Doing Time 11
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.
Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You long for normalcy. You long for your apartment to be your own. Your body too. You long for the days that you thought were lonely, that now you see we're peaceful.
You grasp onto that routine as you go through the motions. You portion out the container of steamed rice and chicken. Boring, predictable. You pop the lids on each and slide them into the fridge.
The shadows of your old life melds with his. Steve nears and brushes his hand up your back, his other moving something over the counter. He scoops up your ring and shows it in his palm. He clucks.
"I had to wash my hands," you explain.
He draws back and grabs your hand, sliding the band on with a smirk. He brushes his thumb over the stones and hums. "Looks better on."
"I know. Sorry." The fridge shuts on its own. "I was just... distracted."
"Uh huh." He clings to your hand and pulls you to face him. He puts your hand on his shoulder as his other moves to your waist. "You sure are, huh?" He stretches his thumb along your lower stomach and pushes into the cushiony flesh. "I'm not. Seems the only thing I can focus on is you, sweetheart."
He steps closer, his hand slinking around your back and crawling down to your rear. "What's next, huh?"
"Um." You try not to squirm as you touch his forearm. "I gotta shower and get my clothes ready for tomorrow."
"Mm. Can I watch?" He purrs.
Your cheeks pinch and your lashes flick. The question tingles inside you. You stare at him before you can pluck out and answer.
"If... You want." You push your shoulders up and chew your lip.
"What kinda pajamas you got tonight?" He scoops both hands around your rear. "Not that you'll be needing any."
He chuckles and leans in. You tilt your head up to meet him as he kisses you. He growls as his tongue delves into your mouth. He squeezes your ass until you can't help but push against his stomach.
"Better idea. How about I join ya, huh?" He drawls. "I used to dream of showering alone up in the pen but now it don't seem so bad sharing."
He doesn't let you answer as he kisses you again. He urges you backwards and you drag your feet around his. His touch trails up your sides and he grips you firmly.
"Baby," he parts as he leans his forehead on yours, just at the threshold of the kitchen. "You're too damn sexy."
"Mm, thanks," you eke out.
"You go get that shower started," he winks as he kneads your sides. "I'll be right there."
You don't let your hesitation show. You nod and run your hands down his arms until he lets you go. "Okay."
He reluctantly backs away and you force a smile, turning cautiously and flitting away. You're still tender from what he did in the car. He hasn't given you much of a break either.
You go to the bathroom and reach past the shower curtain to crank the water on. A shiver rolls through you as the pit in your stomach deepens. This man has gone from prisoner to warden in days.
You step back and wait for the water to warm. As steam kisses the air, Steve appears, unbuttoning his shirt. You flinch and check your reflection briefly, your features wrought with dread. Don't let him see that.
You dip your chin down and feel along the hem of your shirt. You turn your back to him as you strip it off. He strokes up your back and you shudder again.
"Mm, you know, all those days in my cot and I never could think anything as good as the real thing," he drones as he steps closer. He presses himself flush to you as he reaches around your front and undoes your fly. "Maybe more skirts..."
"I'll... Find some. Tomorrow." You promise him. "Sorry."
"Nah, don't be sorry," he bows and nuzzles your neck from behind, trailing his hands around and up to pick open the hooks of your bra. "You're perfect, sweetheart."
He pushes the straps down your arms and your bra falls to the tile. He cups your tits in his large hands and bounces them. He nips at your skin and snarls. His thumbs circle your nipples.
"You got more than I need and I'm a greedy man," he intones and kisses along your jaw. He continues to knead your chest as he rubs himself against your ass. "And I'll give you just as much, huh?"
"Mhmm," your voice trembles as it flutters on your tongue. "Y-yes, Steve."
His hands graze down your stomach, fingertips pressing into you, feeling your softness until he reaches your waistline. He hooks his thumbs under your pants and panties and eases them down your hips. He hisses and growls.
"You got the best shape to ya, baby. You know that?"
"Um, thanks..."
"I just can't help but say it, baby. It's just too good." He jerks the fabric down and you wiggle until it falls below your knees. The fabric heaps at your feet. "I'm hurtin' for ya again."
You quiver and lean back into him just to keep from collapsing into the pile of your clothes. He drags his hands to the sides of your ass and taps. "Get in the shower, now." His voice drops dangerously.
You shy away from him, afraid to move too suddenly. You pull back the curtain and slip through. He groans as he shifts behind you. You stand beneath the stream of hot water, glancing over to see his silhouette on the other side of the curtain.
He approaches and you look at the wall. You tense as he steps in behind you. The flow of cool air through the damp heat crawls over you.
His hands scale your back and his fingers curl around one shoulder. He turns you to face him. You stare up at him, shaking as his eyes rove over you. You're still not used to that. The way he looks at you is so intense; so hungry.
"God, sweetheart, I never thought much of fate before..." He backs you up so you're below the faucet, out of the spray. The cool wall radiates at your back. "But I can't help but think we were meant to meet."
He bends and reaches around you. His hands brush along your lower back and over your ass. He purrs as he gropes you again then trails down your thighs.
You yelp as he lifts you. You lean against the wall, bracing it as you whine and wiggle. He puts himself between your legs, pressing them to clamp above his hips. You latch onto his shoulders.
"Please... Put me down," you gasp as the water scatters across his shoulders and back, slaking down his chest. His perfect chest. "I... I can't--"I got you, sweetheart. You gotta trust me." His hands curl hunder your thighs firmly. His grasp on your is firm and unyielding. "You do, don't you?"
"Steve, I just... I don't like being... picked up."
You say it but you don't know if it's true. No one ever did that before. They never even tried.
"Trust," he repeats. "You listen to me now. You put me in you. Now."
You wince and bite your lip. His blue eyes bore into you as you reach down and wrap your fingers around him. He's so thick you're already clenching.
He raises you slightly as he angles his hips. You guide his tip along your lips and to your entrance. Shame scalds over you as your arousal eases his trespass. He dips into you easily, lowering you onto his length with a long snarl.
He leans in, pinning you firmly to the wall. He puts his forehead to yours and pushes in until you arch your back. Your nails dig into his shoulder as your other hand slips down his chest.
"Baby, baby, baby," he drones as he rolls his hips in a long stroke. "I could live inside you."
He plunges into you again and you squeal. You hook your hand around the back of your neck as he slides out again. You moan and close your eyes. He presses his lips to yours as he pumps into you, crushing you to the tile.
He smothers you until you can't breathe or think. A promise of how your life will be from now on. His. All his.
💙
You're not ready for the day. Not after last night or this morning. You woke up to Steve's mouth on you. You were almost late.
You're exhausted. You feel slightly grimy. You can smell his sweat on you.
It's hard to sit in the office and pretend. When the usual small talk comes, you struggle to eke out the empty lie. 'How was your weekend?' 'It was fine. Boring, how was yours?'
You sit at your desk behind the window as patients come up to ask for the wait time or check in or to get their scripts. The tasks are mindless but you can't get your head to stop.
Usually, you'd be counting down the hours but today, you don't want the day to end. The morning rushes by in the usual parade of patients. The physicians stride in and out of rooms without looking up from charts, and the nurses chatter by the coffee machine and yawn.
It's almost lunch. Sheena will cover for your hour, then you'll do hers. You're not hungry. You can't even stomach coffee.
As you sign out, a figure approaches the other side of the window. You look up, ready to apologise that you're on your way out. You bite your tongue as Steve smiles back at you.
"Hey, sweetheart, is it lunch time yet?"
You gulp and glance over at Sheena. She watches him curiously. You clear your throat and stand.
"Sure." You say. "I'll just grab my stuff."
"Don't worry about your lunch bag. I'm gonna take you out." He winks.
"Oh, okay." You get up and turn to your coworker. "I'll be back at my usual time."
"Enjoy." She says as she sends you a copy look.
You shake your head and hurry away. You squeeze by a nurse and down the hall. You grab your purse and meet Steve in the waiting room.
"Nice place," he says as you near him.
"Yeah, it's not bad." You say as you try to hurry past him.
He stops you and puts his hand on your lower back. He leans in and you turn your lips away before he can meet them. He kisses your cheek but clucks as he pulls away.
"Come on. I only got an hour." You say as you take his hand.
"Hm, okay, sweetheart." His tone is rigid. He's not happy.
He takes you into the lobby and you try to hurry him out. He slows and pulls you back to keep pace with him. You squeeze his hand.
"So where are we going?"
"You wanna chill out?" He challenges. "What was that about?"
"What?"
"You don't wanna kiss me? You embarrassed or something?" He snips.
"No, no, it's just... It's work. It wouldn't be appropriate." You stroke his hand with your thumb. "I... Here. I'll kiss you now."
You turn to him but he shrugs you off. "Nah, I get it."
"Steve, please. Really. I just... don't want to get in trouble."
"Sure, sure," he moves as his hand goes slack in yours. He stares ahead as he marches to the doors.
"Steve." You beg, stomach in tatters. "Please. It's my job."
He's quiet as he lets go of you and steps ahead. He holds the door open and waves you through. You go outside and clutch the strap of your purse nervously as you wait for him to follow.
You walk in tense silence down the sidewalk. He huffs as his fist opens and closes. He's wearing a dark blue button up and black pants, the tattoo on his chest is just visible along with the hair across his pecks.
"You really don't need to be working, you know." He says.
"What?"
"I got more than enough to take care of you." He hooks his thumbs in his pockets.
"That's... Nice but... I should work."
"Why?" He counters.
"Because... I should help out."
"I don't need your help, sweetheart. I need you." He insists. "You told me yourself, you don't like the job."
"I didn't... I said it was just a job."
"Uh huh. So where's the argument here? Just a job. Think I'm more important than that." He stops and faces you. You look at him and turn stiffly.
"I never said--"
"You're wasting your time behind a desk. We should be planning our wedding. Our life." He crosses his arms. His shoulders round. "I spent all that time locked up. I don't got time to wait for you to get home, all stressed and burnt out. No, I need you focused, sweetheart."
"Steve, I can manage--"
"No, sweetheart. I don't think you're hearing me. I come before everything. Before work, before your deadbeat brother. You got my ring, you got me." He steps closer and grabs your arms. "You're not going back there."
"Not going back?" You utter.
"Consider this your notice." He slides his hand down your arm and snags your hand. He turns and tugs you down the sidewalk. "Now let's go find somewhere to eat. We can pick a date."
