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: 2,278
Warnings for Series: Angst, fluff, explicit rough & consensual sexual content, dub-con, dom!Steve, sub!reader, talk of past abusive dom / dub relationship, mentions of cheating, animal cruelty [no details], 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.
Graduation day had finally arrived. After four long and agonizing years, your hard work had paid off; you were graduating with honors, and good goddamn, did you feel proud of yourself. The ceremony was slightly longer than it should have been, but that could have had something to do with the way most of the women reacted as Steve gave his speech.
His azure eyes were twinkling in the sunlight and a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips when he found you in the front row. You had to work hard at not letting anyone see just how much he was affecting you. His voice was thick and rich as it came through the speakers, washing over you, adding fuel to the fire of your already rampant imagination.
When you had broken down and told Steve about Brock, Steve admitted something to you.
“I like you, a lot,” he said, repeating your earlier statement. “And I want to be with you. We will go on your clock. Whenever you’re ready to take it to the next level, I’ll wait for you, doing only what you are comfortable with, and not a moment before.”
You were pretty sure that was the moment you fell in love with Steve Rogers.
Hearing someone shout your name, you whirled around. “Dad,” you chuckled. You ran towards him and gave him a big hug.
“I… I thought you couldn’t make it.” God, he was a sight for sore eyes.
Phil shrugged and pressed a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “I wasn’t, but a friend of yours called, said the tickets were taken care of, all I had to do was show up.”
“Which friend?” you asked suspiciously.
“Some fella named Steve,” he answered with an arched brow.
You had thought it was Natasha, so when you heard Steve, you took a step back. “Wait… what?”
As if out of nowhere, the man in question appeared at your side, his hand held out to Phil. “Glad you could make it, Mr. Coulson.”
“Call me Phil,” he said, shaking Steve’s hand in greeting. “You really didn’t have to buy me a ticket.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, turning to look up at him sternly.
Steve winked as he chuckled. “I wanted to surprise Y/N, and you being here means a lot to her.”
“Well,” Phil said, looking at you. “I appreciate it. I’ll pay you -”
“No need, Phil,” Steve interrupted, shaking his head. “Seeing Y/N happy is all the payment I need.”
You watched the look on your dad’s face as recognition washed over him. “You… you look familiar. Have we met before?”
“I would remember meeting the man that is responsible for the amazing woman next to me,” Steve chuckled, has arm resting on your shoulders.
“Ah, yeah, I haven’t exactly told him,” you whispered, your arm automatically wrapping around his waist.
Phil’s eyes flicked back and forth. “Oh, okay, so, you two,” he murmured, and in that moment, you saw the last puzzle piece fall into place. “Oh, my God. You’re Steve Rogers, the commencement speaker, and CEO of Rogers Tech.”
Steve chuckled and dipped his head in confirmation. “I am.”
Your dad chuckled under his breath. “Your mother is going to lose her shit.”
“Dad,” you huffed, rolling your eyes.
“Listen, I know about the last phone call,” Phil said, stepping closer to you. “You stood up to her, and I’m damn proud of you.”
Tears pricked your eyes at his words. “Dad, stop it.”
“No, kid,” he announced, pulling you away from Steve’s side and into his arm, hugging you tight. “You’ve done everything exactly the way that you wanted, not the way she did.”
You were crying softly into his shoulder. “I think that’s a testament to who raised me.”
Phil gave you one last squeeze and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Stop it.”
Natasha’s giggles were growing louder, thanks to Clint, who had her on his back, legs wrapped around his waist, his hands under her thighs.
“Y/N,” she shrieked. “We’ve done it!”
As soon as she slid from Clint’s back, she launched herself at you and squeezed the breath from your lungs. You heard the introductions Steve made to his brother, followed quickly by an announcement about dinner, assuring Phil that it was on him, no questions asked.
Back at Steve’s apartment, you were sipping on a glass of wine, and watching Steve as he started a fire. “Thank you,” you murmured, smiling softly.
“For what?” he asked, looking at you with kind eyes.
“My dad, flying him out here. You didn’t have to do that.”
“But I wanted to,” he repeated for the tenth time since the graduation ceremony. He finished with the fire and poured himself some bourbon before taking a seat next to you. “Besides, making you happy is all I want to do.”
You leaned into his hand as he cupped your face and kissed his wrist. “Why? I’m nothing… no one special,” you lamented.
Steve took a drink before placing his glass on a coaster. He then took the wine glass from your hand and set it next to his. With his hand heavy on your thigh, he brushed his nose against yours, his eyes drilling into yours when he said, “You’re special to me, Y/N.”
And then his lips were on yours, sweetly kissing you, drawing gasps from the back of your throat. Quick kisses gave way to passionate ones, thickening the air surrounding you. You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, driving your tongue along his, tasting the aged liquor, growing drunk off his kisses. Steve growled low in his throat as his arm went behind your back. He pivoted in his seat, moving you with him, so that when he placed you on your back, he was settled between your thighs.
“Steve,” you murmured against his lips, his thick and hard body moving against yours. The heat between your legs spread out, surging through you. You arched into him, your back rising off the couch, your foot running along the back of his thigh, your hands roaming over the expanse of his shoulders.
His beard burned the column of your neck as he dropped sloppy kisses, first down one side, then up the other, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth. He was leaning on his left elbow as his right hand roamed along your frame; squeezing your hips, your rib cage just below your breasts, your thighs, and ass. Your dress had bunched up, and when you felt the heavy twitch of his cock against your cloth-covered pussy, you gave a needy moan.
Steve answered your moan with his own, his cock growing harder than ever as your arousal soaked through the front of his expensive pants. “Jesus,” he hissed, nipping at your ear, pushing his knees deep into the couch, spreading your thighs wider, his zipper biting into your clit.
Electricity shot up your spine and made you gasp. You’d never wanted to have someone fuck you so badly, but you also weren’t sure how emotionally ready you were. With the admission of how Brock treated you, and then Steve assuring you that he would wait for you, for as long as you needed him to, you had started to second guess yourself.
Would you ever be ready for another serious relationship? Was Steve just like Brock, sweet and attentive in the beginning, only to turn wicked later?
The door burst open, making you jump.
“Steve,” Bucky shouted, shoes squeaking on the floor as he ran into the room.
Steve sat up, his hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes glazed over. “What is it, Buck?”
“There’s been a breach,” Bucky answered, voice thin and tight.
“Show me,” Steve instructed, pulling you up and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Stay here.”
Steve followed his friend and bodyguard into the room that was filled with screens, each one was assigned to a camera on the premises, and each one of them was currently showing an error message.
“Shit, Buck,” Steve ground out. “How’d this happen?”
Bucky shook his head as he pushed some buttons on the control panel. “It started over here,” he said, pointing to the camera that was aimed in the alley where one of the back doors was.
Steve watched for thirty seconds before the feed cut out. “What time was that?”
“Nine o’clock, on the nose,” Bucky answered, turning his attention to the control panel again. “And then every five minutes, another camera goes dark.”
With every feed that was lost, Steve’s anger rose. “What’s being done to get the cameras up and running?” he demanded of his friend.
“Tech’s been called in,” was his answer. “Should be here within the hour.”
“Not good enough. Get them here as soon as possible.”
Bucky was pulling the phone from his pocket to do just that, when Steve asked another question. “Where’s the breach?”
“Shit, yeah, sorry,” he murmured. “Follow me.” While they walked down a maze of hallways and several flights of stairs, Bucky argued with the manager of the company Steve wanted there, “Now, not in a fucking hour.”
Steve shot Y/N a text, saying that he would be, Up in a few minutes. Go ahead and pour another glass of wine and sit tight.
“Ten minutes out,” Bucky confirmed into the phone. “Thank you.”
“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
“Don’t thank me yet.” Bucky held open the door for his friend, following him closely as they approached a table.
Steve stopped in front of the table. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to a box wrapped in the colors of Y/N’s alma mater.
Bucky nodded at the package. “That’s the breach. It was wedged in the door between the fifteenth and sixteenth floor. It’s been cleared, there’s no explosive residue, no threat of anthrax.”
A chill slithered down Steve’s spine as he stared at it. Whatever it housed was going to be bad. “Have you opened it?”
“I didn’t have to. I saw it on the x-ray,” he explained, the color draining from his face.
“What is it, then?” Steve demanded to know, his anger now bubbling just below the surface. Whoever did this was fucking pissing off the wrong person.
Bucky shook his head. Of all the shit he’d seen while in the Army, nothing unnerved him near as much as when he had seen the x-ray results. With shaking hands, he used a knife to cut through the wrapping, then the thick tape that held the box together. Once the flaps were open, Steve peered over the edge and covered his mouth with his hand.
“This was in the bow,” Bucky added, handing a once-pink collar to Steve.
The tag sounded like a bell as it swung back and forth on the bloody hook. “Henrietta,” Steve murmured before turning over the tag. “If found, call Y/N Y/L/N at 555-0369.”
With wide eyes, he stared hard at his friend, and then spun away, tearing out of the room, collar in his hand, Bucky hot on his trail. Bucky was shouting demands into his comm.
“Lock it down, all of it. No one comes in or gets out, not even the fucking tech!”
Steve’s heart pounded in his chest, laden with worry. When the door to his apartment came into view, he surged forward, his wild eyes scanning the dark room, lit only by the dancing flames in front of the couch, the couch that was empty.
“Fuck,” he snarled loudly before calling your name.
Bucky had his gun out, cocked, safety off, by his side, finger pressed against the barrel. He ran from room to room, clearing each one, as Steve bolted up the stairs, taking them three at a time, yelling for Y/N every few seconds.
“She’s not on the main floor,” Bucky shouted as he ran up the stairs, going down the hallway in the opposite direction Steve had gone.
Steve’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he slapped on the lights in the bedroom. Y/N was lying on his bed, curled around one of his pillows. She had changed out of her dress and was wearing one of Steve’s t-shirts, no doubtedly falling to her mid-thigh, but they way she was lying, it barely covered the curve of her ass.
Bucky was panting as he came into the room, dark eyes falling on Y/N’s sleeping form. He holstered his pistol as Steve walked over, dropped a kiss to her temple, and turned off the light, closing the door quietly.
Less than five minutes later, Steve was telling Bucky what Y/N had admitted about her past relationship.
“You think it’s him,” Bucky uttered as he typed Brock’s name into a search engine.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Steve murmured before taking a healthy drink of bourbon.
Bucky let loose a low whistle. “He’s got a rap sheet longer than my dick.”
Steve snorted in half-amusement. “I want his picture distributed to the team, and Y/N is now your top priority.”
“What about you?”
“I can take care of myself. It’s Y/N that needs protecting,” Steve insisted.
Bucky scoffed. “She ain’t gonna like it.”
“I don’t fuckin’ care,” Steve snapped, hand clenching the bloody collar, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand.
“Are you gonna tell her?” Bucky nodded at the open box that held a mutilated and dismembered feline.
Steve pulled in a stuttering breath, swallowing around the thick knot in his throat. “In the morning.”
TEN
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