Summary: Steve Rogers is the CEO of his own company, and he’s a man that has never heard the word no from anyone. He goes after what he wants and he gets it, no matter the cost.
You’re doing your best; sharing an apartment with your best friend, struggling through college, trying to make your own imprint on this world.
The two of you cross paths when, as a favor to your friend, you interview him for a magazine. Without meaning to, you catch the attention of the insanely wealthy and intense bachelor.
Word Count: 1,875
Warnings for Series: Angst, fluff, explicit rough & consensual sexual content, dub-con, dom!Steve, sub!reader, possibly more to come.
Author’s Note: Yes. There are going to be similarities to 50 Shades of Grey. This isn’t exactly a rewrite, this is my take on how it should have been. This fic wouldn’t be possible without @captain-rogers-beard and @climbthatmooselikeatree, their support and assistance has been invaluable.
My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.
Steve stared out your window. “A diner,” he deadpanned, eyebrow arched. “You want to sober up at a diner.”
“I’m starving,” you announced, rushing to unbuckle the seatbelt. “Besides, they have damn good pie.”
“Wait,” he growled, going to grab your wrist but missing it completely. He slammed the gear shift into park and jogged after you into the diner that proclaimed to have the ‘best coffee in the state.’
You were leaning over the counter, standing on your toes, not caring that people might possibly be staring at your ass. When you found a menu, you gave an excited squeal and spun around as you stood. The air that had been in your lungs seized at the dark gleam in Steve’s eyes.
“I would appreciate it,” he started, gently grabbing your elbow and leading you to a booth, “if you didn’t run away like that.”
Rolling your eyes, you picked up the menu and held it so his perfect face was hidden. Shit, you had a difficult enough time being around him when you were sober, but drunk? All your insecurities boiled to the surface, making heat creep up your neck. Then there was what he said outside the cafe.
“You’re an amazing woman, Y/N, and I… I don’t want to ruin you.”
What the hell did that mean? If he meant it, why did he bother coming to the bar? Wait…
“How the hell did you know where I was?” you blurted out, your filter completely doused in alcohol.
“What do you mean?” he asked, brows knitted together. “You called me, remember?”
The menu was set on the table, your hands clasped together atop it. “I did. I also never said where I was.”
Before he could answer, his phone rang. With his jaw clenched, he swiped a finger across the screen. “Rogers.”
You choked on a laugh when he winced and held the phone several inches from his ear. There was only one person that could elicit that kind of reaction; Natasha Romanov. While Steve was busy, the waitress came over and took your order. She was completely transfixed by Steve, almost dropping her pencil several times.
“So,” you murmured. “How’s Nat?”
Steve shook his head as he slid the slim phone into the pocket on the inside of his jacket. “She warned me to be on my best behavior.”
“She threatened you,” you clarified.
“She threatened me,” Steve agreed, a small smile tugging at his lips.
At that moment, your phone chirped. It was a text from Nat, saying exactly what she had said, followed with several laughing emojis. You sent a quick reply, promising to tell her when you’d be leaving the diner.
“You two are close.” It wasn’t a question.
You sat back and took off your jacket, sighing happily as the cooler air skimmed over your arms. “She’s closer to me than most of my family. We’ve been through so much together that there’s nothing I can’t think of where we won’t be side-by-side.”
Steve hummed and nodded. “It’s good to have someone like that in your life.”
“You seem pretty close with your brother,” you offered, remembering the way they signaled each other at the bar.
“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugged, dropping his eyes from your face to the paper mat on the table.
A blind person would have seen the rapid change in his demeanor, so you brought the conversation back to the start. “How did you know where I was?”
His wide shoulders shook as he fought back a laugh. “God, you don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it comes to the possibility that I might have a stalker. So… spill,” you ordered.
Steve looked at you, ocean-blue eyes drilling into yours. “I own a multi-million dollar telecommunications company. You tell me how I found out where you were.”
Narrowing your eyes playfully, you slapped at one of his hands. “You tracked my phone, you jerk.”
The waitress announced herself loudly, and it was clearly written all over her face, that she was pretending not to be interested. “Anything else I can get you right away?”
Steve didn’t even look at her when he dismissed her. “We’re good.”
You giggled after taking a long drink of your water. “Tell me, are you always that dismissive of the female variety?”
“Why do you ask?”
With a brow arched high, you stared at him. “You literally ran away from me, and that waitress, she’s been eyeing you since we got here.”
“I told you,” he groaned. “I don’t want to -”
“Ruin me,” you interrupted with a hard roll of your eyes. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
Steve pulled in a ragged breath as his eyes closed. “I… I’m a complicated man, Y/N.”
“That explains absolutely jack,” you huffed.
“I can’t… it’s not…,” he stammered, struggling to find the right words. It wasn’t something he was used to, not having the exact answer. Steve strived to be in control in all aspects of his life, at all times. But at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to dive across the table and show you just how fucked up you would be if he were to let you into his life.
Sighing heavily, you went to rest a hand on his, and to your surprise, he didn’t pull away. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Steve. I’m sorry I keep pushing the issue. I just… for having just met you, I like you. I thought that maybe you felt the same.”
“I do,” he breathed, turning his hand over to hold yours. “In fact, I’m incapable of leaving you alone.”
“Then don’t,” was your raspy reply. You gave his hand a squeeze before abandoning it to eat.
A proud smile took control of his lips for a moment at the sight, and he seemed more than happy to spend the rest of the time at the diner in silence, but you had another question for him.
“Why did you send me the books?”
Steve took a long drink of his water before answering. “I owed you an apology for my behavior. Do you not like them?”
“God, no,” you blurted. “I love them. I… I can’t keep them, though.”
“What, why?”
You had to keep from laughing at the almost puppy-like look he wore, as if you had just kicked him or taken his favorite toy. “They cost entirely too much to be meant as an apology.”
He was shaking his head and looking at you intently. “You are not to return them to me, Y/N. They are yours.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t having it. “Not another word about it.”
“Yes, sir,” you mumbled under your breath.
When you rolled your eyes, you missed the way he shifted in his seat and gnawed on his bottom lip.
Nat was sitting on the couch when you got home. “You didn’t text.”
“Sorry, mom,” you groaned, kicking off the heels, not caring that one of them slapped into the wall loudly.
She said your name in a way that made you regret calling her mom. “You go off with someone we don’t even know -”
“And you were with his brother,” you added, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and drinking until your lungs burned. “I’m fine, Nat. See?” you spun in a circle, which was a really bad idea.
Nat was at your side in the blink of an eye. “Why are you spinning?”
“To show you that I am in one piece,” you sassed. “I think… I think I’m gonna pass out.”
She latched an arm around your waist and hauled you into your room, dropping you to your bed just as you fell asleep.
Once home, Steve headed straight for his room. Not his bedroom, but the room that was off limits to everyone except for himself and whoever he had entered into an agreement with. He closed the door behind him and locked it, closing himself off from Bucky, who was downstairs, had shaken his head and grumbled something under his breath.
In closing the door, he also closed out the voices, the ones that told him he didn’t deserve someone like Y/N. She wasn’t like the others, the needy women that begged to be controlled, that got off on the control he held over them. Steve was a man that demanded control in everything he did, whether it was his work life, or personal. But whenever he was around her, all of that control, every last bit of it started to disappear. He didn’t like the way it felt, the way it seemed to slip through his fingers like water, dripping off his knuckles, no matter how tight he squeezed his hand.
Steve wanted Y/N, and he wanted her so bad he felt the carnal need pulsing in the marrow of his bones. But he knew that his life – what he did in private – was not something that he would… subject her to. It was demanding, he was demanding of his submissives.
The phone in his pocket buzzed; Clint.
“Hey, brother,” Steve greeted, leaving the room and locking it behind him.
“Man, I think I’m in love,” Clint announced.
Steve could hear the smile in his voice. “Slow down, man. Who is it this time?”
“Nat, Y/N’s friend.”
Chuckling, Steve poured himself a drink. “She threatened to cut off my -”
“Balls, puree’ them and force you to drink them,” Clint interrupted. “You should’a seen her, man. She was… amazing.”
“You know, her and Y/N are really close.”
Clint took a pull from the cigar he was smoking. “And? It’s not like you need an in. She likes you.”
“It’s not that simple, Clint.”
Steve could practically hear his brother roll his eyes. “And you like her.”
“Damn it,” he growled. “It’s not -”
“That simple,” Clint finished Steve’s sentence. “You said that already.”
“Goodnight, Clint.” Steve disconnected the call before his brother could say anything else.
It was almost noon when you woke, your mouth dry as sand, your legs tangled in the sheets, and your skin slick with sweat. You had been dreaming of Steve between your thighs, buried to the hilt, making the most sensual sounds as he brought you to climax. It had felt so real, his beard as it burned your skin, the way he stretched you out, driving you higher and higher –
“Rise and shine,” Nat cooed as she opened your door.
“Lemme sleep,” you argued, rolling to your side, groaning low in your throat.
Your friend all out giggled. “Not happening, Y/N. We’re going out.”
“Why?” you asked, pushing up to your elbow.
She handed you a glass of water and three ibuprofen. “Get up, take a shower, and brush your goddamn teeth,” she chastised, making a face.
“Tell me where we’re going,” you demanded.
Nat shot a wink over her shoulder. “It’s a surprise.” She was out the door, effectively ending the conversation.
“Shit,” you moaned after draining the glass. There was no arguing with Natasha, you had learned that years ago, but damn it, you were hungover. With a resigned sigh, you stood on shaking legs and shuffled into the bathroom.
FIVE
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