own sake as well as Steve would not show him his mercy again and you did not want to be in the middle of their conflict.
You folded your hands together as you went through the hallways. You ached for some sleep in a cosy bed even if you had to share it with Steve. You hoped that he would be engaged with Lord Wilson in his study for long enough that he would not be able to catch you awake. And if he would pull you from your slumber, it would be because the food had been prepared for you to eat with him.
But your hopes were crushed when you found the Kingsguard standing in their positions on the sides of the master bedchamber’s entrance. Their Lord Commander was yet to be chosen, but their presence indicated that Steve was already waiting for you.
The sound of whimpers came through the doors of the chamber and reached your ears as you neared them. Muffled cries came through the wood as you halted before it. Your heart began pounding in anticipation of something bad. You had no knowledge or clue of why there could be a crying woman in Steve’s bedchamber and it made bile rise in your throat.
Your breath wavered as you looked at the Kingsguard for answers. The knights did not spare you a glance nor did they prevent you from entering the chamber. With a racing heart and trembling hands, you opened the doors and stepped inside.
“Ah! You are here at last!” Steve exclaimed with a clap of his hands.
Your eyes widened in horror at him. He had the most vicious smirk on his face as he stood in the middle of the chamber and spun a sharp knife in his hand. Beside him was the crying woman.
“Leila?” You asked.
Your fears worsened at the sight of her and your heart sank in your chest. She stood shrivelled, shivering and frightened before Steve and her face glistened with the many tears that she had shed.
“Steve, what— what are you doing? I do not understand the meaning of this.”
“You will. I was just…asking Leila some questions and I was waiting for her answers. Perhaps, you would like to hear them too,” Steve answered.
He spoke in a wicked tone that had Leila shuddering. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you saw the tears pouring from her eyes.
“I don’t—”
“You see, I’m not a fool, sister,” Steve interjected in a sharp and angry voice, “and I have had my suspicions regarding your wanton handmaiden for long.”
Your throat tightened at the hidden accusation of his words. You had been careful about your conversations with Leila and you thought that all of it was in the past after you had reached a peaceful agreement with Steve. He had become so sweet and affectionate with you and yet he appeared like a monster once again.
“So, Leila,” he slapped a hand on her shoulder, “you only have to answer one question for me, but you have to answer it truthfully.”
Leila flinched and shrieked, folding her trembling arms around herself for comfort. You could not watch the fear that Steve had struck in her heart. She appeared entirely helpless and frightened, and you were to blame for it.
“Did you ever conspire to kill me with your Queen?” He asked.
“Steve!” You interrupted as if he had said something utterly ridiculous.
“No!” Steve yelled and pointed his palm at you.
His eyes were cold and piercing as they landed on you. They sent shivers down your spine as you cowered in your place.
“You are not allowed to speak here,” he snarled.
“Leila, give me the answer or I will be provoked to beat the truth out of you.”
“Your grace, I beg of you!” Leila called you with pleading eyes.
“No, do not look at her. She cannot do anything…but you can,” Steve grabbed her jaw with his fingers, pinching her cheeks with them as he forced her to look at him, “and I might just spare your life if you are willing to be truthful with me.”
“My Queen, please help me,” the poor girl whimpered.
Your eyes watered at her plight and the danger that Steve had put you both in. You had already given him your submission, you did not know what else he wanted. The fear of having surrendered yourself to him only to be murdered in Brooklyn made it difficult for you to breathe.
“Steve, listen to me!” You begged but he paid no heed to you.
“Leila, Leila, you whore…she cannot do anything for you. I would save my back first if I were you.”
Steve put the blade against her cheek and you could see him relishing her pain and fear as she wailed in his hold.
“She is my Queen and my sister…she has enough of my favour to have me pardon her, but you…you’re just a whore and I can kill you without a second thought.”
His threat had you both trembling, but only you had some power to convince Steve to put an end to his villainy.
“Steve, please! There is no need for this! She’s only a handmaiden. Let her go and we can just return to our bed.”
“Shut your mouth!” Steve barked at you.
He seethed and glared at you with an anger that he had kept hidden from you throughout the journey. You sobbed and covered your mouth with your hand as panic engulfed your heart. Perhaps, his show of affection had been false and he had only laid a trap for you to fall in so that he could kill you once you had accepted the place that he had always wanted you to. If that was true then you were doomed and all your hopes of a better future, of being Jaime’s mother through his growing years would be laid to waste and you did not want that at any cost.
“I shall ask you again,” Steve regarded Leila, “did you conspire with my sister to kill me, your King?”
The handmaiden closed her eyes and her lips quivered as she accepted that there was no help that you could offer to her. While you wanted her to save herself, you did not wish for Steve to gain knowledge about your talks. As futile as they had been, they would give reason to Steve for punishing you.
“We only—talked about it…sometimes. We never conspired,” she squeaked.
“And what did you talk about?”
“She would sometimes ask me to spy on you and—and think of ways to— to kill you if I can…”
“Interesting…,” Steve wondered.
He raised a questioning brow at you as Leila’s confessions tarnished the visage of meek submissiveness that you had painted for yourself before Steve. The coldness of his stare was chilling as you struggled to find any hint of the warm, forgiving affection that he had fooled you with before.
“Steve, that was—that was nothing! I promise!” He watched you with amusement as you scrambled to justify yourself. “I was just angry and I would never do it. I never gave her the order!”
Steve released Leila from his grip and retrieved the blade from her cheek as he listened to you.
“But you conspired nevertheless,” he said.
“Steve, there was no conspiracy, I swear on the Gods! I could never do such a thing –and–and I would never even dream of it. You have to listen to me Steve, I beg of you!”
He hummed and turned his back to you, circling around the terrified handmaiden as you watched her helplessly.
“Please, your grace. I beg you for your forgiveness,” she pleaded with Steve.
“Hmm,” Steve placed a hand on her shoulder as stopped to stand behind her, “you have been truthful to me, Leila, but you have made some treasonous confessions. Tell me, sister, what should I do with this whore?”
He hung his arm from her other shoulder and dangled the knife over her throat while waiting for your answer. You could see that he was only playing a sadistic game with you and that her life would depend solely on his mercy. But you had to do what you could to have him spare her life. She had been nothing but helpful to you both by distracting Steve and taking care of Jaime. She had only wished for a better life just as you had.
“Let her go, Steve. She is just a harmless handmaiden. I will—”
Your words turned into a shriek as Steve looked you dead in the eye and sliced Leila’s throat open with the knife. Blood sprayed on the floor as she struggled to close the flow with her hands. You gasped and fell to your knees, putting your hands on your eyes as the scene shook you to your core.
“No no no no,” you mumbled.
Your stomach churned up as the little content in your food threatened to rise up to your mouth. You cried into your hands while Leila bled out on the floor of the bedchamber. You could not bear to see her lifeless body as her death was on your hands.
You were disgusted in yourself and you were disgusted at Steve. But you were afraid of him as well, more than you had ever been before. He stepped over her body and loomed over your shivering self as the fear of death swallowed you whole.
You did not even know if there was anything left for you to do to convince him and to get him to forgive you. He already had your loyalty and devotion, but it couldn’t be enough for him to forget that you had wanted your handmaiden to murder him.
Steve sighed as he looked at you from above. He dropped the blade beside you and knelt on the ground before you.
He removed your hands from your face and forced you to look at him, perhaps to savour the dread that he had put in your heart and soul.
“Steve, please,” you cried.
To your utter surprise, Steve gathered you in his arms and hugged you to his chest.
“Shush, sister. It’s over,” Steve cooed to you and rubbed your back.
You were left dumbfounded at the sudden show of comfort by him. You wondered if it was a trick or not as you did not believe that he could simply grant you his forgiveness without any cruel punishment.
“Everything is fine,” he went on as he rested his chin on your head and patted your back to soothe you, “consider this as a new beginning for us, now that we have gotten rid of all pests that had come in our way and poisoned our marriage.”
You snivelled against his chest and dug your nails into his tunic.
“Hush now, you do not have to be afraid,” he said.
His words lifted a heavy burden from your chest. You buried your face in his torso and clung to him for dear life. His arms became a place for reprieve and solace and you feared that they would be taken away if you left them.
“However, you must promise to me that nothing of this sort would take place again in the future for I will not be as merciful and ignorant the next time. Do you understand, sister?”
You could only whimper in response. On one hand, you continued to stir in the trepidation of the underlying threat of his seemingly forgiving offer. But on the other, you wanted to see the hope and mercy that he was showing you. He was willing to disregard his confirmed suspicions in favour of having you beside himself and that was the greatest gift that you could get out of such a harrowing situation.
“Stop crying and answer me!” He yelled and you flinched in his arms.
You quickly put your chin on his chest and looked up at him.
“Ye–yes, yes, Steve…I promise— I’ll never do it again,” you blurted in a hurry.
Steve hummed. “Good.”
He plucked you off his chest and cradled your face in his hands. His gaze was not as cold anymore but you still had to search for the sweet reverence that he once had for you in his eyes. You had felt safe in it and you wanted to once again.
“I hope that you will keep your word, for your own sake…” he warned.
You shuddered, knowing that Steve would be watchful of your every step in the future and there could be no scope of mistakes.
“Yes…yes, I will,” you uttered in a whisper.
Steve nodded and wiped your tears with his knuckles. He held your head and leaned in to place a gentle peck on your fluttering lips. You leaned into the warmth of his mouth and he allowed you to.
He broke the kiss and embraced you in his arms once more as you continued to sob. You wrapped yourself around him, wanting him to alleviate the ache in your chest and ease the rush in your veins.
“Don’t cry. All will be well from now,” he promised.
You wanted to believe him. Leila’s dying face haunted you when you closed your eyes.
Yet, you wanted to believe him. All would be well. You were forgiven. You were not dead.
You return to your hometown after dropping out of university. If the shame of it wasn’t bad enough, you are forced to comfront old mistakes and a persistent stalker.
Fandoms: MCU, Captain America
Genre: Mostly suspense, some drama, horror and smut.
Ships: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Chapter Warnings: Kidnapping, blood, gore, threats of violence, body horror, minor character death
Series Warnings: Smut, dubcon, sweat, violence, gore, body horror, minor character death.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
You ran out of sympathy for Steve and his injuries real fast. TJ’s friends had been declared as missing, disappearing without trace or warning. No reply to your brother’s texts, no messages to their own families, nothing.
Just like David.
Milton hadn’t turned up either. His neighbors saw him leaving the house in the morning, and they never saw him returning that night. Calls and messages went unanswered, his car had remained in the parking lot, and nothing in the house gave any signs that he had gone on an impromptu trip.
It was bad enough for your town that four people had gone missing in two days, you didn’t need your father to be the fifth.
You and your mother had begged him – don’t go with Steve, he can find someone else – and he seemed like he would listen to you, until he was offered double his usual rate.
Maybe your father would’ve respected your wishes, but your family needed the money, and he wasn’t scared of anything. He had left on Steve’s car hours ago, and you hadn’t heard of him since.
You sat in the kitchen all afternoon, waiting for him, as did your mother. She didn’t talk to you, didn’t even look at you, her eyes never straying from the ticking clock. You rolled your cellphone in between your hands. Your father hadn’t picked up any of your calls since he left.
It was dark out when the house phone rang. Both you and your mother ran to it, but you were faster. You pulled on the handset, and in your hurry almost ripped the entire thing off the wall. Your mother must’ve thought you had done so if her gasp was anything to go by.
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader, Dark!Steve x Other Characters
Warnings: Incest, smut, dubcon, submission, humiliation, angst and misery. 18+ only. Minors DNI
Summary: This is a story set in a GoT-themed scenario, where the reader and Steve are half-siblings, and children of the Warden of Brooklyn (South). You both hate each other and try to compete with each other until one of you rises above the other.
A/n: Prepare yourselves for hating Steve. The story is available on my Ao3, here’s the link. This chapter is around 3.8k long and somewhat small because I decided to divide the content into another chapter. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless and let me know what you think! Thank you!
Chapter 30
Tears dried on your cheek as you sat quietly on the stone floor, leaning against the bed in the middle of the chamber that belonged to a person unknown to you. The Kingsguard waited outside the doors. They had refused to allow you to meet your son despite your pleas.
Your heart was heavy with an immense ache as you imagined that you might not be able to look upon his face for the last time if Steve decided to deliver your fate to you quickly. He would never grow up to know that you were his mother and not any vile woman that Steve would decide to marry after he threw you away.
The exhilaration of taunting Steve had ended. You had done your part of lighting up the flame for him and hoped that he would burn in it forever and that for the entirety of his reign, he would be reminded of the Queen that tossed away his affection in favour of another, but that thought was no more satisfying enough. It never would have.
Steve would lose so little in comparison to you and his anger against James was most concerning as well. Only he could be trusted to keep Jaime safe in your absence. The knight might have his motives and goals to achieve, but you had seen that he was dedicated to protecting your son.
You sniffled and rested your head against the footboard while meekly anticipating Steve’s arrival and the subsequent announcement of your punishments.
The wood of the door to the bedchamber creaked and your heart raced as you sensed him coming. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his silhouette and a hint of his golden hair, but you did not turn your head to acknowledge his presence.
His entry was surprisingly calm as you had expected him to come in raging with a sword to impale you upon or with his belt hanging by his hand to beat you with till you were left in pain and blood. But he said not a word to you.
“Steve, I must tell you,” You decided to speak first, “that the only way I would allow you to separate me from my son is by killing me. I hope that you are prepared to do it.”
You heard nothing but heavy laboured breaths in response. The lack of a cruel taunt or reply on his part was perplexing. With furrowed brows, you turned your head to him to see if it was Steve who stood in the bedchamber.
It was Steve indeed but he appeared dishevelled. His face glistened with a sheen of sweat and his hair was unkempt. His tunic was wrinkled and his hands hung beside him. His eyes were red and set on you but they did not seem to hold even half of the rage that you had expected them to. The hair on the back of your neck pricked up as you saw the purple bruises on his knuckles and the splotches of blood on them.
“What did you do to him?” You asked.
Steve clenched his jaw and balled his fists. “You’re concerned for him. When did this all come to be?” He hissed.
“What?”
His nostrils flared as he exhaled and took a step forward.
“Do you—,” his voice wavered, “do you love him?”
His question was amusing, but also unexpected. You sat paused as you regarded the restlessness on his face. The strain in his voice told of how pained he was by the mere thought of you being in love with James and though it was not your intention to convince Steve of it, you had expected him to understand your play, you were entertained by the possibility of having caused him a deeper ache.
“Love? Him?” You asked as you lifted yourself to your feet. “The person who almost peeled the skin off my back at your command. Do I love him? What do you think, Steve?”
“Then why would you do that? In front of everyone?”
“I merely took inspiration from you and thought to myself, why must I repress my desires? For you the ladies do, but for me, only James could have quelled the fire,” you retaliated.
“Those ladies are whores! James is our Lord Commander and my friend!”
“And so, what?” You snarled at him. “I do not understand the meaning of your outrage. Were you not ready to toss me away for those women? Then why must I worry about who I choose to replace you with?”
“I could never do that!” Steve yelled at you.
You flinched at the sudden sharpness of his tone.
“You’re a curse upon me of which I cannot get rid of!” He bellowed.
The pulsing vein in his temple and his reddening face along with his ragged breath were almost worrisome for you. He spoke with such desperation and rage that you thought that he could burst into flames where he stood. And yet, what he said had baffled you.
“I do not—”
“I would have stopped if only you would have asked me to…”
You folded your hands in front of your hips and ground your teeth together. It was most aggravating to have Steve accuse you of inaction when he had so humiliatingly denied your proposal of submission. He had your blood boiling again.
“I did and you refused, Steve, if you remember. Do not blame for it,” you told him through gritted teeth.
Steve stared at you in disbelief.
“You did not ask. You merely ordered and–and– acted as if it was a burden on your chest to even take back your husband,” he argued
“I was not going to beg, Steve! Not after you said what you had about Jaime!”
“You push me to my very worst,” Steve justified.
You shook your head at him.
“And? You do not get to threaten me and my motherhood and expect no repercussions, Steve. You cannot do that!” You roared in rage.
Steve fell silent and lowered his head. His fingers trembled at his sides and you noticed the lack of a sword on his belt.
“I thought—I thought that if I did then you would see reason, that you would change your ways and return to me….and have me return to you.”
You were taken aback by the sudden softness in his voice. He could not even meet your eyes. Steve had never rendered himself so vulnerable to you.
“But…you just—you and James,” his words began to slur as he mumbled incoherent words.
He put a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“...I don’t know.”
You were left startled as you saw a sense of defeat in Steve and a yearning that was not entirely corrupted by his deviancies. A hint of affection for you that you had never thought that a man as cruel as him could have. It was overwhelming to know that and to see that as it had been the cause of your destruction. But in its light, you wondered if it could be used and manipulated just a little for you to ascertain an outcome for yourself where you would not be separated from your child and neither from your crown.
Your throat tightened and ached as you said, “I want peace as well, Steve…I do. I don’t want those wicked women anywhere near my son.”
“I could never let those whores take your place, but you never understood that. You never valued what I have given you.”
You chewed your lip. You did not know if he was laying a masterful trap for you to fall in so he could have the last laugh before executing you or if he was speaking the truth. With reluctance, you mustered the strength to bring yourself to ask the testing question. You had already put yourself in danger, there was little left to risk losing.
“And if I do now?” Your heart raced as you feared that he would erupt into laughter and mockingly refuse your offer.
“What?” He asked, raising his head to look at you with his mouth agape.
“Value it, what you have given me?”
Steve stared at you blankly. He had no reply and he appeared uncertain. You waited for him to break the yielding facade, but he never did. Instead, his eyes lingered softly on your face as they awaited what you had to say.
You took in a deep breath as a slight rush of courage filled your nerves.
“Would you allow me to put an end to this and bring peace to us?” You asked as you went forward and ended the distance between you two. “For the sake of the crown and for the sake of our son?”
“But you–”
You reached for his hand and held it gently in your palm, bringing it to your chest as you gazed into his eyes. His breaths overtook his words and you were amused by how relenting he was to your touch.
“I’m not only your Queen, Steve. I’m also your sister, half of your blood and the mother of your child…I understand now that we must stay together in alliance and strengthen this kingdom if you allow me to, if it is not too late for you to…accept my devotion.”
“But James–”
You put your free hand on his cheek and stroked the skin with your thumb. He seemed to melt at your small displays of warmth and submission and you were elated to see that you could salvage something from your predicament.
“James is just a shadow," you cut in and Steve decided to hear you instead of speaking any further.
"To you, he is a friend, but to me, he is just a pawn and pawns are sacrificed to reach the King.”
Steve closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth of your palm. He shifted his head and grazed your skin tenderly with his lips.
Your chest heaved as you witnessed and comprehended the most unlikely behaviour on Steve’s part.
He turned his face to you and opened his eyes. He sighed.
“How can I trust you?”
You exhaled. The tension eased on your chest, but your stomach was twisting in anticipation of what you had to do to convince him that your submission was not false even if in your heart it was. Any further show of rebellion would have you cast into a darkness from which you would never be able to escape.
You pulled your hand from his body and took a step back.
“I will have to show you, yes? I will have to earn your trust.”
Steve watched you in a daze as you lowered yourself to your knees. You did your best to not let your hesitation show in your movements.
“I’ll have to start with small steps," you said as you put your fingers on his breeches and looked up at him.
You began pulling the knots to free him from his garment.
“I’m certain that those ladies could never please you as I did," you said teasingly and licked your lips to show him your enthusiasm.
Though your spine tingled and your mind was not at ease with your actions, you forced yourself to accept that this was the best chance that you could give yourself to be safe with Jaime. There were no further ways to humiliate Steve and no opportunities to achieve any sort of victory over him. Nothing except for giving your body and soul to him.
Steve tilted his head at you and put his hand on your shoulders. He pulled you up to your feet before you could even take him in your palm. You frowned and your heart sank.
Was there no way left for you?
His fingers dug into your flesh as he pressed you to himself and brought his face near yours.
"Kiss me," he said.
You blinked at him, confused that he would ask you do to something less demeaning and subjugating than pleasuring him with your mouth. But you did not protest and lurched at him with your mouth. You put your hands on his cheeks and drew him in for a kiss.
You did not have to do much else as Steve overpowered you easily with his searching tongue. His groping hands roamed all over your body.
He grabbed your thighs and flung moment them over his hips as he devoured your mouth, not giving you even a second to breathe. You locked your hands behind his neck to keep yourself from falling as he took you to the bed.
Steve dropped you on it and followed your lips as your head fell back. He let up only to put his mouth on your neck and nip at the skin that he had been kept away from.
His hands tussled between you two as he unbuttoned his tunic with urgency. You fought with him to take charge and to rid him of his clothes yourself, you had to give him proof, but he took your hands by the wrists and pinned them above your head.
"Shouldn't—shouldn’t I?" You asked.
Steve lifted his head and shushed you. He hovered menacingly over your body. Lust emanated from his eyes and consumed your body.
"Just be mine," he said.
His hot breath wafted on your skin as your breast heaved against his chest. You had forgotten that Steve could overwhelm you with such when he had you under him and how burdening it was to be in his hungry gaze. Your body became frail on instinct, it knew that you had to surrender to his desires.
He dipped his head to steal another kiss from your lips before lowering himself to your chest. He tasted your skin with his tongue and sucked his way down to your breasts. He slid the thin straps of cloth from your bosom and freed them for his feasting.
You could only squirm beneath him as he latched his mouth around your left nipple and kneaded your other breast with his hand. His ministration had small droplets of milk sprouting from your breast and he lapped it up eagerly without a delay. Your body burned as his hot tongue assaulted your tender flesh. And you whimpered as he groaned with pleasure.
He seemed to be content by your breasts alone, refusing to move from them even as his hips bucked into your stomach and his hardness craved for release.
“Steve,” you moaned.
You did not know if you could withstand his touch for long even though you could not escape it.
“Please,” you begged, wanting him to hurry.
Steve chuckled and released your nipple from his mouth. He grinned and lifted himself to look upon you.
“I’ve barely even started and you already are flustered,” he mused.
You panted in response as Steve pushed the skirt of the gown up your thighs. You whined through closed lips as he grazed the skin between your legs. He cupped your mound and you produced an embarrassing gasp. It had been a while since he had touched you in that manner.
“Not even a shift,” he chided.
He tutted and shook his head in disapproval, but his fingers were happy to dip between your folds and to find you wet for him.
"Do you know how infuriating it was for me to see you display yourself to the other lords in this…. only to be in— in his arms?" He grunted.
The feather-like movement of his fingers across your slit and over your sensitive nub had your body writhing and toes curling on the bed. It made it difficult for you to respond and speak. It was bewildering how he had been hungry for you yet you were the one being undone by him.
“Do you?” He asked again.
"I'm—ah—I’m here now…where I'm supposed to be," you mewled.
"Yes!" Steve pushed two fingers inside you in a rush and his excitement.
Your face contorted at the sudden stretch and despite the lubrication of your own juices, your walls were slow to accommodate the intrusion.
“All mine,” he roared as he fucked you with his fingers.
“They can never have this…James can never put his hands on you,” he rambled on.
“No,” you croaked.
His words made little sense to you as his fingers stoked the fire in your belly. Your walls clutched him and begged for the pleasure that you had not known you needed. You turned your head to the side, burying it in your arm as you bit your lip.
Steve snickered and retrieved his fingers from your wet channel, leaving you simmering at the edge of bliss. Broken whimpers left your lips as your body trembled with need.
He put his slickened fingers on your chin and tilted your face towards him. He smiled at your glistening face.
“You appear most beautiful like this…helpless, weak,” he squeezed your wrists in his left hand, “and oh, so needy.”
The mockery in his tone and his words was insulting. You hated that you had to give in to him and your body was less wilful than your mind. You had to remind yourself that it was a small price to pay for a larger reward, that Steve had to stroke his own bruised ego after you had humiliated him in front of everyone. It would take him time to come to terms with it and forget it.
“Do not worry, I shall give you more,” he said as he pushed his loosened breeches down his hips.
His thick length bobbed out from its confines and struck your thigh. The head was already leaking with arousal. You gulped the knot forming in your throat as he rubbed it between your folds and along your opening.
He put his hands under your knees and pulled them delicately around himself, spreading your body to place himself in position to take you. He nudged your entrance lightly with his cock. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the invasion.
Steve was uncharacteristically gentle as he pushed the tip of his cock in slowly with little force. You wiggled around him as he eased more of himself in. He grabbed your hips and angled them up to give himself a deeper passage while you took heavy breaths to calm yourself to make his entry smoother.
His patience lasted only up to half of his length.
“I can’t,” he panted before ramming the rest of himself in with one swift thrust.
Your eyes widened and watered at the inconceivable stretch. A shrill shriek escaped your mouth and your hands bolted to hold his shoulders as your insides stung from Steve’s taking.
He breathed heavily above you as he stilled and savoured your warmth around himself. Your muscles relaxed around him soon and you were grateful for the reprieve. He bent down to kiss you. Your arms folded around his back, inviting more of him in.
“I’ve waited too long for this…you’ve kept me for too long from this,” he heaved over your face.
“I’m here now,” you said, but you could see that he would need much more to become certain of his claim on you.
He looked at you with such fervour that you could have combusted under his gaze as he began to move. Averting his eyes, you clutched his back and dug your teeth into your lip to contain the whimpers evoked by his cock.
The bed rocked under your collective weight as he took a fast pace to rut into you. His thrusts were not jarring but they were not gentle either. The rhythm of his bucking hips and his frantic breaths were telling of the urgency he was in to have you. He barely pulled out of you and only went in deeper as he rolled his hips against your thighs. His grip was bitingly tight on your hips as if you would be lost to him if he let you go for even a small moment.
Everything that he did was overwhelming your senses. And yet it sparked up your core as Steve drove in at an angle that made you arch your back. He chuckled and buried his head in your neck. Encouraged by your response, he went harder until your cries and moans melted into each other.
His cock twitched as your walls squeezed him. He ground his pelvis against your mound, rubbing your swollen nub just enough to make your thighs quiver around him. Your body was set ablaze as he pushed you to your edge once again.
Your muscles tightened and your body curved against him as the bubbling heat burst through your nerves. Steve groaned at you contracting around him as you tried to derive every last bit of pleasure from him. He stared at you in awe as you threw your head back and opened your mouth to moan inaudibly.
Steve did not hold himself back for long. He followed your pursuit as he pumped out ropes of seeds deep inside your channel, assaulting your sensitive flesh even more.
He dropped his chin to his chest and breathed heavily over you as you lay limp on the bed. Steve’s ravishing had exhausted you entirely and left your body drenched in sweat and shame.
Steve ran his fingers over your wet cheek and smiled.
“All that trouble, only to moan for me like a whore the moment you had me in you,” he taunted.
You pursed your lips and looked away from the crooked grin on his face. You did your best to fight the humiliation but his mocking was not helpful.
He snickered and bent down to kiss your forehead.
“You look tired, dear sister,” he said.
“I am…aren’t you?”
“No,” he answered swiftly. “Not so soon.”
“Oh,” you huffed.
You shifted uneasily on the bed. He held you in place with his hands. His smirk widened at the sight of dismay on your face and you cursed him in your thoughts.
Steve lifted his hand to your chin and grabbed it in his fingers, squeezing them into your cheeks. He shook your head teasingly as he lowered himself over your body.
"Oh, I think that the entire night would not be enough for me to satisfy my craving for you, my Queen," he groaned and stirred inside you again.
His hips moved and you gasped at him hardening within your walls. He studied your expression with amusement before taking your mouth in another hungry kiss. His cockiness was annoying and you would have protested him or insulted him had your fate not depended on the amends that you needed to make with him.
You closed your eyes, swallowed your pride and surrendered yourself to him.
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader, Dark!Steve x Other Characters
Warnings: Incest, cheating, betrayal, violence, humiliation, angst and misery. 18+ only. Minors DNI
Summary: This is a story set in a GoT-themed scenario, where the reader and Steve are half-siblings, and children of the Warden of Brooklyn (South). You both hate each other and try to compete with each other until one of you rises above the other.
A/n: Prepare yourselves for hating Steve. The story is available on my Ao3, here’s the link. The dress that I describe for reader is inspired by one of the outfits worn by Daenerys. This chapter is around 9k long so read when you have the time and are relaxed. Thank you!
Chapter 29
“I fear that this may not be right, your grace,” Leila put forth her worries as she saw you preparing yourself for Lily’s wedding.
She was sceptical of your attire which she expressed through her gaze as Elia helped you wear the gown.
“It may not be. But how does that matter?” You reverted.
You admired your reflection in the mirror and the beauty of the gown on your body. It was the colour of a light blue with patterns of gold printed on the thin fabric. The design was Asgardian, one of many gifts that you had received for your wedding. It was not as modest as the dresses worn by the noblewomen of America, but with the help of Elia and Leila, you had succeeded in making it appear even more provocative on your body.
Its wrinkled skirt flowed below your hips down to your feet. Anya secured it on your torso by fastening a lattice belt made of gold around your waist. Above your belly, the gown extended into two broad straps that covered each of your breasts separately and left the entire middle of your chest exposed, a choice you had made while altering the garment with the aid of the handmaidens.
You touched the skin on your clavicle and twirled to examine the gown from behind. Elia pulled the straps over your shoulders and stretched the cape that was sewn into the dress, over your naked scarred back. You smiled to yourself as you spun on your feet. You had never been a lady bold enough to wear clothes of such fashion and you knew that Steve would not have approved of it in the past. But you had lost the ability to respect the norms of the world anymore.
“It looks wonderful, does it not?” You asked the handmaidens as you smoothed the skirt with your hands.
They exchanged glances among themselves and you were aware of the disapproval they had for your gown.
"Pardon me, your grace. But it does not seem that this gown is fit for a Queen," Elia said.
You shrugged. "I may not be a Queen for long. I do not need to act like one."
She pursed her lips and lowered her head. You tutted at her.
“I asked you all a question. Does it look wonderful, beautiful or not?”
“Your grace, you appear magnificent, more beautiful and desirable than any of the ladies here, but—”
“But?” You arched a brow at Elia.
"But the lords,” Leila objected, “if they see you like this, they may not see you as the Queen."
You sighed.
“They may look and they may demean me in their thoughts. I care not for it.”
“Yes, but you shouldn’t provoke the King anymore!” Leila countered quickly.
She seemed to be very worried about your decisions and the destruction that you could bring upon yourself with it. It was admirable, but not shared by you.
Anya put a thin band of gold with beaded sapphires in it around your neck as you put the blue stones in your ears. Meanwhile, Leila continued to ramble on.
“And what if he refuses to protect you should any of the lords…want you? He has already decided to go to the wedding without you!”
You laughed at her suggestion.
"Leila, you worry too much,” you said as you turned towards her.
She frowned and lowered her head.
“I do not intend to go to the wedding by myself. I will have a man to look after me,” you informed her
“Who?” She asked as her eyes flitted at you with curiosity.
“The man I am going to send you for now. Go to the wedding and fetch Ser James for me.”
Leila stared at you with wide eyes. Her bottom lip quivered and the fear became apparent on her face.
“Ser—Ser James?”
A pang of guilt hit your chest as you recalled that her interaction with James had not been a good one. She had not been clear about how he had threatened her, but he had done enough to inspire fear in her heart. You dreaded to think about him making Leila suffer for your mistakes and you wanted to reprimand him for it, but your circumstances had changed as had the little power that you had owned as the Queen.
“Oh, forgive me, my dear.”
Leila nodded and bit her lip.
“Anya, could you please go and get Ser James to come here? Tell him that I require his help. Lie if you need to convince him.”
"But, will he come?" Anya questioned, appearing doubtful of your proposition.
"He will. Tell him that I’m in tears and that I seek his help desperately, he will come if he has not decided to betray me entirely yet."
“Yes, your grace,” she agreed and went out of the chamber to fulfil your command.
You looked at the mirror again to assess your image. It had to be perfect. You had to draw James in the only way you could. He was your last chance at standing up against Steve in a way that he will never forget.
***
The doors to the bedchamber opened and in came the thumping steps of your Lord Commander. You saw the reflection of his concerned face in the mirror before you.
"What has happened?" He asked with urgency.
You turned around to greet the knight. James stopped in his place. His mouth was agape as his eyes lingered on your body in horror and lust.
"I'm glad you came, James," you said as you walked over to him.
"What— what do you want? She told me that you require me."
"I do. I wish to go to the wedding. But unfortunately, I do not have a man to put my arms on. Steve as you know is busy with his…affairs…I thought to myself, what better man to take me to the wedding than James Barnes?"
James regarded you in silence as you awaited his response. He pressed his lips in a thin line and exhaled.
"No,” he said bluntly, “I will not be a part of this."
You hummed as James headed for the door of the bedchamber.
"Very well, then Lord Clinton will have to do,” you proposed quickly.
James halted on his steps and you smirked to yourself.
“He is after all without a woman as well. And he has had his eyes on me since the moment I put my step in Missouri. I'm certain he would not only accept my offer, but he would also make the most of it.”
James gritted his teeth and sucked a breath through them. He retrieved his hand from the door and turned to you hesitantly.
“I will take you to the wedding,” he mumbled.
“Wonderful!” You clapped your hands together over your chest as you went near him.
“But I will not be part of any mischief that you are up to,” he warned you and waved a finger at your face.
“Oh, why would you say that, James?” You asked as you trod over to him.
You placed your hands on his arms and grinned at him.
“There can be many pleasures sought from mischief,” you said in a playful tone.
“And I,” you dragged your hands up his arms to his armoured chest, “had intended to give you many as a reward for your company.”
James uttered your name in warning as your touch made his breaths waver.
“The King–”
“Is busy with his whores, isn’t he?”
“And so, you wish for me to be your whore?”
You tutted at him and held his jaw with your palms, batting your lashes at him with a hint of wanton desire.
“I wish you to be the man who had shown me more pleasure than Steve ever could. Ha, he was never even half the man that you are, James.”
James watched you in a daze as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and to your breasts. Even with his bulky armour and heavy longsword on his belt, he remained still and vulnerable before you as you grazed his face and beard with your fingers.
You smiled at him and you pushed your bosom flush against his chest. He shuddered against your body.
“You do not have to keep yourself from your fantasies anymore, Ser James, I will not let you,” you whispered as you brushed his lips with your fingertips.
You stretched yourself up on your tiptoes to meet his height and brought your mouth near his. His fluttering hot breath fell on your face, but his hesitance wore down as soon as you captured his lips with yours. His reluctant hands melted at your hips and his fingers dug into your delicate flesh. His slithering tongue betrayed his facade of resistance as he strengthened the kiss by delving deeper into your mouth.
You dipped a hand under the plated base of his armour and cupped your hand over his crotch. He groaned into your lips and his cock twitched in your palm. The handmaidens turned themselves away from the vulgar scene as you broke through James' restraints.
Heat rose in your belly, both of arousal and satisfaction as James’s stiff shoulders slouched and gave in to desire. You let him savour your taste and touch for a while before you pulled your head from him only to pant and stare at him with hunger.
James produced a muffled grunt at the separation as he struggled to maintain his stoic composure before you.
You smiled and licked your lips while looking at his hungry blue eyes.
“Let us not delay any more. Take me to the wedding, James,” you told him.
He exhaled aloud and pulled his hands from your hips. He gulped and turned his head away from you as his face became red. He raised his elbow and offered it to you.
You hooked your right arm around it and waited for him to guide you out of the chambers.
“You are a valiant knight, James. You will have my gratitude, as much of it as you desire,” you said teasingly.
He walked with silence as you exited the chambers. The gaze of the rest of the Kingsguard followed you as you left hand in hand with their Lord Commander.
The hallways were empty and free. Almost all of the castle was busy with the wedding ceremony. You leaned into James’ body and held his armoured arm tightly to your front.
“Your attire isn’t modest. You should not let the men… the lords see you like this,” he remarked.
“They will only see what you can have, and I trust you to be my saviour should I need rescuing from the men,” you replied.
“You are not even wearing a shift,” he chided.
“For your ease, perhaps,” you said with a snicker.
James hummed and balled his fists as he marched in silence. You rolled your eyes at his sternness
“Oh, James! Do not act so coldly with me, you will break my heart!”
“I do not trust your intentions.”
“Oh, what folly can I play? I only wish to join the festivities, dance with the others and congratulate the bride and groom. It is an occasion of love and happiness, we should not celebrate it by ourselves, wouldn’t you agree?”
His face remained grim. You sighed at his hostility towards you and put your cheek against his pauldron. He talked to you no more as he led you down the stone steps of the castle to the Grand Hall where the wedding was taking place.
The joyous tune of celebration vibrated from the gates of the Grand Hall and echoed on the stone walls beyond it. Your heart thrummed with anticipation as you were about to put yourself in the most precarious position before all the nobles and your brother. There may be some achievements but they would only be followed by great losses.
But Steve could not be allowed to have a smooth and pleasant victory.
You held your head up and strong as you always had through your pain and suffering. James paused for a moment outside the gates as the guards opened them for you both. You prepared yourself to walk in with pride. The light of more than a hundred candles glowed through the widening sliver and shimmered on your faces
“Now, Ser James, I expect you to dance with me. And if you fail to do so, I will find someone else to dance with. I presume that the men would be quite drunk by now and searching for a woman to get their hands on, so it would be easy to get them to take me for a twirl.”
“How manipulative you are,” James commented and narrowed his eyes on you.
The cacophony of laughter, cheers and music all blended together and reached your ears as you stepped in with James.
You giggled. “I’m only helping you to free yourself. For long you have been caged behind this hard iron and steel.”
You rapped your knuckles on his silver breastplate and grinned. He viewed you with scepticism but you knew that it wouldn’t last for long against his desire for your body. With that knowledge, you turned your head forward and let James take you into the Grand Hall.
Banners of both Houses hung on opposite walls and at the very end of the hall sat the young husband and wife with their hands intertwined with each other on the table. The tables for the nobles and the guests were arranged on each side of the hall. The space between them was wide and allowed all the men and women to dance to their heart’s content.
Lily was the first to look at you and she beamed at you with giddiness. You smiled at her. The golden wedding gown paired well with her golden hair and made her appear exquisite. But her smile faded when she saw your clothing. Her groom, Lord Damon had a darker gaze, yet his eyes were fixed on you.
Heads turned and whispers began as you walked past the people and searched for your seat. With the wedding ceremony over, the men and women took to indulging in the feast, drinking their ale and wine and dancing to the melody of the music. They were also free to talk and gossip.
The ladies watched you in awe and judgement. The lords were much the same but they did not do well to hide the lust in their eyes, especially Lord Clinton who had once been denied from having his way with you by the very man on whose arm you were.
You walked with pride and basked in their piercing gazes.
“And where would my seat be?” You wondered as you searched among the crowded tables.
“There,” James pointed at the abandoned and deserted table situated adjacent to Lily and Damon’s dais.
“Oh,” you said as you looked at the two tall and empty chairs.
Steve's absence from the chair which was fitting only for the King was strange as you had expected him to have another woman sitting beside him just to mock you and mark his shifting affection from his wife to the other ladies.
“He sits with his ladies,” James informed you.
Upon glancing through the faces of the various ladies and lords in the hall, you found the familiar face of your brother, sitting in the middle of the hall, among the other nobles. He sat in the midst of a few women, one of them being Maria who had her arm spread across the chest of Steve’s black tunic. They sat far from the King and Queen’s table. You were amused by his choice but were glad that he had at least spared you your seat.
Your guts twisted as you made the mistake of matching his blue eyes. He saw you with scrutiny and his hatred penetrated your soul, but you did not hold his gaze for long. You did not intend to give even the smallest pleasure of your fear and sadness to him.
“You have his attention, are you satisfied?” James asked as he stopped you both before the two empty armchairs.
“Of so little?” You asked before taking your seat.
James sighed and took his guarded position behind you. The handmaidens and servants rushed to bring the delicacies to your plate and wine to your goblet. You rested your back on the chair and dug your nails into the wood.
You explored the hall and the nobles in it who studied you with taunting gazes. The only lady who was smiling at you was Margaret. She sat happily with her husband to her left and her niece to her right. You returned the smile to her, sharing her contentment for the young girl’s safety. It was a blessing that Steve had not attempted to get her back again.
The others did not regard you with such gentleness. Some of them even smirked at you and laughed at you for your loss of your husband. They saw that you had no power anymore and it made your skin burn. Your anger was not enough to scathe any of them. They apprehended your doom as much as you did. But they would witness your lack of care for it and they would see you toss away the crown yourself before Steve gave it to another.
You picked up the goblet full of wine from the table and brought it to your lips. The liquid did not calm the rush in your nerves but it put you at a little ease.
Lord Damon, the young groom, got up from his place and walked towards you as you sipped the wine. He stopped before your table and bowed to you with his hand on his chest.
“You appear most beautiful, my Queen. I thank you for gracing us with your pleasant presence,” he said as he offered you, his hand.
“You have my blessings Lord Damon, may you have a happy marriage,” you said, placing your fingers on his palm and raising the goblet in the air with your other hand.
He kissed your knuckles and grinned at you.
“Would you give me the honour of dancing with you, your grace?”
“Only if your bride allows it.”
“She has had her fill already, your grace,” he said.
He looked at Lily and she nodded at him.
“Then you may have the honour,” you said.
Damon’s dark curls fell on his face as he bowed to you and moved behind to allow you to step down from the pedestal. You put down the goblet on the table, stood up from your seat and faced James who watched you with much disapproval.
“I’m allowed to dance, James,” you hissed at him
His reply was a quiet shake of his head.
“The next man will be you, do not forget it,” you said.
Damon waited for you with a wide smile and a stretched hand for you to take. You put your palm in his and let him pull your body close to his. He placed a bold hand on your waist and grinned at you as his fingertips brushed the skin of your back.
You watched the young lord with amusement as he spun you both towards the dancing ladies and lords. He was a handsome man with a strong jaw and broad shoulders, but he was not powerful enough in the South yet to have the confidence to stare at his Queen with the lust in his brown eyes and with such fearlessness in the presence of the King himself. His boldness was bewildering.
“I have not seen a woman like you here,” he said.
“The rumours about you before it all… were exciting but quite unsavoury. But now that I finally meet you, your reputation matches you well.”
You arched a brow at him.
“I mean no offence,” he defended himself quickly, “you are a Queen of fantasies.”
“And what would be the meaning of that?”
“The meaning…is that I pity our King, he searches for other women, those ladies when he has you.”
“Speak carefully, Lord Damon,” you warned him.
“A Queen should not be left alone,” he continued.
“And a new husband should not be talking in such a manner,” you rebuked.
He was nonchalant to your scolding. Instead, he only smirked at you.
“You grow bitter. I can help you with that, put you at ease. Perhaps, I can pay you a visit when the castle is asleep.”
You glared at him. “If you do then you will have to return to your wife without your manhood and I would hate to do that to young Lily.”
“The Kingsguard is still loyal to you? Even after…the King himself isn’t?”
You had the urge to slap his face for his taunt. His suggestion was insulting, yet not questionable. Apart from James, you did not know if there was any other Kingsguard who would still follow your commands and show you respect. You clenched your jaw and held back the curses.
“It is your wedding, Lord Damon and so I shall choose to be forgiving, for the sake of Lily. I will give you the opportunity to return to your wife or I will have to give you the proof of my Kingsguard’s loyalty to you.”
You looked at James and so did Damon. Fortunately, James understood your discomfort and glowered at the young lord with his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword.
“I would rather enjoy it too,” you added and sneered at him.
Damon’s hold on you slackened and his hands fell from your body. He took a step back as the determination died on his face.
“Your grace,” he said with a bow before scrambling to reach his wife.
You exhaled and twisted your neck, shrugging off the tainting perverseness of his interaction. You turned to your table with a smile and opened your right arm to James.
“My knight in shining armour,” you mused as you offered him your hand, “I believe you owe me a dance.”
James closed and opened his fists at his sides as he looked at you warily. You tilted your head at him, remaining stubborn in your demand as he sighed. He showed hesitance as he stepped forward and came around the table to take your hand in his.
You led him to the centre of the wide floor of the Grand Hall and helped him put his spare arm around your hips.
“You will have me killed,” James said.
“You should not worry about that, Damon did not. Not until he saw you…”
“What did he say to you?”
“Well… he said how he would like to fuck me now that he does not have to be afraid of Steve’s loyalty towards me,” you paraphrased Damon’s words to James.
“That little—” James attempted to break from your hold but pulled him back.
“Leave him be. He cannot be faulted for his thoughts.”
“He should be! How dare he?”
James’ open expression of his need to protect you was most endearing and strangely soothing to your heart. You had despised the man for long and yet he was the only one who remained with a little affection for you to cling to. But not for long.
You huffed. “I imagine that it must be quite alluring to fuck the Queen and they have been given a chance by your friend, your King.”
“It would not have been this way—you have done this and now— instead of making amends, you are here, dancing with me and trying to seduce me when you should do this with him!”
His anger was alarming and perturbing. You did not want to be scolded by him. You had done all that you could already.
“I offered to, but he refused,” you said through gritted teeth.
“And? Your decision is to make him jealous instead of doing something–”
“He has made his decision, James. He wants to get rid of me. He wants his son to be without his mother.”
Your heart twinged even as you spoke about it. You swallowed and blinked the tears away. You had to portray a strong front.
“He would never do that to you, he could not separate you from the prince!” James argued with conviction.
“I don’t wish for that to happen either, James… but if it does, the kingdom will talk about it. They would ponder upon the reason for which I lost my Queenship. There will be rumours.”
James gave you a puzzled look.
“It cannot simply be because his heart strayed for other women, he can barely decide which woman he wants,” you said as you glanced at the ladies sitting around Steve from the corner of your eyes.
James took a glimpse of them too and sighed. “But–”
“But,” you interjected and placed your hand on his cheek, “if the choice was given to me, I know exactly which man I would choose.”
You traced the skin of his face with your thumb as you stared at him with yearning. His chest fluttered as he drew out shallow breaths. He swallowed as he looked into your eyes.
“And they would know too,” you concluded.
The lines of James’ face softened and his anger faded away.
“What— what do you mean?”
You smiled bitterly at him.
“It’s a shame that you chose this path for yourself, Ser James…I was quite fond of you when I was young…before it all happened. I still think about how wonderful it would have been if we would have just escaped Brooklyn together. We could have lived as peasants, farmers in the south or the north, perhaps even in Asgard or Wakanda. We could tend to the fields together, and rear chickens and cattle. I’d milk the cows and look after the household, you would have gone to the city to sell our harvest and returned to hot food and a warm bed…and me.”
Your throat tightened as you uttered the words. It was a beautiful fantasy that could never be achieved.
“It would have been a peaceful life with no conflicts, wouldn’t it have been?”
James did not open his mouth but his eyes spoke a thousand words. His fingers curled around your hips in a futile attempt to keep you close. His yearning warmed your chest.
“Jaime would have had open fields to run in as well and you of course could have taught him how to use the sword,” you pondered further.
“Jaime would not have been born,” he contended.
His voice was low and hoarse. You raised your brows at him.
“Would he not?” You smiled at him.
James pursed his lips and gulped. But he did not say anything. You lowered your eyes to his chest.
“But that is just a dream,” you said.
“So, I’m just a pawn then…in this last petty attempt for you to do…this?”
“Don’t be angry with me, you could have been more than just a pawn, but you chose this for yourself instead…that is not my fault,” you snapped sharply at him.
He scowled at you.
“You spin your tales of lies so easily when you want to have your way,” he snarled, the rage returned to his face.
“They are not lies, Ser James!”
You crossed your hands around his neck and pulled yourself flush against him.
“You were always gentler than him and perhaps, better to Jaime as well…I’m bound to fantasise of a better life for myself and my child that you could have made possible if you had not chosen Steve.”
James did not express his acceptance or rejection of your justification. He only stared at you with blank eyes.
“Are you saddened by what is not? Did you not dream about it?” You asked, curious to know about what his wishes were.
But James did not answer and you took it as his inability to declare his true wants and dreams.
“Well, we should leave the wedding then so we can wash away our troubles.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Oh, James, James…let me have this, let me have you,” you cajoled him as you reached for his lips.
James had no defence for himself as he let you latch your mouth to his. The hall went silent and the gasps arose in it like music to your ears. You continued to devour his mouth with passion and to your delight, James could not pull away.
“Enough!” You heard Steve roar from behind. “Put an end to this wedding! Empty the hall!”
Startled, James finally attempted to pull himself away but you caught his bottom lip between your teeth. You nipped at it lightly before letting it go.
Sweated beaded on his forehead as he saw the Kingsguard rush everyone out of the hall. From your periphery, you could see four of them heading for you and you slipped your hands off James’ shoulders, resting them on his forearms instead.
Your heart was racing but you tried not to show it on your face.
“What have you done?” James asked in a whisper.
“I don’t know,” you said.
“Away you two!” A Kingsguard barked as he pointed his sword at you and James.
You pulled your hands to yourself and turned around to find Steve seething in fury at his table. It was both a gratifying and terrifying vision.
He glared at you and James as you stood close to each other anticipating the repercussion of your actions. Steve kicked the table in front of him as the last of the people left the hall in scrambles. The cutlery flew around and landed on the floor with loud clunks while the food was wastefully smeared on the stone.
He stomped his feet down from his pedestal and drew out his sword from its sheath as he marched towards you.
“Oh lord,” you cursed.
James put his hands outwards and away from his sword to present his compliance and unwillingness to put up a fight against them as well as Steve. You did not see the use of challenging Steve in combat either.
“You son of a bitch! How dare you do this?” Steve growled.
Your eyes widened as you saw him point the tip of his sword at James. His anger was expected, but you had not predicted that he would unleash his wrath upon James before you. James always seemed to be the one who could do no wrong in Steve’s eyes and yet that notion was challenged right before you.
You placed yourself in front of James and stretched your arms to your sides, creating a barrier between him and Steve.
“What are you doing?” James asked.
“Of all the things you’ve done James, this is not what I want you to be punished for,” you spoke to him under your breath.
“Come out from behind her you coward!” Steve yelled.
“Steve! There is no need for violence,” you attempted to coax him.
“You shut your filthy mouth!”
***
Steve watched the married couple and the dancing ladies and lords in disgust as he drank the last sips of ale from his goblet. They seemed to be cheerful in each other’s company and he detested that. She had ruined even the smallest pleasures of life for him.
Even Maria’s sweet whispers in his ears and her caressing and seducing touch failed to entice him. Two other ladies, whose names he had not made the effort to remember, sat to his right and attempted to draw some response from him by offering their bodies and devotion to him. But he did not want that. He did not want to bed any of them. He was not certain of what he wanted to do apart from wallowing in his misery.
Steve had not noticed the gates of the Great Hall open and the new pair entering the wedding until he heard the whispers arise from his sides.
“The Queen,” they chanted and wondered among themselves.
“Who is she with?”
“Is that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?”
“Is that Ser James Barnes?”
His ears perked up in alarm and he straightened his back as his eyes landed on her. His breath faltered at her sight and his jaw fell open in awe. The gown she wore was an atrocity and a delicacy at the same time. She appeared delectable to him and the knowledge that she appeared that way to the other lords was most discomforting for him. It did not help his frustration to see her hanging by James’ arms in such a sweet manner as if she was his lover.
“Just ploys, your grace. Petty attempts to get your attention,” Maria cooed to him.
She put a hand on his face and turned his gaze away from his Queen. He wanted to heed Maria's words but he could not resist looking back at his sister. His heart pounded when her eyes met his. Disappointment besmirched her pretty face as she quickly turned away from him. She was embarrassed and troubled to find him in the other ladies’ arms. He had more power.
Yes. Yes. It’s all just to make me angry.
Steve let his muscles relax as he laid back on his seat, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He was thankful that once she had reached her table, she was out of his vision. But he found it difficult to bring himself peace as his thoughts strayed entirely to her.
He put down his goblet and a handmaiden filled it again. His eyes betrayed him as he picked it up and brought it to his lips.
His nostrils flared as he saw Lord Damon take her hand and pull her into his body. The young lord had the courage to put his hand on her hip as if Steve was not there, as if she was not his Queen, the wife of the King. Steve shuddered and his knuckles tightened around the goblet. He had the will to tear the lord away from his sister, but he could not show such outward possessiveness and jealousy for her. Not after he had made her believe that he had lost all his affection and desire for her. He could not let her win.
It is only a dance.
He lowered his head and picked up a fork to stab into the uneaten cold meat on his plate.
“Your grace, should we dance as well?” Maria asked him as she feathered her fingers over his chest.
She brushed her lips over the shell of his ear in a futile attempt to arouse him. Her servility was no longer of pleasure to Steve. He contained the urge to slap her away from himself and produced a long and tired exhale instead.
“Stay in your seat and keep your hands to yourself until I tell you otherwise, Maria,” he said.
Maria frowned but thought better than to question him as she slipped back to her seat with dejection.
Steve half-heartedly ate the shredded meat from his fork, washing them down with larger gulps of ale as he persuaded himself to not look at her or even think about her. Yet, he found himself to be impossibly curious about what her conversation with Lord Damon was about.
He sighed in relief when their dance ended and the lord removed his filthy hands from his sister. He relaxed his strained shoulders and reclined his back on the chair, finding peace in her returning to her seat as well. But his respite was short as he caught her stopping before her table and offering her hand to a man in front of her.
She spoke words he could not hear but the delight on her face was bothersome for him. His chest became heavy as he stared at her in anticipation of the man that she was waiting for.
The man that stepped out from the platform was no lord. He wore heavy armour, a long sword in his belt and the silver cloak of the men that had sworn their loyalty to him.
Steve’s eyes widened and his heart pounded in his ears as he saw his old friend, his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, put his hand on her palm and follow her rhythm to the music. Her eyes glimmered at James as she brought herself closer to his body and put his other arm around her hips.
His hands formed into fists on the wooden table as he stopped himself from gawking at them. It was her intention to vex him and he could not let himself be fooled by her manipulations. They were mere pitiful attempts to rouse some jealousy in him so that he may return to her and prove to her that his words were empty and had been said to her in vain.
Despite his reasoning for her actions, the ache in Steve’s chest refused to dull. His expectation that she would have abandoned her path of rebellion against him in face of his threats and infidelity had failed to come true. Instead of showing him her servitude and begging him for forgiveness, she was dangerously provoking his ire and Steve found it difficult to act indifferent and cold towards her.
Steve shifted uneasily in his seat as he put on a visage of ignorance to her and James’ dance. But he could not keep himself from stealing glimpses of them. He had to know, he had to see, he had to hear the words that she uttered to his friend with such sweet reverence in her gaze. Steve could only imagine what enchanting tales she spun for James that had him entranced in her talk.
With a fixation, he watched his wife, his sister dance with James. The ale and food wrestled in his stomach. The pair moved in slow circles in each other's arms and it was a sight both drawing and unbearable for him.
Steve saw her put her palm on James' cheek and graze the skin softly with her thumb as she spoke of something that he did not know. He squeezed his eyelids shut as the whispers began to stir in the Grand Hall. A sharp pain stung his heart as his breaths became laboured.
He wondered why could he not be in James’ place and have her put her hand on his cheek, stroke it gently as she whispered honeyed words with her tongue to him. Had James not been the cause of her pain as well? Had James not been an accomplice to Steve in all his actions that she loathed? Was James not as much of a monster in her eyes as Steve was?
Sweat sprouted on his forehead and his heart raced as he apprehended that her dance with James was an announcement that she would not bow to him even if he stripped her of her son and her privileges as a Queen. Steve was painfully aware of her stubbornness but he had not anticipated that she could find him so intolerable that she could risk losing everything precious to her instead of surrendering herself to him.
She would even dance with the man who had betrayed her trust and hurt her at her brother’s command. She would smile at him and whisper sweet things to him in front of everyone. But she would not submit herself to Steve.
"My sweet King," Maria called as she put a gentle hand on his jaw.
She drew his face towards herself and he let her.
"You do not have to witness her insolence, this is the aimless, desperate swinging of the sword of the one who is losing the battle. Allow me, allow us to relieve you," she said.
The lady with red hair to his right also put her hands on him. Steve wanted to believe Maria and melt in their hands. He thought it wiser to leave the Grand Hall in a bold show of his disregard for his Queen and her provocations. He could lay waste to her misguided attempts to humiliate him, but he could not do it. He could not bring himself to move and leave her behind. His head would spin if he would force himself to be oblivious of what was happening between her and James, in his absence they might just enjoy themselves even more.
His eyes were drawn to them again even when they knew that their sight would only bring him pain, and pain they did, as he saw her rope her arms around James’ neck and put her body smoothly against his torso. Her breasts were pressed against his armour and Steve was reminded of how long it had been since had experienced the pleasure of touching them. They continued to exchange words unknown to him. James made no attempt to escape her hold, his sworn devotion and loyalty to Steve seemed to have lost their meaning and that was even more disturbing if not less than her blatant expression of her attraction to James.
Everyone watched them in awe. It was as if she was never his Queen or his wife. In James’ arms she appeared to be his beloved and he, her doting lover. Steve’s breath wavered as he questioned if she was truly performing an act of manipulation. He feared that it was not a farce and that she was drawn to his friend and at last, she had found herself free to declare it to everyone after Steve had forsaken her. James’ failure to refuse her advances was perturbing and wounding to him as well. Steve had trusted him as a friend and he could not tolerate such a betrayal from him.
Steve's body quaked in his seat as he put his hand around the hilt of his sword, meaning to put an end to their unabashed show of treasonous disloyalty. He tapped his foot on the ground, waiting and hoping that James would put an end to her devilry, that he would push her away and make a fool of her in front of everyone so that Steve may laugh and punish her afterwards for her stupidity.
James did nothing of that sort. And Steve watched them like a stupid fool as his sister raised herself to meet James’s lips. The man simply surrendered himself to the kiss. Steve could not believe it. It was as if he was living a nightmare. He closed his eyes and opened them again only to find that the worst was true.
The hall fell silent and the music stopped. Gasps and whispers erupted as everyone paid witness to their Queen’s open display of adultery and the disloyal indulgence of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard in her as well. Steve was utterly humiliated. Blood boiled in his veins with such a heat that he thought that it would burst out of his flesh.
Steve banged his hands on the table and stood up from his seat with a fuming fury that made the wooden furniture quake.
"Enough!" He screamed at them. He could not play the facade of indifference any longer. "Put an end to this wedding! Empty the hall!"
The Kingsguard understood his command and began to usher the people out of the Grand Hall. The lords and ladies were surprised, shocked and apprehensive. Steve cared none for ruining the wedding celebration. He could not be bothered by their affairs when his marriage and his friendship were in disarray.
The two of them stayed intertwined with their lips even as the crowd hurried past them and it infuriated him. Steve pointed the knights to them, wanting them separated by force if need be.
His chest heaved and his skin burned as he watched her tug on James’s lips with her teeth before releasing him. She put her hand on his arm and refused to move at the Kingsguard orders.
Steve was enraged, not only by her open infidelity but by his friends' treachery as well. James had stood by him through the darkest and most testing times, but he had betrayed him for a woman and all he could wish for was to beat the knight's face into a mush.
As she turned around to face him, Steve averted her eyes and looked at James instead. She had broken his cold exterior with ease and yet, Steve wished to not let her see that she had laid waste to his claims of power over her as well.
He kicked the table before him onto the floor as the last of the people ran around it. He stepped down from the platform, took out his sword and he marched towards them.
"You son of a bitch!" He addressed James. "How dare you do this?"
He pointed his sword at the knight, determined to strike him down with it. James’ eyes were yielding and his hands were far from his weapon, but he did not form a verbal defence for himself. Perhaps, he was too ashamed to.
His sister surprised him more than she already had by standing between him and James. She spread her arms to barricade him further from Steve.
Steve clenched his jaw, glaring momentarily at her as he stopped before them. He could not decide if he was more hurt by seeing her protect the traitor, another man from Steve or if he was more antagonised by James accepting it.
He chose to approach James because he could. For her, he was not certain what he could do to her and if there was anything left to do to her.
“Come out from behind her you coward!” Steve yelled and thrust the sword at his face.
“Steve! There is no need for violence,” she interrupted and showed him her palm.
“You shut your filthy mouth!” He deflected her.
He kept his gaze fixed on James, finding it difficult to even look at her.
"You traitor! I make you the Lord Commander of my Kingsguard and this is how you repay me? By putting your hands on my wife?"
"Steve, your anger is understood. But your accusation is only partially true. James is not a traitor,” she defended him.
Steve panted through his teeth and stared at James. He wished that her claim was true and that the man who had been a brother to him since they were children could never betray him willingly, but he hated to hear the justification from her mouth.
“…if I must say, it was I who put my hands on your friend, your Lord Commander. He only did what he had to do to protect me."
"Protect her? By kissing my wife in front of everyone?"
"I requested him to, Steve! He did what he had to do to protect me from your ravenous lords, they have grown quite bold and predatory seeing your loyalty for me fade. James was only doing his duty!"
"You could have locked her in her chamber or brought her to me, but you did this instead."
James had nothing to offer him except his guilt-ridden face and his sorrowful eyes.
"Answer me, you traitor!"
"Steve, I assure you that James is loyal to you. He is only a man and he could not resist his own carnal desires, but– he was not happy about it—"
"I do not want to hear this witch! Take her away and lock her up in some chamber!"
She protested and writhed as two of the Kingsguard grabbed her by her arms. They dragged her out of the Grand Hall, the kicking of her feet along with her wails echoed within the walls as Steve came forth to stand before James with the sword pointed at him.
His brows were furrowed and his shoulders were strained as Steve regarded him with disappointment. James raised a hand towards him and with the other hand he drew out his own long sword from its sheath. Steve steadied his stance, huffing as he prepared to duel with the only man he had never wished to.
James lifted the sword up and moved it to his right.
“I will not fight you,” he said and discarded the sword on the floor.
The heavy weapon touched the stone with a loud clang. Steve stilled and sighed to himself. James’ forfeit was pleasing and while it did not put an end to Steve’s resentment for him, it made him drop his sword as well.
Steve decided to charge at James with his fists instead. The knight did not protest him as he was struck by punches to his jaw.
"You ungrateful, traitorous scum! I entrusted you with my life and you've done this to me!"
"Your grace–"
James shifted back on his steps and fended Steve’s attack with his hands. He revealed no sign of fighting Steve as he pleaded for his King to listen to him.
Steve circled his friend as he panted and readied his fists again.
"Do you take me for a fool? That I would believe that you were protecting her? You were only waiting for the opportunity to claim her as yours, weren't you?"
"No, Steve! I would never do that— I truly was protecting her!" James justified.
Steve growled at his lies. He stormed at him and knocked his jaw. He put his hand around James’ throat to keep him steady as he battered the knight’s face with his fists till it was bloodied and bruised. His friend urged him to stop but made no attempt to do so himself even though he was strong enough to stand his own ground against Steve.
He took the rage complacently from his friend. Steve was more aggravated by it. It was James’ display of surrender and a show that he could never stand against Steve. And though that was what Steve wanted to believe, James’ actions had been too hurtful for him to forget so easily.
James blocked a punch from Steve and pushed himself out of his King’s grip. He stood back and wiped the blood leaking from his nose.
"Listen to me, Steve!" James rasped.
The knight crossed his forearms in front of his face. Steve grunted and kicked his chest, making him fall on the steps of the dais where Lily and Damon’s table was kept.
His fall was shielded by his armour. James only winced briefly before leaning back on the steps as he caught his breath and raised his head at Steve.
"Stop this, Steve,” he panted, “this will bring no good.”
"And what will? How am I to bring any good to you or to myself, when my friend touched my wife, my sister in front of me, or rather she kissed you as she says… in front of most of the Kingdom!"
James sat upright and placed his palms on his knees.
"It's only a display of her anger. A protest. You must see that, Steve."
"And what did she seek to achieve from it? Have me charge you both with treason and behead you?"
"Steve! You've hurt her enough, you cannot cage her anymore. You cannot tame her and if you do, she would only make you regret it even if she hurts herself in the way, don't you see?"
Steve paused and pursed his lips. His mouth went dry and his breaths became shallow as he pondered upon James’ words.
Steve’s hands trembled as he came to realise what he could not accept. He could not control her. He could use force, and violence and subject her to endless pain and torture.
What was the use of it?
Dejection made his arms weak as they fell to his sides and lost their strength to assault James.
"Then what am I to do with her?” He asked in desperation. “I've given her all but she wouldn't accept it…if I stray from her, she cannot tolerate it…she cannot let us be happy, James!"
"Perhaps,” James groaned as he touched his face, “you should ask her and not threaten her."
"And what would she say? That she would rather marry you instead of me?"
"Steve— I would never do such a thing. I've stood by you and I've made certain that she is kept safe beside you and for you,” James defended.
Steve listened to him with intent and agreed that James had given him his unbound devotion and loyalty which was unparalleled to any other. A friend like him, a brother like him could not be simply discarded. But the memory of his hands and lips on her body soured that unbroken bond that he had once shared with James. She had damaged him in ways she could not even begin to understand.
“You've gifted me many rewards for my loyalty and I am honoured. I would never cast them away just for her…"
"I would like to believe you, James. I would like to believe you," Steve said.
James sighed. "Then believe me.”
Steve nodded and walked over to James. He offered the knight a hand and helped him stand on his feet.
"James, you've been a loyal friend to me for long and I'd like to believe that you speak the truth. I shall let you live, but,” Steve clutched James’ silver cloak with his other hand and tore it with a harsh pull, “you will no longer wear the cloak, nor the armour."
James rounded his eyes and furrowed his brows as he looked at Steve with puzzlement and desolation. The sting of betrayal had touched him at last.
“After all that I’ve done?” He asked.
Steve released his hand and stepped back.
“You’ve done enough,” Steve told him.
James stared at him wordlessly as he closed his jaw.
“You may redeem yourself if you’re able to,” Steve spat at him.
He heard him exhale as he turned around and headed for the gates of the Grand Hall. The Kingsguard followed him.
“Take me where she is,” he told them.
He took in deep breaths as he prepared himself to face her. There was another battle to be fought and he was not certain if he had the heart to partake in it.
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader, Dark!Steve x Other Characters
Warnings: Incest, cheating, implied noncon, implied violence, humiliation, overall darkness and misery. 18+ only. Minors DNI
Summary: This is a story set in a GoT-themed scenario, where the reader and Steve are half-siblings, and children of the Warden of Brooklyn (South). You both hate each other and try to compete with each other until one of you rises above the other.
A/n: Prepare yourselves for hating Steve. The story is available on my Ao3, here’s the link.
“If he requires me, have a word sent to me,” you told Elia.
The handmaiden fixed the skirt of the teal gown while you watched your sleeping son. The sun shone dimly upon his face through the open window and yet it did not disturb his slumber. You smiled at him.
“Yes, your grace,” Elia said.
Once the hem was stretched to its full flow, Elia stood upright and faced you with her hands folded on her waist, awaiting your next order.
“If Anya learns something of Leila, then tell her to come to me at once,” you added.
While you had little faith left in the handmaiden’s ability to provide you with any kind of aid, you did wish to see her and be aware of her well-being. She might even give you newer insights about Steve that could help you contemplate the decisions that you needed to make regarding him.
“Yes, your grace,” Elia replied with a bow of her head.
You nodded at her and reached toward Jaime to place a kiss on his head. Elia smiled at you, assuring you that he was safe in her care. The Kingsguard, Ser William and Ser Franklin were also positioned at the chambers to keep guard of him. Two other Kingsguard were prepared to accompany you to your evening gathering with the noblewomen of the kingdom.
You exhaled the weight in your chest. It was not going to be a pleasure to meet the women after they had witnessed your reputation being tarnished by Steve’s open display of infidelity. To converse with the ladies who seduced the King, Maria and Sharon, would be an even tougher task as you were certain that they would be full of pride and eager to relish in your humiliation.
You had to play the part of a headstrong Queen, nevertheless and so you strode across the hallways of the castle along with the heavily armoured men at your sides.
The scent of freshly baked sweet and salted confectioneries and hot tea reached your nose as you entered the garden, but it failed to stoke your appetite. You could deduce the lack of a few women among the nobles that were seated in the gazebo from the empty seats between the ladies. The absence of Maria and Sharon became noticeable as you neared the stone structure and ran your eyes through the pretty faces.
Your stomach churned and your feet slowed in their walk. You were not aware of the events that had taken place after you had left the Grand Hall, but these women were. While you had only seen a mostly naked Steve arrive shamelessly back to your chambers in the morning after, carrying the stench of his deviance and disloyalty on his skin, you did not have the entire knowledge about what he had done with the ladies and how much of it was seen by the noblemen and women of your kingdom. Perhaps, they had mocked you all together and celebrated your degradation as Steve took the ladies as his mistresses. You dreaded the thought of him praising the women and boasting about his intention to give them your place.
A sense of sickness grappled your body as you went into the gazebo. The women rose from their seats to greet you but you shunned them with a flick of your wrist. The kingsguard followed you to the cushioned seat placed at the right end of the long table and stood behind it together while you sat down.
The ladies remained silent, their eyes were pointed at you as they waited for you to commence their celebrations. The reverence in their gaze for you was tainted but the presence of your bulky guardians made them nervous as they attempted to exchange glances among themselves.
"Your grace," Lady Lily spoke first. "I'm delighted that you came to join us here. It might be the last opportunity for us to share gossip over cakes and tea as my wedding is only two days away now."
She spoke with an innocent giddiness that was not shared by any other woman, including you, at the table. You gave the young bride-to-be a faint smile.
"Unless you decide to stay for a few days after the wedding, of course!" She added in haste.
"That might not happen.” You sighed. “It'd be best for Jaime to return to the comfort of his home the sooner we can."
“Oh.” The smile dulled on Lily’s face. “Perhaps, the King will… he seems to be happy here among his friends.”
You hummed with a tight jaw, looking down at the table where the handmaidens went around pouring the fragrant dark tea into the glass cups of each woman and adding the delicacies to each small plate. There was an uneasy silence in the gazebo. The women were uncertain of what to discuss with you when the burning matter of Steve’s infidelity raced through everyone’s thoughts. It bothered you the most. Being aloof to it made you appear more foolish.
You cleared your throat as you picked up the cup of tea and a sugar spoon, adding two dashes of sugar to the hot liquid and swirling it as you brought it to your chin.
“And where are our other lady friends?” You inquired, giving them a chance to answer as you took a sip of the sweet tea.
The ladies glanced at the empty seats and then at each other, each of them doing their best to avoid meeting your eyes. You contained a sigh as you placed the cup back on its plate on the table.
“Do they have more important matters to attend to?”
A few mouths opened but none spoke a word. You sighed in agitation.
Turning to the aunt of Sharon who was sitting to your right, you called her, “Lady Margaret?”
Her forehead wrinkled as she opened her mouth to answer your question. Though she presented herself as a beautiful and composed woman through her attire and face, her eyes held a gleam of despair.
“They—,” Lady Kate spoke from the other side of the table, “Maria and Sharon seem to be quite tired from the feast and dancing—”
You turned your head to her swiftly and narrowed your eyes at her and her insinuation.
“It has been a day since, has it not?” You countered sharply.
“Yes, but—”
“Have they not recovered yet?”
“P–pardon me, your grace, but I must say something to you if you allow me,” Lady Margaret intervened at last.
Her chest heaved inside the purple blouse of her gown as she clasped her hands together over her lap.
“And what would that be?” You asked.
“Sharon— Sharon, she is my niece,” she uttered with hesitance.
You noticed a hint of desperation in her eyes, a genuine worry with which she looked at you.
“I should have stopped her before, but she is young, innocent, and easy to be poisoned.”
“What is your meaning?”
“Sharon did not mean to insult you or the crown, neither do we…but— I have not seen her since she went with Maria and— his grace, during the feast.”
You raised your brows at her and the meaning of her words. To think that Steve had not let the ladies leave his side for even a moment since he had taken them after the feast was utterly disgusting and worrisome. It was not only shameful but offensive for a King to subject the noble ladies to such insult and violation. But these were not the concerns of your foolish brother. He was drunk on power.
“Handmaidens have told me about her…she is with him they say, but,” her voice broke as she spoke of her distress, “I worry for her. She is young, she is yet to marry, I do not want her to be hurt.”
Margaret swallowed and inhaled a deep breath as she lowered her eyes to her lap. Your heart twisted as you saw the glisten in them. Your initial distaste for Sharon waned as you came to understand the possibility of Steve assaulting her for his own needs. Women were only objects of pleasure for him.
“My efforts to have her return may not be fruitful, your grace, that is why I must request your help to convince her to join us ladies and our festivities again.”
Sharon was not the only one who needed to be convinced, but Steve as well. He was the one stubborn enough to commit such absurd acts and you were certain that he would not take kindly to your interference. But Lady Margaret’s plea had only strengthened your will to confront him. The girl would be freed and you would be given a chance to question him and put an end to his adultery.
“Hmm…I understand your pain, Lady Margaret. I will do what I can to have her sent to you.”
“I will be eternally grateful, your grace.” Her voice was elated with hope.
“As I am thankful for your honesty.”
Lady Margaret gave you a small smile and a bow of her head. The ladies stared awkwardly at the table, not lifting their eyes to meet one another as the sound of the birds chirping in the evening filled the silence of the gazebo.
Lily’s enthusiasm had diminished as well as she ate a piece of lemon cake with a faint frown on her face.
You stood from your seat as the ambition to find Steve and have him release the ladies from his mercy made you restless.
“Pardon me, ladies.” They turned their heads towards you together. “But I wish not to eat sweets now. Perhaps later or at Lily’s wedding.”
Lily raised herself to her feet and others began to as well. You gestured to them to sit down with your palm.
“Oh, I wish you would stay, your grace. A bard was to come here to sing us songs and poetry,” Lily said.
“That sounds wonderful, my dear. Do enjoy the music without me,” you told her as you crossed over to her side.
You placed a hand on her shoulder and brought your lips close to her ear.
“And where might I find your father and my husband in this large castle of yours?” You whispered in her ear.
“His chambers, I think. They shouldn’t be far from yours.”
You patted her shoulder and eyed the castle. There was much displeasure to be experienced in meeting the horrid men and your husband.
***
House Barton’s knights guarded the gates of the chambers. The absence of the silver-cloaked men marked the absence of your husband. The obscene noises coming from inside the room made you curious as did the knights’ staunchness to not let you enter the chamber.
Sharon might be in the chamber and if not, the lords would know where to find her and Steve.
As you reached to open the door with your hand, the knight on your right stepped in between.
"Forgive me, your grace. But you may not want to go inside. I can carry a message if you wish to," he said through his visor.
You widened your eyes at the man.
"Stand back, Ser. You do not have the authority to question the Queen," the Kingsguard warned him, putting his arm in between you and the knight.
The man retreated to his position with reluctance. You opened the doors only to be greeted by the lewdest scenery of lords taking advantage of women and men below them.
Naked bodies lay on the bed under the shadow of fire and the filtered dim light that fell through the rose drapes on the windows. Some lords had their women on the settee, some were on the table, on the floor and some were caged up against the wall. Yet, there was no sight of Steve nor the ladies.
The chamber reeked of sweating bodies and the sin of the noblemen. The most vulgar sounds of moans, cries and the slap of flesh on flesh assaulted your ears. You scrunched up your nose and looked away from the foul image. They were too immersed in the touch of each other's bodies to notice that you had entered.
"Attention!" The Kingsguard announced and stomped his foot on the ground.
Startled, the room fell quiet after a series of gasps as they all paused their activities to acknowledge your presence. You rolled your eyes in disappointment until your gaze fell upon the face of a familiar girl that was pinned underneath Lord Clinton moments ago.
You stepped forth to see her properly. Strands of dark curls stuck to the glistening skin of her face as she raised herself on her elbows on the bed. Her breasts spilt out of her pink tunic and the skirt was lifted to her hips. She was splayed open for the usage of Lord Clinton and the fatigue in her brown eyes made you nauseous. She was not supposed to serve as the men’s whore.
"Leila?" You called.
"Your grace!" She squealed, and a weak smile emerged on her face.
"Come here, girl!”
Leila rushed out of the bed, slipped past Clinton and ran to you in a hurry as she wrapped her thin tunic around herself. She appeared eager to be by your side and it perturbed you to imagine what ordeals Steve had forced her to endure.
“What is all this?" You asked the lords as you scowled at the pile of awkward and naked bodies across the chamber. “It is your daughter’s wedding and you’re here engaging in your perversions.”
"Your grace,” Clinton put his feet out of the bed and fastened his violet robe around himself as he measured your form, “—you shouldn't have come here. It is not fit for a lady— a Queen to be here.”
The edge of his lips twitched but he kept himself from smirking.
"And you shouldn't have been laying your hands on a handmaiden of the crown," you scorned him.
Clinton simply shrugged at you, seeming nonchalant at your scolding as if you had no power over him.
"I do nothing without his grace's permission," he said as he leered at Leila and then at you.
The handmaiden hid behind you.
“And where is he, your grace?”
"Well…his interests do not lie in common whores anymore," he mused as he glanced at the other lords.
He grinned and they laughed. Your cheeks burned as you glared at them.
"Your handmaiden would know," he added.
You looked to Leila and she averted her eyes from yours. You threw a last disgusted frown at the noblemen in the chamber and turned around to leave their repulsive company. The Kingsguard and the handmaiden followed your agitated stride.
The knights closed the doors behind you as you stepped out into the hallway. The orange hue of the setting sun and the fresh air were a welcome contrast to the wicked chamber. You soaked in it and continued to walk on the stone floor until you found a quiet nook, bereft of any persons of the castle.
The men and woman halted before you and awaited your next command. You shifted on your feet to face the distressed handmaiden and put a hand on her arm. Her appearance was troubling and you dreaded to think what could have made her so miserable.
“You appear to be sick, Leila. What has happened to you?”
Leila glanced at you and then at her sides where the Kingsguard stood.
“Leave us,” you told them.
“It is our command to not leave your side, your grace,” one of them objected.
“Stand back, Ser. This woman is frightened by men like you after what she has suffered. Have some honour and respect,” you rebuked his impudence.
“For a handmaiden?”
You arched your brow and glowered at him.
“It is your duty to protect not to interfere in the matters of women. I will not tolerate this rudeness—”
“Pardon us, your grace. We shall let the handmaiden speak, we will not stray afar,” the one on the right said.
He eyed his partner before the both of them began moving, walking past you and Leila to stand at a distance of a few feet, but not quite far away either. You were bothered by the Kingsguard keenness to surveil your doings and the command that they had received to keep an unwavering eye on you. Steve struck your ire even in his absence.
“Now, girl, tell me what you must,” you said.
“Are you certain that they cannot hear us?” Leila asked as she eyed the knights with apprehension.
You were not certain of how much privacy they would grant you, but you had to make the most of what you could get.
“Speak in whispers and all shall be fine,” you told her as you pulled her a little farther away from the Kingsuard with yourself.
She bunched her cotton skirt in her hands as sweat beaded on her forehead. She came closer to you with heavy breaths. Her fearful gaze fluttered around in vigilance for a threat. Your heart raced in her presence as well.
“It must all be his doing,” she started in whispers, “he might have them spying on you, your grace… he—he— I think he knows, your grace! I fear that…he might kill me!”
You tilted your head at her in confusion and looked at her with furrowed brows. She had rarely ever displayed such fear of Steve. Her suspicion of your husband spying on your activities was not surprising but disturbing nevertheless given that they could interpret any word of yours as treasonous enough to call for prosecution.
“What provokes you to say this?”
Leila tightened her jaw and bit her lip. Her gaze flitted again and again before resting on you.
“He has not been kind to me, he tossed me away to the lords and— and— his knight, the Lord Commander— he had approached me in the most terrifying manner and had warned me of my intentions for the King and Queen.”
The suggestion of her pained voice made you more anxious.
“James questioned you? Did he mention what he knew?”
“No! It was only a warning, he did not say why and I had told him that I had no such ill intentions, but— but I don’t think he listened. I’m— I’m terrified, your grace! If he knows then he will kill me and I do not want this end! You must protect me!”
“Leila, do not worry. You will not die, you have my word.”
“But— he knows! They know and they want to get rid of me!”
“No, they do not know. They only suspect. If they knew you would have been beheaded in an instant and I would have been charged for treason already. But it is not so— however, we must be careful now, they have caught wind of our talks, at least a doubt of it,” you said with dejection.
James and Steve’s suspicion only meant that your hands were tied in a dangerously tight knot. But James had never addressed you with this issue and that made you wonder if he was giving you the opportunity to salvage yourself from the deep waters of trouble.
“But, how? How did they come to know?” You pondered.
“I do not know. I did nothing to make him doubt me, I was always obedient— but I do not want to die your grace. Forgive me for not being the worth I promised you to be, but I’m helpless and I need you to protect me!”
You placed a hand over your chest and took a deep breath. Everything seemed to be falling apart one by one and you found it difficult to remain calm in the middle of the chaos.
“I will not force you to endanger yourself for me, Leila. I am uncertain of my future, but I will do my best to not let any harm come to you. I shall do what I can to have you serve me along with Anya and Elia again. But first, you must let me know where to find him?”
Leila nodded warily at you.
“He was at the chambers given to Lady Maria. It is at the East end of the castle where the other noble guests have their stay as well. Below the top of the tower. Your Kingsguard must know, but they are not telling you.”
“Ah, I see, he has turned them all against me, hasn’t he?”
“It is not safe for us, your grace. I think it would be best to escape.”
“I do not have such liberties, Leila. It seems that I do not have the liberty to do anything.”
You were beginning to see the dark cage that Steve had constructed around you. Only he seemed to have a key to it and you did not know for how long you could resist asking him for it.
“Then what will you do?”
“I do not know…negotiate, perhaps?”
“You should not have gone against his wishes and angered him,” Leila said.
“I would have hated myself if I didn’t,” you replied.
You were aware of the destruction that you had caused yourself, but you could never bring yourself to let him bask in his glory at the cost of your downfall. There had to be some punishment in his victory.
***
The sound of moans and shrill cries echoed in the halls of the east end of the castle. The torches on the walls illuminated the dark corners and ends, and their noises guided you to the chamber that you needed to find.
You were not prepared to face him or his blatant insulting infidelity, but you had to see it for yourself. You wanted to confront him and show him your disapproval. You wanted to disrupt anything that he enjoyed.
James stood in front of a door in his armour along with another Kingsguard, making it further clear to you where your destination was.
“Do not get in my way,” you warned him as you stormed past him to open the wooden door.
Before you another revolting scene unfolded. Steve had his naked behind towards you while the ladies lay on the bed under his mercy. There were two handmaidens standing in the nude beside them holding fruits and jugs in their hands.
One of them gasped as she saw you enter. Lady Maria sat upright on the bed and you saw her face over Steve’s shoulder. Sharon peeked at you from behind them. Steve stopped and turned to see what had disturbed them all.
You met his gaze and then turned to the ladies. Sharon seemed unwell. Her eyes were red and wet. Her hair was unkempt and the golden strands stuck to her cheeks. You pitied her.
“What is the meaning of this? Who allowed you to come here?” Steve shouted.
“I did. I’ve come to collect Sharon,” you looked at the girl, “my dear, your aunt calls for you. She worries. You must return.”
Her worried eyes darted at Steve, at you and then at the bed.
“Do not fear him. He will not strike you down,” you assured her.
She appeared uncertain as she pulled her discarded gown to her exposed bosom. She continued to look at Steve for his permission. You were saddened to think what he could have done to inspire such fear in the young girl’s heart.
“Go on, now or I will have to throw you out,” you said in a playful tone.
Steve did not protest you nor did he stop Sharon as she climbed out of the bed on trembling legs. She did not wait to put on the gown and decided to run with it bunched on her front instead. Fortunately, Steve did not cause any disruption.
Everyone stared at her in silence as she left the chamber in a hurry.
You shifted your attention to Steve once again.
“What a charming and respectable king you are, Steve, father would be disgusted in you and who wouldn’t be in a son like you?” You berated him.
“The father of a bastard? I am only following his example,” he responded.
His cockiness was aggravating.
“By holding these poor ladies captive? Because why else would they stay with you?”
“You should leave,” he said sternly.
“I will. But first I must tell Lady Maria that she should prepare for her departure from Missouri by the evening, for her own sake.”
“You have no power to give commands,” Steve argued.
You struggled to maintain composure at his rising wrath.
“As Queen, I should look after my people, one of us has to.”
“I do not want to leave!” Maria objected.
She stood up and wrapped herself on Steve’s back, putting her arms around his chest. Steve smirked at you.
Though you were disgruntled beyond your comprehension, you had no determination to give her a scolding nor did you wish to stand there and bask in their filth.
“You will make her leave, Steve,” you said in conclusion, hoping that he would take the right decision.
Steve bellowed a flurry of raged words that questioned your authority to take such decisions and make orders that he, as King, did not agree with. But you did not wish to listen to him. You hurried out of the bedchamber with the same fury that you had entered it with. The clinks of the Kingsguard’s metal boots came after you.
“I want you both to aid Lady Maria in her departure. Make it certain that she leaves the castle by the evening.”
“But it is not in our right to disobey the King,” they argued.
“Not the Queen either I presume,” your enraged voice resonated across the stone walls, “If needed I shall get your Lord Commander to give the order, it is your duty to protect the interest of the royal marriage as well.”
The Kingsguard fell silent, but they did not convey their acceptance of your command. You squeezed your knuckles into your palms. Your will to yell at them had weakened. Tackling Steve was an exhausting task.
Leila came close to you as you made your way to your chambers.
“What should we do now, your grace?” She whispered.
You sighed in exasperation at her question and more at your lack of an answer to it. There were not many doors open for you. Steve could not be removed from his position of power, not even by death as they had frightened Leila enough to crush the fleeting bravery that she had shown to you before. It had been a delusional fantasy, to begin with as well, only an imaginary goal to bring you some satisfaction, which to you fear, could bring real danger to you. If they truly did have any suspicions regarding your conversations with Leila then your place as his Queen could be more at threat than you had previously assumed.
Your throat tightened and your body became frail as you were painfully confronted with your vulnerability and helplessness.
“There is nothing for us to do, Leila,” you replied bitterly.
Nothing except for surrender. You were too full of pride to do that and admit your defeat. But you could see that it would lead to your own demise and Jaime’s too, perhaps.
You ground your teeth together and shook your head. You did not want to think about bending to Steve’s demands even though it was emerging to be the only path of safety for you.
“I only wish to be with Jaime for now,” you said to Leila and to yourself.
The Kingsuards walking alongside you exchanged positions with the ones standing guard at the gates of your chambers while you went inside. Ser Franklin and Ser William remained at the entrance of your bedchamber. You could hear the coos and laughter of your son from beyond the door and it brought some warmth to your heart.
You spotted Anya sitting by the long table as you approached the bedchamber. She jumped up at your sight.
“Your grace!” She made you pause on your steps. “Oh— you’ve found her.”
“Yes, and she would like to have a bath if you could fetch her one, Anya.”
“Yes, your grace,” she said.
The wooden gates of the chambers flung upon with a loud bang, startling you all at once. You spun around to watch a seething Steve stomp inside with his face glowering in anger. His appearance was shabby. His hair stuck to his forehead. He wore an open shift shirt, loosely knotted breeches and upon his shoulders was an unbuttoned tunic. He had dressed in haste and for what, you did not wish to know.
“No, I will not allow you to act in this manner with me,” he grunted while pointing a finger at you, “I will not tolerate your insolence, your brazen rudeness towards me anymore. You have no place to object in my affairs with other women!”
“I most certainly do!” You reverted swiftly.
Blood rushed in your tired veins as you faced him with boldness.
“I am your Queen, I shall not abide by your disgraceful proclivities!”
Steve laughed. “And this is why I did not want to bring you here, I had warned you and yet here you are, stubborn as always, ruining everything!”
“What am I ruining? I’m only doing what is right. It is quite improper for you to bed those ladies, perhaps against their will as well from what I saw. Their family worries for them. Your actions would make them lose their loyalty to you.”
“That is not your concern. And wouldn’t you like it too? See me fall out of favour? Were you not eager to see me sleep with other women?” He retorted.
“Not with them! These women, they insult me and your son. You may have no shame but I will not allow you to humiliate me and give them the pleasure to do so as well.”
“Oh,” Steve chuckled and put his hands on his hips.
The smugness on his face was frustrating and you wished to punch his jaw.
“So,” Steve lingered towards you, his height enabled him to look down on you to your dissatisfaction, “it is a matter of your pride and honour then. Perhaps, you would have preferred me to take the ladies into my bed at night, when the castle sleeps and pay them coin to keep it a secret from others, yes?”
You stared at him through puzzled eyes as you failed to find yourself disagreeing with his proposition. That would truly have been favourable to you. Steve would have not bothered you with his hunger and there would not have been a mockery of you. But Steve wanted that to happen.
“Why should I?” His murky blue eyes peered into yours as you glared at him, grimacing at his taunt. He was worse than the Steve you had known. He seemed to be keen on disrespecting you and distancing himself from the wicked bond he had formed with you.
“Lay with whores if you must, Steve,” you grunted through your teeth, “but do not disrespect me in this manner.”
“Why not? You wanted me to do this and I will not heed to each of your desires. I had given you a chance to win my loyalty and dedication, but you had tossed it away. You have failed to return your gratitude, for making you the Queen, to me.”
“So that is what you want? My unbound submission for your loyalty? Would that put an end to your destructive pettiness?”
Steve sneered at you.
“Oh, you would bow to me now, sister?” He asked in amusement.
You exhaled and pursed your lips, looking away from him as you mustered the strength to utter the words of resignation.
“I would like to do what I can to stop this madness before it gets worse,” you mumbled.
The stench of his sweat laced body violated your senses as he hovered near you. He bent his head and searched for your gaze as you tried to avoid his.
“And what will you do?”
You blinked at him and met his eyes.
“What do you want me to do?”
Steve grinned. “You know what I desire, yet you continue to act so aloof and prideful.”
A shudder of repulsion ran through your body at the thought of wilfully surrendering yourself to Steve for his assault. His mocking tone and need to make you fulfil his wants without his admission of them were more disturbing.
Even as you considered meeting his demands, you found it difficult to give him peaceful compliance.
“There are many things that you desire, Steve, many I have already given to you. Therefore, I would like you to enlighten me with what new tastes and desires that you have acquired which you seek of me,” you jibed.
“You expect it would be as easy as bending over for me and letting me have my way with you, don’t you?” He asked.
Nothing about it seemed easy to you and yet his questioning made you fear the worst.
“You expect to win my loyalty by doing what a whore does and what those ladies have been doing for me already? You expect me to stop indulging in them…just for that?”
He had you at a loss for words again. What more could you do for him? You had given him your body, you had given him your dignity, you had given him your blood, your tears and cries, and you had given him yourself in marriage and a son from your womb. What more had you left to give?
“Then—then…put forth your demand.”
Your voice shook and your eyes watered as you expected him to unveil a demand so horrible, cruel and degrading that it would be beyond your imagination and your ability to fulfil it.
Steve scoffed. “I would have, but now I do not believe I want to…”
You gaped at him in surprise. “What?”
Steve shook his head as he looked at you with disappointment. He moved back towards the gates.
“I tire of you and your antics,” he said.
Your heart became heavy and your throat tightened as you listened to the finality of his statement, the finality with which he regarded you. You were struck with a frenzied sense of urgency to stop him, to make him see that he was not doing what was right.
“So what? What—what do you intend to do? Replace me? With those vile women?”
Steve looked at you blankly and turned to the door without giving you an answer.
“And what about your son?” You yelled at him. “Will you let him be without his mother?”
He stopped at the threshold of the chambers. Placing a hand on the wood, he glanced at you over his shoulder.
“Do not worry for Jaime, he is my son. I was raised in the absence of my mother, and yet I have thrived despite it.”
His words hit your heart like stones. Tears blurred your vision as you watched him leave and the gates close behind him. He left without saying anything more and you had nothing left to say to him either.
Steve had hurt you in many ways, but the ache in your chest was new. Your fists clenched at your sides and your lungs filled with raging breaths. Your body vibrated on the ground you stood on as you cursed him and his audacity to threaten you with such offensive statements. You knew that he was a heartless man, but you were taken aback by how endlessly cruel he was capable of being to his own family.
Tears spilt down your cheeks as you closed your eyes and Steve’s blood-covered dead body flashed before them. If only you could do that.
“How dare he?” You growled.
“Perhaps— perhaps, you shouldn’t fight with him anymore, your grace,” Leila intervened, “for your son’s sake.”
You smirked at Leila. “He doesn’t want that, not anymore. It seems I have damned myself beyond redemption.”
You chuckled at yourself and your fate. After enduring all the pain that he had given to you in his attempt to make you compliant to him, he rejected your submission when you had finally offered it to him. You had pushed him this far. You could only laugh at yourself.
“No, there must be some way. He must have only said all this in anger.”
“He might have…but if he wants me to grovel at his feet while he lays with other women, then he is a fool.”
He had humiliated you enough. You had to return at least a fraction of it to him in some way. Steve had replenished the boiling rage in your blood.
“But—but what if he makes good on his words?”
You shrugged your shoulders. You took a calming breath and turned to return to your bedchamber.
“Then he would do it with good reason.”
Steve should not have told you that you were going to lose everything.
You return to your hometown after dropping out of university. If the shame of it wasn’t bad enough, you are forced to comfront old mistakes and a persistent stalker.
Fandoms: MCU, Captain America
Genre: Mostly suspense, some drama, horror and smut.
Ships: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 2k
Chapter Warnings: Nothing in particular
Series Warnings: Smut, dubcon, sweat, violence, gore, body horror, minor character death.
An old work I’m finally getting around to finishing and posting. Decide to finally get done with it thanks to @searchforanotherway‘s pep talk. It’ll be posted in 5 parts. Kinda experimental.
You had missed summers back home.
Nah. Who were you kidding? You had never liked the heat, and your three year stint in Chicago had spoiled you. Now home felt more like hell.
“You gotta fix your AC, Milton,” you told the man bagging your groceries as you wiped a bead of sweat from the back of your neck.
“Don’t I know,” he snorted and pointed at his dewy forehead “I called a guy couple days ago. Never showed up.”
“You can’t trust electricians from outta town when they’ve got no competition. They get complacent, you know? If you don’t know how to fix it, I can ask dad to come take a look. He’ll do it for cheap.”
“You sure? Can he still do that with-”
“He can still climb a few steps.”
“Alright, then,” he smiled “he can come in whenever we’re open.”
We. Milton had been the only one manning the store since his wife went missing nearly three years ago, but he still said we.
“I’ll tell him. Now pack up my shit; If I have to stay another minute I’m getting in the ice machine.” It wasn’t just the heat that had you impatient. At this time of day, anyone could walk in, anyone you didn’t want to see.
He chortled, but it was muffled by the sound of the door being opened up to its hinges and the rattle of the glass in the storefront windows. You turned to look at who had entered and had to resist your urge to grimace. Steve was the second to last person you wanted to meet, but then again, none in town ever wanted to meet Steve.
Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader, Dark!Steve x Other Characters
Warnings: Incest, cheating, a noncon scene, minor violence, humiliation, verbal abuse. 18+ only. Minors DNI
Summary: This is a story set in a GoT-themed scenario, where the reader and Steve are half-siblings, and children of the Warden of Brooklyn (South). You both hate each other and try to compete with each other until one of you rises above the other.
A/n: The story is available on my Ao3, here’s the link.
Chapter 27
The grand hall of the castle was fragrant with the aroma of the deliciously cooked food and spices, the scent of wine and ale, and the hint of the flowery perfumes worn by the women. The sound of music and the chatter of the people echoed within the walls and pinched your ears. While the lords and ladies talked and laughed amongst themselves, Steve and you sat indifferent to each other, maintaining a distance between the large, bejewelled chairs that had been arranged for you up on the dais.
You stared blankly at the people dancing on the stone floor in front of you while Steve chose to converse with Lord Clinton who sat to his left. Lady Lila was not allowed to sit with her groom, their wedding was a few days away yet, the young pair could not keep their eyes away from each other. They exchanged grins and lust-filled gazes across their tables. Her groom, Lord Damon was a handsome young man with a chiselled jaw and long dark curls that framed his face beautifully.
His house had served as one of the vassals to the Parkers but had surrendered to Steve’s army once they were conquered and integrated into the south. The marriage would allow them to acquire the liege at Queens with Lord Clinton ensuring that his daughter would be the Lady of the emerging stronghold. And she was happy about it as much as her groom was. It was almost envious how their love seemed to bloom out of a strictly political alliance. Not every lady could enjoy that.
You huffed and submerged your loneliness with the help of wine. Even then you could not allow yourself to drown yourself in the intoxicating liquid ever since you became a mother. You had to be aware of your sufferings.
You had no one to talk to except the handmaidens that waited behind you to see to your needs. Elia and Anya along with Ser William, Ser Franklin and two other Kingsguard were tasked to protect the Prince. Leila could have been your friend but she was nowhere to be seen. The handmaiden was brought to Missouri but had not graced you with her presence even once which made you concerned for her safety.
As the festivities of the feast continued, Lady Margaret’s niece, the bothersome and ill-mannered girl Sharon strutted towards your table with the skirt of her beige gown in her hands and a wide smile on her face.
“My King,” she referred to Steve as she lowered herself in a curtsy.
“My Queen.” You glared at her audacity as she looked at you.
“It is an honour to be in your presence, your grace,” she said to Steve.
He leaned forward with his elbow on the table and ran his eyes over the girl’s supple body. He smiled at her.
“I am glad to honour you, Lady…”
“Sharon! My name is Sharon. I’m Lady Margaret Carter’s niece.”
“Oh, it seems your family has gifted us the most beautiful women in our lands,” Steve remarked flirtatiously as he took a glance at Lady Margaret.
“I’m humbled, your grace,” she giggled.
“Rightfully so, tell me, young lady, do you only wish to pay your respect to your King or do you wish to ask for something?”
The playful curiosity in Steve’s voice and the smile on his face troubled you. It was as if Sharon had bloomed a joy in his dying soul. He seldom was as sweet to anyone, not unless the situation required him to be so. Sharon was far from a noblewoman who could have any power in the kingdom.
“You have interpreted my wish correctly, your grace! If I may ask, could you please be so kind to share a dance with me, your grace? I know I am only a small lady, but I would be blessed by heavens if you do me the honour–”
“Ladies only have to be beautiful, small or big is not a matter of concern. And you are a sight, Sharon. Well, then, I cannot be a cruel king…”
Sharon blushed at his compliment. You scowled at Steve as he stood up from his chair and stepped down from the pedestal to take her hand. He looked over his shoulder to see your face but you quickly covered it with the goblet of wine, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the discontent on your face.
Steve spun Sharon around himself as he took her to the centre of the hall. All eyes were on them. The people were in awe. They admired them, they gasped and smiled. They looked at you with petty, whispering behind their hands as they joked and mused at your humiliation.
Any wife would have been insulted if her husband took another, younger maiden for a twirl instead of her. Steve had not even offered you that proposal and all of them could see that you were not a woman of interest to him.
You squeezed the goblet between your fingers as you shifted uncomfortably on the seat. The food and the wine turned bitter in your mouth. Your body was alight with the indignity he brought upon you, yet you could not express your fury at him for he had no empathy in his heart for you.
From the table on the left, another lady, dressed in dark green, pranced down to the dancing pair. Your patience ran thin as she touched Steve’s arm and put a stop to their spins. They exchanged some words before the lady took Sharon’s place in his arms.
You narrowed your eyes as you stretched forward on your seat and noticed the taunting smile that belonged to Lady Maria. She rubbed her hands on his arms and spoke words unknown into his ear while he spanned the curves of her hips with his palms. Worse came to worst as they twisted around and stopped in a position from where Maria could look straight at you with her arrogant eyes.
She grinned and placed a rosy kiss on Steve’s jaw. She revelled in her antagonization of you and the subsequent disproval of your claim for Steve’s unbound love for you. Your eyes stung and your cheeks burned while your body vibrated with agony. Slamming the goblet down on the table, you wasted no time in standing up and turning to the Kingsguard.
“I wish to return to my chambers,” you announced and stomped off of the dais and out the gates of the grand hall.
Words of rumour and mockery followed your walk but you could not spare them a response. The loud clang of Kingsuard’s armour along with their heavy steps pursued your trail as you sprinted like the wind away from the grand hall, from the enemies and your cruel brother.
Tears spilt freely from your eyes by the time you reached the solar located on the topmost section of the castle. Ser Franklin and Ser William gave you puzzled stares as you appeared in front of them.
“Stop,” Ser James' voice came from behind you.
You halted at the doors of the bedchamber and turned towards the man with a grimace.
“What are you doing here?”
He was undeterred by the evident discomfort in your voice as he walked forth and took off his visor. You tightened your knuckles in anticipation that he would aggravate you more by adding salt to your wounds.
“Leave us be,” he commanded his men.
The Kingsguard shuffled out of the solar quickly and left you alone with their Lord Commander. You tutted at him.
“Leave me be, Ser. I have not the patience to hear your worthless words of advice.”
He frowned as he towered over you.
“Do not ignore this or do you enjoy it? Are you entertained in your humiliation?” James scolded as if you were a child who could not learn.
“Yes, yes! Point your fingers at me, James! Not at your best friend!” You protested while walking away from him. “Tell me to make the sacrifices, to beg for his mercy and say nothing to him about how he should treat his wife, the mother of his child….yes– accuse me of the wrongdoing because this all has been a making of mine, hasn’t it?”
You heaved and your blood boiled as you spewed the rant at him. James mission to malleate you into a submissive, good little wife for Steve was most annoying and you were at your wit's end with him constantly putting the blame as well as the responsibility to improve the circumstances on you.
James sighed. He was determined to argue with you but you shushed him by raising the palm of your hand.
“I tire of your persuasion. I understand that you do his bidding, but do not come to me and deceive me into believing that you have any care for my or my son’s well-being because if you did… you would be talking to him, stopping him, not me!”
“I’m only here because I care and worry for you. I am not here to torment you,” he stubbornly claimed.
You scoffed and shook your head.
“He is stubborn you know that…and words do not sway him. Your actions have. This is what you wanted, this is what you have pushed him towards…do you not see that you could put this to an end if you were willing to swallow your pride?”
“Why should I?”
James bit back his next words and stared at you with disappointment.
“If you want to stand helpless in all of this— then I cannot help you,” he said with resignation.
“If I believed that you could be of any help to me, Ser James, I would have asked you myself. But you are his minion. So go and protect your infallible king. Perhaps you can give him a hand in making them more compliant as you once did with me,” your voice broke with each word even as you forced yourself to be strong.
James stood speechless before you and pleaded with his eyes for you to hear his message. You despised the way he pitied you and then attempted to be a silent helper of yours.
With a last glace of disgust, you turned to the bedchamber and entered it to be with your son. His laughter soothed your ears as you saw Elia playing with him on the bed. You wiped the tears on your face with your hands and approached them.
“Your grace, is the feast over so soon?” Anya asked.
She examined your face from near the window. You decided not to answer her and looked at Elia instead.
“When did he wake?”
“Soon after you left,” Elia informed you.
She picked up the infant and brought him to you. You engulfed him in your arms and he gave you a wide smile as he tried to touch your face with his soft hands.
“Did the feast go well, your grace?”
“Yes,” you answered stiffly.
You rocked Jaime in your arms and went to the bed to sit on it.
“You returned sooner than we had expected,” Anya said from behind.
Her poking was vexing but you contained the urge to let out your frustration on the handmaiden. Their intentions were well and yet, they were not the women you could share your heart with. They could not provide you with any solace. Steve had stolen the only handmaiden who had offered you the slightest imitation of aid.
You wished to talk to her if only could find her. You were unaware of what had become of her in Steve’s hands and that was a perturbing issue.
“Elia, Anya, would you be able to find Leila for me? I haven’t heard of her since we stepped foot here and I worry for her.”
“I can inquire with the other handmaidens,” Anya volunteered.
You nodded and inhaled a deep breath to calm yourself. You kissed Jaime’s head and wondered if it was too late to save yourself and him from Steve’s crumbling loyalty.
***
Maria winced as he squeezed her flesh with his hands. Her words were noise to his ears as his eyes pointedly followed the woman who was supposed to be his Queen, his wife, exit the grand hall without a spare glance at him. He clenched his jaw, agitated by her decision to leave instead of pushing away the women and asserting herself on him. But this was what she had wanted to happen.
“Your grace!” The lady patted his shoulder to call his attention.
He broke himself free from his hurtful thoughts and looked at the promiscuous woman before him who was keen on seducing him.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you something, your grace?”
“What would that be?”
“If you have had enough of the feast and the dancing, I would love to take you somewhere else and show you other ways in which I can entertain you.”
Steve narrowed his eyes at the blatant display of her wantonness.
“And I’m not alone in my desire for you, my king. Sharon is quite eager too. You seem upset. Perhaps, we can help you with it.”
Steve found Sharon standing near the gates of the grand hall, watching him and Sharon with a provocative grin. She licked her lips and jutted out her chest to present her luring bosom to him.
They were attractive women, seemingly untouched, they could have stoked any man’s arousal in the hall. As the king, Steve could have any woman he wanted in his land and the noble ladies were tempting fruits for him to bite into.
His sister knew of this. He had hoped that she would have stopped him before he could bed any of them, but her choice was to retire to her bedchamber and find solace in his absence.
She irked him beyond his comprehension and it fueled his desire to have his way with the noblewomen even if it led to his Queen’s disgrace. Her will would be her own undoing.
Steve agreed to Maria’s offer and let the ladies lead him to their chambers on the west side of the castle. The Kingsguard surrounded them to ascertain his safety.
The women latched on to his front and back the moment they entered the small bedchamber. Candles were already lighted in the chamber leading Steve to believe that they had intended to bring him there since before the feast. They giggled and whispered promises of how they would please him. His cock stirred in his breeches despite his lack of attention as Sharon rubbed his crotch with her delicate palm.
Maria peppered kisses on his neck and shoulders as she unbuttoned his tunic and pulled the clothes off his torso. Sharon opened the knots of his breeches to dip her hand in and cup him whole with her hand. His breaths became shallow as her fondling made his cock harder and harder.
She ran her spare hand across his bare chest and licked and kissed a trail from his midriff to his jaw. Steve threaded his fingers through her hair as she reached for his lips. He pulled her head back, making her arch her neck. Sharon frowned at her halted attempt to capture his mouth but that was not a privilege meant for them.
“You are rather bold for a maiden, girl,” Steve insinuated. “Virtuous young ladies are supposed to be modest and timid.”
Sharon squirmed, appearing apprehensive by his suggestion. “I’m only eager to please my king, your grace. Reward you for your troubles and sacrifices that you have made for the south.”
“You would reward me, young lady?” Steve scoffed.
“If you would allow me to,” Sharon traced the skin of his bottom lip with her nimble fingers, “I promise to take away the worries given to you by your wife, you will not want for her again.”
Maria snickered in affirmation and whispered a yes in his ear.
Steve’s amusement withered and turned into a scowl on his face.
“You dare speak of my wife here and in that fashion?” He snarled.
Any fear that was not in her before had started to take roots in Sharon’s heart. She gasped as she felt the burn of Steve’s tightened grip on her scalp. Maria rushed to her side and put her hands over his.
“Your grace! She does not mean to insult her, she is only eager to please you!” Maria said.
Steve released Sharon from his harsh hold and sneered at both of them
“You assume that you can contest with my wife, your Queen?”
“No– no, I–” Sharon stuttered.
“What gives you the courage to speak so of your Queen in front of the King nonetheless?” He demanded.
The women shuddered at his loud voice and his reddening face. Sharon clung to Maria in terror and desperation.
“I– forgive me, your grace,” Sharon pleaded, “I swear to the gods– if you wish me to leave.”
“No. You will stay.” The girl squealed as Steve grabbed her elbow and ripped her away from Maria. “I cannot be certain if you are a maiden or not, Sharon, but I think you play the part of a whore well and so you will now that you have presented yourself to me. Take off your clothes and lay on the bed.”
Steve threw her towards the bed and she braced her fall with her hands. Her jaw quivered as her frightened eyes asked for help from her friend and begged for mercy from him.
“Now!” Steve growled at her.
Sharon jolted and let out a faint cry. Her enthusiasm turned into reluctance as she unlaced the ties of her gown with trembling fingers.
“And you Lady Maria,” Steve returned to the other offensive woman. “You’ve corrupted her innocence, haven’t you?
She appeared disturbed but held her ground with more confidence than Sharon. Steve did not appreciate that. Her audacity was to be punished as well.
“Perhaps if you were not as much of a harlot that you are, you would have found a man to marry you,” he spat at her.
Maria arched a brow at him.
“From what I hear, the Starks refused her hand because she was much the same as me. Yet, that whore is your wife now,” she reverted in a calm yet derisive tone.
Steve struck her face with the back of his hand. She yelped in pain as she fell on the floor. Sharon shrieked aloud on the bed.
“That was my generosity for you, Maria. Speak of her again and I will make you suffer.”
Even as she held her burning cheek, Maria glared at him from below. But she was wise to not utter any more stupid words to him as she uprighted herself on her knees.
“Now be if use with and prepare me with your mouth,” he barked at her.
***
Heat and the overwhelming odour of sweat and musk greeted Steve as he opened his eyes to the morning light. A dull ache weighed down his head as he came to be. A sense of filth crawled on his skin and he wanted to get rid of it as fast as he could.
Steve twisted and pushed his neck up only to find that he was covered by the two ladies who were bedded by him the night before. Lady Maria had her head and a hand placed on his chest as if she were sleeping with a lover. Sharon had her back to him, she had grown repulsive of his touch the more he had introduced her to it, but her temple was resting on his forearm as she slept.
Their naked bodies were no longer inviting to his carnal desires. He had not intended to fall asleep sharing a bed with them either, but they acted as a good medium for him to release his frustrations and had tired him enough by the end that he struggled to remember why he had stayed and not returned to his sister.
Steve groaned and pulled himself upright with a jerk, letting the women fall on the bed without his support. He hurried out of the bed, eager to find a bath and a change of clothes to remove their scent from himself.
Maria stirred awake on the bed as he put on his breeches and collected the rest of his garments.
“Your grace,” she mumbled tiredly, “you are awake. May I offer you something or call a handmaiden?”
He raised his brows at her, amused by her persistence to appear meek and obedient to him despite the degradation he had subjected her to. His sister would have desired his blood for less.
She slipped out of the bed and approached him, stretching her hands to help him put his undershirt on. It was a sweet gesture but not one that he wanted from the likes of her. He pulled away and finished the task himself.
“If you would like I can prepare a bath for you in the pools or here,” she offered in a honeyed voice.
Steve sighed. Maria disgusted him but his Queen could certainly learn some etiquettes from her.
“Only do what is asked of you, Maria, not more,” he chided her.
She pursed her lips and lowered her eyes in defeat. Steve decided to carry the rest of his clothes in his hands and walked out of the chamber.
The silver cloaked men matched his pace as he rushed towards the other end of the castle. He craved a bath and some ale to wipe off the memories of his night with the ladies that had left a strange sickness in his stomach. His sister had been indifferent to his affairs with the other women, but she must not have taken kindly to his choice of bedding the noble ladies. Perhaps she would fight with him about it and ask him to put an end to it all or so he wished. That would be an exhausting yet needful conversation.
The doors of their chambers opened to the sight of his sister dressed for the day in a simple yellow gown. She had their son in her hands and her handmaidens behind her. They appeared to be on their way out of the solar.
Steve blocked their path as the venom in her questioning glare burned his skin. He braced himself for a storm of curses and prepared himself to yell at her for being the one to blame for his straying faith.
“Would you step out of my way?”
It was all that she had to say to him.
He was stunned. Men expected to be kissed by their wives in the mornings or slapped if they had engaged in infidelity. To her, that was not her duty. She only shook her head, released an exasperated breath and circled around him to escape his presence.
Steve was a fool to believe that she could behave any differently. He was a fool to have not thoroughly savoured the company of the ladies because of her. He should have indulged in them as a king had the right to. He vowed to correct that mistake in the coming days.
Steve exhaled as he sat on a seat beside the long table in the solar. He ordered a servant to prepare his bath as he poured himself a goblet of ale from the jug on the table.
He drank the liquid as he thought of the ladies and whores present in the castle ground who were yet to be defiled by him. There were many he could take to his bed and a few who he had to respect in order to offend the Houses and the lords. But Steve failed to invoke even a hint of excitement or arousal in himself from the idea of taking them.
Steve threw the goblet on the floor and grunted in frustration. This was not the life of a king.
Warnings: This story is darker than what is actually addressed in the summary. Additional tags will not be added to add shock value and suspense to the story; hence, I will ‘choose not to use archive warnings’. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with noncon content OR any form of violence. This fic is not for the light-hearted. I will refer any complaints about this story to the warning here.
Series Synopsis: You’re back in college to finish getting your master’s degree. On your second year to your degree, you enter a new class unaware that you’re sitting next to the Avenger, Captain America. Though shocked and bewildered, you and Steve Rogers spend the terms as close classmates and friends.
He asks you out, and the two of you start what initially hopes to be a loving relationship. Unfortunately, you suddenly become aware of Steve’s changing behavior, along with some other horrid secrets and realizations. You break it off with him, intent on getting out of a rabbit hole before you finally sink in. So why did you have to find out now from today’s viral interview with Captain America that you two were getting married.
Run… Run now before he catches you. Your husband-to-be is waiting for his bride…
Warnings: This story is darker than what is actually addressed in the summary. Additional tags will not be added to add shock value and suspense to the story; hence, I will ‘choose not to use archive warnings’. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with noncon content OR any form of violence. This fic is not for the light-hearted. I will refer any complaints about this story to the warning here.
Series Synopsis: You’re back in college to finish getting your master’s degree. On your second year to your degree, you enter a new class unaware that you’re sitting next to the Avenger, Captain America. Though shocked and bewildered, you and Steve Rogers spend the terms as close classmates and friends.
He asks you out, and the two of you start what initially hopes to be a loving relationship. Unfortunately, you suddenly become aware of Steve’s changing behavior, along with some other horrid secrets and realizations. You break it off with him, intent on getting out of a rabbit hole before you finally sink in. So why did you have to find out now from today’s viral interview with Captain America that you two were getting married.
Run… Run now before he catches you. Your husband-to-be is waiting for his bride…
Chapter Summary: Present day; you start the first day of the term… Late…
Chapter Length: 3,676 words
Author’s Note: Hello all! I’m back (temporarily) from my hiatus. I recently been having a lot on my plate, and all that’s been keeping me going is A Thousand Suns!Steve (even though you guys barely know him like I do… But yeah, I wanted to post the first chapter as a 2-year anniversary to when I first posted the prologue.
I have a couple more notes for everyone at the bottom, but for now, I hope you all enjoy!! We’re finally getting the gears turning!!
Fucking Christ…
Your legs were burning in the pits of hell, and you weren’t even jogging yet.
A sigh passed your lips as you picked up pace, nearly gliding on your feet to get to your next class. Other students passed you through the campus fields, eyes glued to their phones with earbuds plugging their ears.
You glanced at a couple of them before unslinging your drawstring handbag from your shoulder and pulling out your own earbuds.
Yeah, that’s a good idea.
You plucked the wireless buds from their case and popped them into your ears, tucking the case into your bag’s pocket and securing the pleather handbag back to your shoulder. You immediately followed by pulling out your phone and shuffling your playlist in hopes that a moment of music could soothe your nerves.
Your truck—your stupid fucking truck just had to stall again today. You were right on schedule for class until you started up the rundown vehicle, unable to get the engine running for a good several minutes.
You ran straight for the bus after that, too overwhelmed by the time to think about calling an Uber.
You could still make it, you reasoned with yourself, glancing across the campus to one of the clock towers at the school. You froze mid-step…
Pairings: Soft!Dark Steve x (f)Reader, Soft!Dark Johnny Storm
Summary: After the Snap was corrected- Steve and the Avengers retired and purchased several casinos along the Vegas Strip, including the one you work in. Steve has you and is enjoying a new chapter in life- until Johnny wants to buy in on the dream.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, dub/con, public sex, finger fucking, blowjobs (f/m and m/m), obsession, manipulation, praise kink, dirty talk, Snap/Blip descriptions
Word Count: 6.5k
a/n: entry for Happy Hoeliday 2021 Challenge. Thank you for hosting this challenge @stargazingfangirl18 @navybrat817 @drabblewithfrannybarnes finding out what prompts everyone had was a lot of fun. Thank you for sharing your time and words with everyone. Dividers done by @firefly-graphics Check out their work🧡
@threeminutesoflife masterlist
a/n: Summary:
Avengers were never on the run and the figure heads of the UN were notified about the possibility of an attack- however, the type of danger was ultimately unknown.
US leaders decided to enlist additional teams- Fantastic Four, X-men as private security to watch over officials from heavily populated states (and extremely wealthy citizens) in case an attack occurs.
Nevada’s Governor is promoting Vegas casino tourism the week Steve and the team head to Wakanda. With Johnny Storm being assigned to watch over the NV Governor, Steve asks him to change the filming location to the casino where you work.
Johnny agrees to keep you close during the Governor’s Vegas trip, but he wants a favor from Steve in return
When the Snap’s repercussions arrived on the Vegas Strip, it was as chaotic as the location.
Particles of used-to-be people feathered over concrete and rooftops, leaving patches of intersections darker, dustier. Remnants of ziplining tourists floated down from their harnesses, canopying the streets below. Cars crashed, motorcycles flipped, strollers strolled themselves.
However, when The Snap swept through the casino, the dismantling of life was more peaceful.
It may have been the mix of distractions- the tables, buffets, liquor, and shows- a dimly lit environment delaying knowledge of friends disappearing right beside you.
Outside, the attacks hit randomly. But inside, the destruction moved like a wave pool- mechanical and seamless. The Blip started at one end and finished in another, an unforgivable strength easily drowning half the occupants.
