• @blackgirlswhowrite 16 OSCAR NOMINATIONS? Hell Yes! 👏🏾
Congratulations to SINNERS for making history by being the MOST nominated film in OSCAR History! We love Black Excellence!
We also love a good Vampire, Paranormal, Fantasy, anything in that genre over here. 🤭
And after seeing Sinners, we had to share a few of our favorite Black Vampire stories by Black Indie Authors. Y’all not gonna keep leaving Black Indie Authors off your list.
What other Vampire Books by Black Indie Authors should we add to the list?
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Mob!Steve x wedding guest reader
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Please let me know what you enjoyed and what you think could happen next! I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
“Come on, let’s get some cake, doll.” Steve keeps hold of your hand.
Your feet ache in your low heels and your face is alight with the warmth of his proximity. He clings to you as he approaches the line for a piece. He surpasses the patient attendees as you glance at them guiltily. No one protests as he steps to the front of the line..
Clare turns with a plate and her eyes widen as she sees him. She looks between the two of you. Her throat locks up.
“Oh, hi,” she squeaks. “Steve, uh, here you go.”
He takes the plate and thanks her, then hands it to you. She watches as her pretty face creases. Her make up gives her a nice glow as her veil shimmers around her hair.
“I’m so happy you could make it,” she says to you.
“Oh, thanks, uh… yeah. Congratulations.” You stammer.
“Here ya are, big man,” her husband steps up and offers a plate to Steve. “Live a little. It’s a wedding.”
“Sam,” Steve drawls as he accepts the cake, his other hand still on yours.
“Well, I see you’re at least having a little fun,” the groom winks. “I don’t know her…”
“My friend from college. Remember,” Clarissa– Clare offers.
“Ah,” Sam’s brows pop up. “Interesting. Well, you two have fun.” He grins. “Oh, and don’t let him get too rowdy.”
Steve hums and leans his arm against yours. He ushers you away as agitation roils off of him. He takes you to one of the tall tables along the wall and you set down your plate. He finally lets go of you but stands right at your side, sleeve brushing your arm.
You pick up the fork as your eyes wander over the space. Some still dance, uninterested in the dessert, as others sit and chatter over the fragrant sponge. You sniff it curiously. You nearly drop it as you spot a man with a woman in his lap, feeding her cake with an intense stare. What the heck?
Another whisper passed between two men and a handshake between a grey-haired guest and groomsman. It’s less and less like a party and more like a business conference. Steve leans into you again.
“You gonna have that cake?” He intones.
You turn back to him. His plate is untouched, fork still resting on the rim. You gulp and steady your grip. His hand brushes down your back and rests right at your waist. You suppress a shiver and slice into the dainty layers.
It’s a curious flavour. Not the vanilla you were expecting. You make a face as he chuckles and drags his fingertips up the back of your dress. He pets the back of your neck.
“No good?” He wonders.
You swallow. “Mm, not bad, I just… I don’t know what the flavour is.”
“Here, gimme some.” He commands.
You blink in confusion. You look down then cut into another morsel. You raise the fork as he leans in. He sucks the cake and icing off the tines and licks his lips. He hums as he tastes it diligently then swallows.
“Saffron… maybe citrus in the icing.” He says.
“Oh… never had saffron,” you murmur.
His hand crawls down and he plays with the strap of your dress. “What would you choose? For a wedding?”
You shrug as you resist another chill. You poke at the cake. “I like strawberry… maybe with dark chocolate…” You mull and glance around. “But weddings seem like a whole lotta work.”
“Big deal, isn’t it?” He says. “Choosing the person you’re gonna be with forever.” He shifts closer. “Doll, did I say that this…” He slides his thumb under the strap of your dress. “Looks amazing on you.”
You squirm and take another bite. Your skin is on fire. He’s not a bad looking man, that’s for sure, but he’s still a stranger. Your plan was cake and dip. You have a long way to go home. The hotel is booked up for the wedding party and you can’t afford the night anyhow.
“Thanks,” you murmur and smile nervously. “That’s…”
His thumb comes up and drags under your lip. “Got some icing there.” He brings his thumb up to suck off the excess.
“Oh, uh,” you use the back of your hand to dab at your mouth.
“It’s alright, doll. I got you.” He once more places his hand on your back and pinches the fabric of your dress. “Finish your cake.”
You flinch. His last words are a firm command. His voice is so certain you don’t dare refuse. He has that way about him. Like refusal isn’t an option. Whatever he wants is inevitable.
You focus on the simple task of eating. It’s delicious but you can barely enjoy it with the new shadow at your side. You finish and place your fork down.
“Steve, I hate to keep you all night and I should be going–”
“Let’s dance,” he interjects and latches onto your hand again.
You stagger beside him as he urges you back to the floor. You’re tired and you just want to head off. You have to factor in the two hours of driving, longer in the dark.
He brings you to face him. You let him lead again.
“Steve, it’s been a lot of fun,” you say above the music. He leans in to hear. “But I have to drive–”
He tilts his head so his mouth is right by your ear. “Doll, you’re not going,” he growls. “Don’t worry about all that. Just be with me.”
You choke on your words. His fingers curl into your side as he once more guides your hand up to his chest. He keeps you close as he sways with you.
You peek up at him and find him staring down at you. You wince in surprise and he grins. Before you can look away, he catches your chin. He leans in and you gasp just as his lips meet yours.
He keeps a strong hold on your chin as his tongue slides across your lips. He pokes until you let him in. He snarls into your mouth as his arm hooks around you and he crushes you to him.
You can’t help but melt in his embrace, overly aware of those around you. He parts but stays close, his breath fanning over your face. He sighs in content.
Geez, Steve! Pushy much? Absolutely not intimidating or scary at all to be talking about what kind of cake she wants for her own wedding. She's never going home, is she?
Also, how rich are these people?! Saffron in a gigantic wedding cake?!? Holy shnikes!
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader; minor Colin Shea x same F!Reader
Word Count: 7,088
Summary: In just the blink of an eye, your whole life changes.
Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. AU. Mentions of FWB. Masturbation. Accidental vehicular homicide. Reference to blood and death. Throat slashing. Major character death. Soft!dark warlock!Steve. Magic/supernatural/ritualistic elements. Kidnapping and forced marriage. Forced exhibitionism. A kind of magical thrall to ease your anxiety and panic. Dub con. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected sex. Breeding kink if you squint. Gaslighting, manipulation, and deceit.
A/N: Here’s another WIP that sat in my drafts for literally years lol. I’m really excited to share it with you. Enjoy!
Hoevember 2025 Masterlist
A twinge of something deep inside of you made your belly flip as the car sped down the dark and unfamiliar road late at night.
Perhaps it was concern or confusion, or just plain old discomfort at not really knowing where you were.
But that was silly, because you were with Colin, and you trusted him.
"Don't tell me you're lost," you teased, trying to override your internal alarm bells with amusement as you glanced over at him, slouched and relaxed in the driver's seat beside you.
Colin scoffed, shooting you a lazy grin. "I know exactly where we are." His eyes lingered on you for a beat–too long considering he was driving–his lazy grin growing wicked as he shifted in his seat and parted his thighs. "How about we have some fun and you put that smart mouth of yours to better use?"
"You're crazy," you scoffed right back at him, turning away despite the way your body instantly perked up in interest at his naughty suggestion.
"Come on, babe, if you're not gonna help me out, I guess I'll just need to take care of myself."
You felt a hot rush flood your cheeks as you heard the zipper on Colin's jeans descend.
"Oh my god, don't!" you squeaked, nearly covering your eyes with your hand.
Part of you knew the night would end this way, or, at least in some kind of sexy shenanigans sort of way - it always did with Colin Shea.
You had never really done the friends with benefits thing until him, but the two of you had just clicked when you accidentally spilled your drink on him while visiting your favorite coffee shop a few months ago, and well, it was your typical kind of meet cute that you hadn't really believed in until Colin.
You knew he wasn't the one for you, and the two of you were just having fun, which was something you so desperately needed in your life, because you tended to be a very hyper-productive and regimented type A personality.
So Colin brought some fun and silliness and unpredictability into your life.
Lots of good sex, too.
But still, driving a deserted back road late at night after going to the movies hardly seemed the time nor place for…this.
"Colin, please, you're gonna get into an accident!" you chirped, pressing your thighs together in the passenger seat of his crappy old sedan as you glanced over and caught sight of Colin's cock gripped in his hand as he slowly stroked up and down.
His twinkling eyes flickered to you as he grinned. "There's no one out here, pretty girl. Just you and me, come on. I'll even drive slow."
He eased his foot off the brake, challenge sparkling in his gaze as he smirked at you and continued to work himself over with his hand.
"Just put your mouth on me, you know I can make it quick."
You laughed as he waggled his eyebrows at you, your concerned gaze flickering from him to the darkness spread out beyond the car's windshield.
"Not sure that's something you should be so proud of," you couldn't help but tease back, feeling pleased with yourself at the surprised laugh that burst from Colin's lips.
He really did paint a tempting picture. His usually fair face rosy with desire, his brown hair carelessly mussed. But it was the way his bare forearm was flexing as he picked up the pace of his hand that had you gnawing on your bottom lip as your good girl defenses began to crumble.
"The longer you leave me hanging, the more I'm gonna make you regret it," Colin smirked.
You gasped as he suddenly floored it, his foot slamming onto the accelerator and his old car jerking before speeding up.
"Colin!" your voice quavered as the dark woods on either side of the car sped by at an unnaturally fast pace. "Please slow down!"
"Not until you agree to play with me," Colin laughed, he glanced over at you, taking his eyes off the road for a split second, but that was all it took.
From the side of the road, a figure emerged seemingly from nowhere, a woman dressed in all white as she darted out from the thick cosp of trees, across the road, right in front of Colin's car and–
"Look out!" you screamed, whimpering as Colin' "huh?"d a split second before he mowed down the woman before your eyes.
The impact of the car hitting her body was sickening as she rolled up over the car hood and collided with the windshield with enough force to have the glass cracking then spider webbing before she sailed over the roof of the car. She hit the asphalt behind Colin's vehicle with a sound that made bile flood the back of your throat.
"Oh fuck!" Colin breathed, slamming on the brakes and grunting as the two of you went jerking forward in your seats at the sudden halt.
"Oh my god," you whimpered, tears already streaking down your cheeks as you held your hand over your mouth and tried like hell to swallow down the sick making your throat burn. "Oh my god, Colin."
"I-it's okay," he trembled, quickly tucking himself away before flinging off his seatbelt and clambering out of the car.
You gasped for breath, feeling dizzy as a quiet buzzing noise filled your head and you followed after Colin at a much slower pace. Your knees threatened to give out once you rounded the back of the car to find him standing over the crumpled, mangled body of the woman lying dead in the middle of the road.
"I swear I didn’t see her," Colin said faintly, staring down at the corpse in shock.
"Oh god," you wisped, leaning on the car to remain upright as you drank in the horrific scene before you.
There was so much blood.
And you had never seen a human's neck bent at that angle before.
You could actually see the way Colin was shaking as he hesitantly moved closer to the body, glancing up at you with wide, scared eyes as he did so.
"I'm gonna check for a pulse."
"I don't…I don't think you need to," you trembled, flailing an arm the woman's way. "Her neck."
Before Colin could reply, a swarm of figures emerged from the woods on both sides of the road, nearly a dozen of them dressed in black hooded robes as they converged on you both.
They moved so quickly, and out of nowhere, that you couldn't even process their presence, before one of them moved behind Colin, grabbed his chin with one hand to tilt back his head, and used the other to drag a large, gleaming knife across his neck.
You screamed as Colin's blood began to spurt from the gory, jagged slit along his throat, lunging toward him but caught by two figures on either side of you who held you in place as you watched Colin wheeze and gurgle and grab at his neck, his eyes wild and terrified as he dropped to his knees.
"No, please!" you sobbed, staring in horrified disbelief as Colin gasped and convulsed before collapsing on the ground, just beside the body already lying there, and now just as dead as she. "Oh my god, oh my–"
Your cries died off into a terrified whine as your head was yanked back and you caught sight of a silver gleam in your periphery, another large knife that was moving closer and closer to your throat as you wildly fought the hands holding you in place.
"Stop," a deep voice laced with authority commanded.
You whimpered in relief as the knife's approach halted before the weapon fell out of sight. A beat later, the grip on your head relinquished its hold on you.
Still crying and trembling, you found yourself staring into the dark depths of a raised hood as a tall, broad figure in a black robe loomed over you. Try as you might, you couldn't see who was staring back at you, but you could feel their gaze.
A moment later, two large, pale hands lifted to pull back the robe's hood, and you suddenly found yourself meeting the dark, blue gaze of the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life.
His skin was fair and perfect, complimented by a pair of plump, pink lips. His jawline was sharp and seemingly carved from marble with the kind of reverence that his beauty deserved. His hair was golden blonde and neatly swept back from his handsome face, and that blue gaze of his was intense enough to have a shiver race up your spine and a terrified kind of thrill rattle through every inch of your body.
Because he was watching you as if you were a treasure he had spent his entire life hunting.
Suddenly, one of his massive hands raised, and you flinched in expectation of violence, given what they had done to Colin. But the man did nothing more than caress along your cheek with his knuckles before cradling your head in a way that allowed his thumb to rest against your temple.
His touch made your body buzz, almost like he was thrumming and now that you were in contact with him, you were too. You gasped softly, your eyes shining with confusion as they flickered between his.
"Mmm, you can feel my power, can't you?" he murmured, excitement gleaming in his eyes at the very thought. "Good."
"Please–" you started, but he instantly hushed you, his grip on your head growing more firm as his eyes flashed with what looked like ice blue fire before going darker than before.
Suddenly, it was like your entire life was flashing before your eyes. A mess of your most vivid memories–your highest highs and lowest lows, your most private thoughts and dreams and desires, every single moment, thought, and feeling that made up the essence of who you were whizzing through your mind like a movie in fast forward.
Somehow, as you met the stranger's gaze, you knew that he could see it all too, an unwanted witness to your life and all that you were–all that you wanted–standing before you and watching you with such an intent kind of calculation colored with desire that you felt the deepest depths of your body clench hard without your permission.
His lips curled into a smirk, almost as if he knew your moral dilemma, and a moment later his touch drifted away from your temple as the movie reel in your brain suddenly cut out and you stared at this terrifying stranger in fearful wonder.
“You're such a sweet soul, aren’t you?" he rumbled, his voice low and husky in a way that had your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt. "You have a pure heart. A bit of fire in you, too, of course, but you long for love and adoration, to be coveted.”
The way he was just so casually commentating on your innermost secrets, thoughts, and desires had a wave of humiliation washing over you, and with it the kind of vulnerability that had you wanting to curl in on yourself as a few fresh tears brimmed and spilled down your cheeks.
"I’m Steve Rogers," he introduced himself, his thumb tracing along your trembling lower lip as he ducked close and said, "And you? You will take my betrothed's place."
You blinked at him, uncomprehending. "W-what?"
"A life for a life," he said, stepping away from you and gesturing to the dead woman still lying on the pavement.
Your gaze flickered to her, to Colin, and you felt a sob catch in your chest. "B-but it was an accident! She ran out in the middle of the road! And you, you already killed him–"
"Accidents still have consequences, and his life has no value to me and is not a fair trade," Steve scoffed, not even bothering to look at Colin. "But yours?"
Steve shifted closer once more, blocking your view of the carnage along the road as his hands were suddenly on you. His touch snuck beneath your open jacket and groped along the curves of your body. His fingers drew up your t-shirt until he could touch bare skin and purr at the soft warmth of you, and the way another strange crackle of energy resulted from his skin on yours.
When his touch moved higher, his thumbs teasing along the underside of your breasts, you gasped and tried to shrink away from him. He shot you a wicked grin that was so full of lewd, sinful promise that it had your pussy throbbing in response.
"I think there's some value to you," Steve said, his hands falling away from your body. He gripped your chin and tilted your face up so you couldn't escape his unwavering gaze, so you could see the threat sparking in his eyes as he watched you. "Unless you want to join your partner? I can make it quick and fairly painless."
His eyes flashed black, all of the white fading to darkness, and you whimpered in fear at the unnatural sight, recoiling from him and shaking your head without thinking. "No, please. I'm sorry, please…"
Giving you a satisfied look, Steve nodded and voiced a simple command: "Bring her."
He stepped aside, then past you, swiftly striding from the road and back into the dark woods from where he first emerged.
A beat later, the grips on your arms tightened as the figures at either side of you turned you toward the woods–toward Steve–and began dragging you into the darkness and further and further away from the road.
Further and further away from your life as you knew it.
It felt as if your mind was spinning out of control.
A mess of thoughts and emotions consumed you as you tried to make sense of what was happening as you were forcefully dragged through the dark forest, your trek among the robed figures quick and quiet.
Colin was dead.
He was gone.
Just like that.
You would never see him again or talk to him again or–
A soft sob finally spilled past your lips, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision as you tripped along the leaves and tree roots the others seemed to so effortlessly navigate.
You still didn't understand why they had taken you, why that man, Steve, had spared your life.
Simply because he found you a pretty replacement for his dead fiancée?
Didn't he care for the woman he was supposed to marry? It didn't seem like it if he could so quickly and easily replace her.
Your brain skipped along to another thought, a memory this time, the way Steve's eyes had gone black. You had only ever seen something like that in horror movies.
And the way he had called forth all of your memories…
It felt like you were in a horror movie.
None of this made sense.
None of it could be real.
"It's all very real, I assure you," Steve smiled at you over his shoulder, winking at your gaping look of realization that he had read your mind.
Who was he?
Or maybe the question you should be asking yourself was what was he?
“Smart girl,” Steve’s soft hum reached your ears and had your heart pounding even harder in your chest at his acknowledgment of your train of thought.
Before you could linger on that maybe terrifying admission, your small group suddenly cleared the last line of trees. The forest gave way to a large, sprawling property that you could only make out under the cloak of night due to the houses dotting the distant perimeter and the soft light glowing in their windows.
Your eyes landed on the biggest structure that sat uphill from all the rest, an opulent stone mansion, but before your wide gaze could take in much more than that, you were directed to a nearby clearing that looked like it had been set up for some kind of event.
Or ritual.
An archway of flowers and gauzy white material lined with glowing fairy lights had been crafted by draping said materials over the thick branch of an ancient tree. Just beyond the archway was some sort of altar. A makeshift fire pit was at the center with a stone mantle placed atop. The surface had been meticulously set with an array of strange items, like a golden chalice, some crystals, half a dozen lit candles, and an ancient looking leather-bound tome with a black pentagon etched into the cover.
Once again, before you could fully absorb what your eyes were seeing, you were bodily dragged away a few yards, to where some of the robed figures converged on you. You saw glimpses of dainty hands and feminine features within the depths of the hoods surrounding you and knew that these were women who were starting to tug at your clothes to disrobe you.
“No! Don’t touch me!” you hissed, jerking and recoiling, smacking and swatting at hands as they got too close.
When you saw that one of the figures held a long, white dress in her hands, you tried to turn and run, but suddenly your body froze.
Literally, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t speak, all you could do was watch with wide, terrified eyes as Steve marched over, his gaze flashing with that light blue–and unnatural–gleam, his jaw clenched as he pulled up right in front of you.
He made sudden slicing motions with his fingers, and you choked on a whimper as your clothes suddenly split and fluttered from your body. They landed on the ground around you, useless, as you stood frozen still and now naked and shivering in the cold evening air.
Steve was quiet for a long moment, his eyes darker than before as they took their time inching over your bare body before lifting to meet your tearful gaze.
"You're much more attractive than the woman you replaced. A much more fitting match for a warlock of my caliber."
Your brain was stuck on “warlock” but was quickly distracted as Steve shifted closer and tweaked your nipple. He took another step, his big body pressing right against yours as he leaned in and tucked his face against the curve of your neck, breathing you in with a satisfied hum. You whimpered as he drew his nose along your skin before the sharp nip of his teeth made you gasp in pain.
He retreated, eyes catching on yours as he spoke, "If you resist again or do anything other than exactly what I tell you to do, I will kill you, but before that, I will make you suffer."
Steve lifted his hand, and an ice blue fireball appeared an inch above his palm, illuminating the way your features twisted in terror as you stared, both mesmerized and stunned. He flipped his hand, and suddenly the fireball was replaced by the same kind of knife that had been used to slit Colin’s throat.
That got a soft whine of terror from you, and Steve’s eyes glinted as he leaned close and murmured, "You’re going to be good now, and do as you’re told, aren’t you?”
"Y-yes, I'm sorry,” you whispered, swallowing hard as you stared at the knife in Steve’s hand.
"Good girl,” Steve praised before snapping his fingers.
All at once, the knife disappeared and you were suddenly wearing the long, white dress and able to move again, head tipping down to gaze at yourself in a fearful sort of awe.
"There's an obedient wife inside of you, I just know it,” Steve hummed. He caught your chin in his fingers and tilted your face up, so your eyes could meet his. “And soon, there will be a big, fat cock inside of her.”
Steve’s grin was nothing short of wicked and you couldn’t help but shudder as he took your hand and turned, leading you over to the archway and altar.
You stumbled after him, eyes darting all around before landing on a large, circular stone dais just off to the side of the altar. Then suddenly, you were standing beneath the arch of flowers and fairy lights as Steve clasped both of your hands in his.
The ritual–and it was a ritual, of that you were now sure–was a blur, your mind struggling to keep up and process what was happening as you were overwhelmed with a cocktail of fear and disbelief.
The robed figures stood in a semi-circle of witnesses as Steve led the ceremony himself. He spoke words in a language you didn’t understand but thought might be Latin. He used a gleaming knife with a curved, ivory handle crowned with a ruby to carefully cut a line across his palm, then your own, before pressing your palms together, your stomach churning at the blood exchange.
Steve directed you to squeeze your blood into the golden chalice, doing the same with his own injured hand before he swirled the contents of the chalice for a moment then took a sip before commanding you to do the same.
You nearly threw up as the iron-rich taste coated your tongue, but were distracted by a soft buzzing along your wounded palm and held up your hand, watching–mesmerized–as the cut healed before your eyes.
“And so you are mine, and I am yours,” Steve murmured with finality, setting the chalice back on the stone mantle before his hands touched your hips, earning your full attention.
His lips curled at your wide-eyed look of utter shock and overwhelm before he ducked close and kissed you. The kiss was brief, but thorough, Steve's tongue sweeping past the seam of your lips and invading your mouth–and pulling a soft mewl from you–before he retreated just as quickly as he had descended on you in the first place.
You were still trying to catch your breath as Steve’s hand gently enveloped yours and he led you through the archway and toward the stone dais. As you neared, a huge four-poster bed appeared in the center of the dais.
It was made of cherry wood, all four posts of which were adorned with engravings of runes that meant nothing to you but made something deep inside of you shift and stand at attention anyway. Gauzy, white material was strung from post to post, giving a dreamy quality to the setting that maybe you would have appreciated if you were watching a fantasy movie and not standing at the edge of the dais, newly and forcefully married to a stranger you were pretty sure was a warlock.
Movement behind you pulled you from your spiraling thoughts, and you watched as the robed figures spread out around the stone dais, forming a circle of spectators that made your stomach flip unpleasantly as all your hair stood on end.
"What's happening?" you quavered, shaking hard now as you felt all those gazes watching you without relent, waiting. “What are they doing?”
"We have one more act to perform to complete the ritual and bind ourselves for eternity,” Steve explained, turning to you with a devilish grin. “I daresay we'll both enjoy it, at least, I know I will."
His tone was temptation incarnate, and there was no mistaking his meaning as he watched you with an anticipatory and intimidating kind of lust darkening his gaze.
"You…you can't be serious. I don't even know you–"
"There's no better way to get to know me."
"But…they're all gonna watch?!" you cried, flinging your free arm out to gesture at the looming figures observing you both.
"The ritual will not be considered complete without witnesses,” Steve shrugged.
"No, I'm not doing this, you're crazy, you're all fucking insane!" You screeched, trying to yank away from Steve’s firm grip.
Sighing, he raised his free hand, giving a flick of his wrist that had you suddenly swept off your feet and sailing toward the bed.
You landed on the soft surface with a breathless shriek, scrambling up into a sit as blue ribbons appeared from thin air and wove around your wrists. They gently pulled your arms up and over your head, until you were firmly secured to the headboard and thrashing against your restraints.
Only when you felt the bed dip beside you did you stop your wild struggles, your face streaked with tears as you watched Steve kneel on the edge of the mattress. There was this feral look shadowing his gaze–something about it making you feel like prey–as he shrugged off his long, dark robe and revealed the tall, muscular body beneath.
He really did look like a statue of a Greek god come to life, and the sudden realization of just how huge he was–how much bigger and stronger than you–had a new kind of terror lancing through you.
Because you had never felt so helpless and vulnerable in your entire life.
"Please,” you quavered, your chest heaving with suppressed sobs. “Steve, I'm scared. I don't want this. I just want to go home."
"This is your home now. I am your home now,” Steve husked, crawling closer.
His hands touched your knees, surprisingly gentle as he eased your legs apart, causing your dress to ride up as he settled between your thighs.
"Please, don't do this,” you cried harder, trying to wrench away from his hold, but with your wrists secured, you had nowhere to go, and no real way to fight him off. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Your wild eyes looked past him, and you remembered the robed spectators–all of them gathered, just feet away, watching, waiting for your violation like it was an honor to be observed.
Something to celebrate.
And not the kind of intimate desecration that your soul would never recover from.
Your chest tightened in a way that had your terror blaring louder and louder as you realized that you couldn’t breathe and your heart was beating so hard and so fast that you were waiting for it to explode right through your chest.
“Shhh, you’re okay,” Steve’s voice was a soft, hypnotic hum as his fingers caressed along the edge of your jaw and aimed your frantic gaze his way. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
His free hand cradled the other side of your head, his fingers stroking along your temple. You felt a strange, warm tingle against your skin that suddenly had the rigid tension in your body easing–melting away entirely–as you sagged back against the bed, no longer struggling and panicked, but pliant.
“Good, there you go, you’re doing so well for me, sweet girl,” Steve murmured.
His smile was warm and proud as he continued to watch you, kept you caught in his intent gaze. His thumb brushed along the apple of your cheek as his fingers continued to caress your opposite temple, making the white noise of terror in your mind fade more and more with each soft touch.
After another moment of his quiet praise and gentle caresses, all you could focus on was Steve, and it was like the unwanted spectators surrounding you faded into the background, then away entirely, until it was just you and Steve, here and now.
Together.
"I take no joy in terrifying you, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, his touch descending to caress along your neck. “I'd much rather make you feel good. I want you to want me, crave me. So just keep your eyes on mine and relax."
It was like a spell was weaved into his words, because your body did exactly as he said. Any remaining tension drained from you completely, and you shuddered, giving a shaky exhale as all your muscles went lax. A pleasant haziness came over your once frantic mind, rolling in like a thick fog, blanketing you in a soothing, all-encompassing peace that had you making a soft sound of relief.
“Good. Good.”
Steve stretched out over you, his huge body like a warm, weighted blanket as it came into contact with you, and you only melted for him further, not resisting or tugging at your restraints anymore as he cradled your face and dipped close to kiss you.
With each press of Steve’s lush lips against your own, it was like your body came more and more alive. When his tongue touched yours, you shivered, whining softly, signaling for more without words or any regret or concern that wanting that–wanting him–was wrong.
Because all there was was Steve, and how good he was making you feel.
You gasped as his mouth trailed away from yours, his lips mapping the terrain of your cheek, then down the length of your throat, setting your skin ablaze with each gentle touch and taste.
His mouth wasn’t the only thing on the move as Steve’s big hands began to explore your body, too. There was an unmistakable reverence to his touch as he learned the terrain of you for the very first time. It had you squirming, wanting to both hide and lay yourself bare to him completely in equal measure.
You weren’t even distressed when your dress suddenly disappeared, and you really were laid bare beneath Steve, who was now just as naked as you.
In fact, you reveled in the heat he threw off, your head falling back on a soft keen of pleasure when his plush lips circled one of your hard nipples and sucked. He tongued at the achy peak as his hand gently massaged your other breast, until you were moaning and unconsciously spreading your legs in silent invitation.
Something about the way Steve touched and tasted you felt like the most devoted kind of worship, and it had every single cell in your body rejoicing–thrumming and desperate for more.
"Are you using your magic to make me feel this good?" you gasped as he kissed a trail down your stomach that had a rush of slick oozing from your pussy.
Steve’s eyes lifted to yours, shining with amusement, his lips tilted into a smirk as he replied, "No, this is just my genuine desire for you translated into touch."
As his words settled over you both, his smirk faded away, his features softening–turning more serious, too–as his lips returned to your belly. He kept his dark eyes fixed on your own as he placed a kiss against your skin before his tongue snuck out to tease.
As he descended lower, your breath caught, and a loud, obscene moan was ripped from the back of your throat when Steve drew his tongue up the slit of your cunt. You had never been so loud in all your life–especially when it came to sex–but all you could focus on right now was how good it felt as Steve lapped up the evidence of your arousal with a throaty groan of satisfaction.
You shuddered as he spread you open even more with his thumbs, burying his face in your pussy with an enthusiasm you never experienced before as he simply devoured you until you came with a wrecked scream.
You thrashed and rutted against Steve’s face as you rode out the intense wave of pleasure, moaning as he dragged his tongue over your clit again and again, until he had you quaking with another release before your body had even trembled its way through the first one.
Still gasping for breath, you felt both relieved and excited as Steve rose up over you, settling his body over yours as he slotted himself between your sprawled thighs.
“I knew you would be perfect for me,” he breathed, his handsome face shining with your slick as he watched you with the kind of possession in his eyes that had your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing. “And now I’m going to claim you completely.”
You could only watch with bated breath–your body nearly vibrating with a different kind of need–as Steve gripped his hard cock in hand and guided it to your entrance. As his crown caught along your hole, his eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you were trapped in his dark, sinful gaze–entranced by him entirely–as he slowly pushed inside your body for the first time.
Whining as Steve’s big, thick cock stretched you to the point of discomfort, you shivered as he cooed at you, carefully splitting you open inch by inch before he settled deep inside you to the hilt and gave a throaty groan to be entirely sheathed by your tight warmth.
“You’re perfect,” Steve husked, rutting just enough to settle a bit deeper and steal your breath away. “Made just for me, isn’t that right, my sweet love?”
Steve’s hips were already moving, and by the time you replied, your “Yes!” was more of a keen as your head fell back and your eyes scrunched shut as he started to fuck you with an eagerness that punched the air from your lungs.
Steve sank against you even more, bracing his weight on his arms at either side of your head–an almost embrace–as he rutted into your messy cunt without missing a beat.
“You feel like heaven,” Steve panted against your cheek, nosing along your warm skin and chuckling as he felt your pussy flutter at his praise. “This pussy was made for me and my cock, wasn’t it?”
You whined, turning your face away, shyness creeping in under Steve’s avid gaze and primal plundering of your body.
“Don’t be shy, sweet wife,” Steve groaned, his cock throbbing at that title. He shifted, driving into you harder and making you squeal and cant up against him, desperate for more. “That’s it, spread those legs even more for me, tilt those hips. Take me even deeper within this sweet, sinful body. Let me make you mine completely.”
You felt that strange sensation again–a kind of knowing–as Steve spoke, that there was magic threaded into his words. And with each quiet grunt of praise and soft command for more, he was casting a spell on you–body and mind–and making you more and more his in a way that your logical mind could never comprehend.
When each thrust of his hips against yours started to draw ragged cries from your lips, Steve murmured his encouragement, his hand shifting to cradle your face as he caught your glossy eyes with his.
“That’s it, give yourself to me,” he murmured against your mouth, stealing a kiss. “Fall apart for me, sweetheart. Let go, surrender to me.”
Sliding a hand between your bodies, Steve’s fingers joined in on your undoing, finding your clit and strumming until you were gasping loudly, your body drawing taut as it reached its peak.
Between one gasp and the next, you toppled over the edge, crying out in pleasure as you shattered into a million pieces beneath him, whining and writhing as ecstasy consumed you.
Groaning as you clenched and squeezed around him, Steve’s hips picked up their pace, and he pounded into you without relent as he rushed closer and closer to his own peak. He reached it with a primal groan, the sound all grit and gravel and making your pussy flutter all over again as he jerked into you with intention, pumping you full of his cum and tipping you over into another orgasm.
As your body rippled with another intense, toe-curling release–you and Steve riding the wave of pleasure together this time, as one–the dark sky above suddenly lit up, a rush of brilliant blue energy clashing with a rush of ruby red. You gasped as the energies formed a luminescent dome above you that glittered and swirled like two galaxies twining together before pulsing golden-white and slowly fading away.
When your awe-filled gaze dropped back to meet Steve’s, he was smiling softly at you, his hips rutting a final few times as his warm hand palmed your belly. You swore his touch somehow made you more aware, and you could feel the hot flood of his seed claiming you, planting itself into the deepest depths of your body where it could take root.
“May our union, and future together, be blessed,” Steve said, his thumb stroking your belly and making you shiver as his sweaty forehead dropped to yours.
You realized quite suddenly, that your wrists were no longer bound to the headboard–hand’t been for awhile now–and you were clinging to Steve as you lay pliant and completely spent beneath him, your chest heaving for breath as he nuzzled his nose against yours.
"The ritual is complete. You are mine now, forever,” Steve murmured. “My beloved, and I will covet you just like you desire."
You felt the truth in Steve’s words like it was a physical thing. You felt the magic and power behind them, too, and unlike at the start of this evening, those things–just the mere existence of them–no longer shook you to your core.
If anything, it was like a deeply buried and long forgotten part of yourself that you never knew existed until now was suddenly awake and aware and knew that everything would be okay.
So in response to Steve’s declaration–and in the aftermath of being so thoroughly claimed–all you could do was mewl softly and echo his sentiment, solidifying your total surrender to him with one simple word…
"Yours,” you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open as you clung to Steve more tightly.
Hours later, as the sun slowly began to rise, Steve watched you as you slept curled up beside him–completely at peace–in his bed.
Unbeknownst to you in your sleeping state, you were glowing–literally–a faint red glimmer emanating from your bare skin, your magic finally activated after a long overdue hibernation.
Thanks to the ritual from earlier, and Steve’s own magic, of course.
His lips curled as he gently traced along your skin, watching as the red glimmer grew brighter in response to his touch. His smile was knowing and pleased before his head suddenly cocked, like he was listening to something only he could hear.
Giving you a final caress, he pressed his lips to your forehead before carefully slipping from bed, being sure not to wake you.
By the time Steve stepped out into the hallway and pulled the bedroom door shut behind him, he was no longer naked but magically clothed in a pair of jeans and a black sweater.
He made his way down the grand staircase that led into the even grander entryway of his stone manor, which was adorned with black and white marble and an extravagant golden chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling.
And in the middle of the entryway stood a lone figure, waiting.
Once Steve cleared the stairs, the figure turned to him, and Steve rolled his eyes at the bloody visage of Colin Shea, his face unnaturally pale and his neck wound gaping and still trickling blood.
“Really?” Steve tutted, looking unimpressed.
Colin smiled, shrugging as he replied, “Everything happened so quickly earlier that I just wanted to make sure you got your money’s worth.”
His form rippled–like a stone hitting the surface of water–and suddenly the illusion of Colin Shea fell away. A man taller and broader took his place, with dark, close cropped hair, a matching beard, and ice blue eyes. Unlike Colin’s casual, messy style, this man was dressed in dark, fitted jeans, a white henley, and a worn leather jacket.
“Everyone told me that Curtis Everett was an excellent tracker, but you’re also one of the most talented shapeshifters I’ve ever met,” Steve smirked. He waved his hand, and a thick envelope of cash appeared in his grip. He handed it over to Curtis, with a promise of, “It’s all there.”
“She has no idea, you know,” Curtis muttered your name, tucking the envelope of money in his inner jacket pocket. “That she comes from such a long and powerful line of witches.”
“Oh, I know, but just because her family’s magic laid dormant for so long doesn’t make it any less powerful. Marrying her–and bonding her in the old way–I’ll be even more formidable than before, the most powerful warlock to walk this earth in centuries.”
“Are you ever gonna tell her that the whole thing was a setup?” Curtis asked. “That the girl in the road was just a glamor? That she never actually met the real Colin Shea?”
Steve shrugged, looking unconcerned. “Who knows what the future holds? I’ll do whatever is in my best interest, and hers.”
“Well, I didn’t really enjoy playing a frat bro idiot to fulfill your best interests,” Curtis smirked. “But at least the sex was good. She’s real sweet, I’m almost jealous you get to keep her.”
It was instant, the way Steve’s smile dropped, his eyes going hard as the air around him crackled with blue energy. “Careful, Everett, that’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“Noted,” Curtis grinned, not intimidated by Steve in the least. If anything, he was amused as he held up his hands in faux surrender to keep the peace.
Just because he wasn’t intimidated by Steve in this moment didn’t mean he wanted to be on the warlock’s bad side.
Especially not this warlock, and not after he bonded to you.
“I’ll see myself out so you can get back to your newly betrothed. Enjoy,” Curtis winked, before turning and slipping out the front door.
Steve’s steely look melted into a grin once Curtis was gone. He didn’t blame the shapeshifter one bit for growing attached to you after the past few months. Steve had only been in your presence for a handful of hours, and he felt the same way.
And then some.
The truth was–Steve couldn’t wait to get to know you better. To know everything about you, and vice versa. To draw out your magic more and more, help you learn how to wield it, strengthen it–and strengthen himself by proxy.
He had spent years researching your bloodline and the ancient magic of you and your ancestors. When he had discovered you–your existence, your potential–Steve knew he had to have you.
And now, after all of his meticulous planning and execution, he finally did.
Steve gave a quiet chuckle, looking very pleased with himself–and how everything had turned out. As he started up the staircase to return to the bedroom, he even whistled a jaunty tune, in the highest of spirits as he made his way back to you…
His sweet, coveted wife.
YAY! ANOTHER WIP BROUGHT TO LIFE 🤗 Please take a moment to hoe with me over this one! I’d love to know your thoughts and reactions! Thank you so much for reading ❤️
Also ngl I am very intrigued by shifter!tracker!Curtis in this 👀
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Holy smokes, Siri!!!!!! This was scary and creepy and hawt and and and-!!! I don't even know what to say!
My goodness, this Steve!!!!! Scary and powerful and conniving! But also soft and gentle and took such care with her when he needed to. And I do believe that he will continue treating her that way. As long as it serves his agenda 😏😳
And the Colin reveal!!! I really wasn't expecting that! What a fun twist! Poor thing has no idea of the trap that was laid out for her.
You're definitely not the only one super intrigued by this Curtis. I want to know everything about him.
Thank you for such a dark and twisted treat! An extremely fun read! 💜
Eeeeeeep thank you!! I was REALLY excited for this plot bunny and the twist at the end, but felt so blocked on this story for so long. I’m so happy and relieved lol to have finally completed it!!
This Steve was such a strategic master manipulator. Like so much of what he planned and executed seemed so unnecessary, but I think he enjoyed everything that went into it all and finally ensnaring you in the end 🫠
Trust me, the whore brain is twisting and turning and squirming over Curtis bwahaha. I haven’t really written him much with a bratty Reader, and that’s the vibe I’m getting here 😏
Thank you so much for reading and gifting me such a lovely reblog 🥰
dadbf!smoke x mommygf!annie x younger!black!fem!oc
warnings for this series ! suggestive language , cursing , fluff , angst , mentions of sex , graphic depictions of sex , papa kink , slight mama kink , spanking , praise kink , corruption kink + possessive kink , poly relationships , dadbf! energy from smoke , momgf! energy from annie , threesome sex , some dom / sub undertones , naiveness from oc! , overstimulation , dumbification , && clinginess .
synopsis; elijah smoke moore and annie moore had been the happiest couple for twelve years , their love steady and unshakable . but everything changed when they both laid eyes on a younger , irresistible woman , and their hearts quietly shifted . both of them grew intensely infatuated with the woman . her presence and fire fueled something inside the both of them . both of them unable to admit it , they lied , sneaked , and schemed to get closer to her . eventually , the truth came out : they both needed her . together , they decided to open their marriage and claim the woman they couldn’t resist .
THE HEAVY FEELING OF EXHAUSTION filled the man's body, his bones felt so heavy. As well as his skin and everything else; he couldn't wait to get home, and lay across his pillow soft bed. And most importantly see his wife, he’d been at the gym for quite some time since he hadn’t been in a while and needed to get back on schedule and now his body was tired. He loved his wife with a devotion that felt bone-deep; it was part of why the gym had become an afterthought—he’d rather spend every moment tangled up in her. Their connection was unreal, the kind of closeness people envied, certain nothing could ever tear it apart.
Nothing… or so it seemed.
In the blink of an eye, Elijah Moore was firing up his cars engine and pulling off. He grabbed his red bull that was in his car’s cupholder before bringing it to his two-toned lips and drinking from the metal can. The energy drink swimming down his throat. As he was driving he looked to his right, and saw a small little flower shop. And a thought immediately was plunged into his brain.
“Annie would love some flowers.” He thought to himself.
He pondered the thought before saying fuck it and getting into a different lane and driving over to the flower shop. Before he knew it he was parking, getting out of the car and walking up to the shop. He walked up to the entry, Smoke opened the door and walked in. The shop was so pretty, it wasn't too big.. but wasn't too small either. And there was a plethora of different flowers to choose from.
His eyes sweeped across the shop. Soft pink walls blended beautifully with touches of tan and white, creating a warm, inviting contrast to the vibrant colors of the flowers. Greenery and vines draped from the ceiling, weaving between twinkling fairy lights that cast a gentle, magical glow over the space.
As he wandered through the shop, Smoke came across Annie’s favorite flowers.. lilies. A small smile formed on her mouth as he strides over to the flowers and grabbing them before walking over to the checkout desk.
When he finally got to the checkout desk, it was empty—nobody in sight. Smoke’s mouth pulled into an irritated frown, his right brow tightening like he was two seconds from cussing. He tapped the silver bell once. “I’m coming!” a woman called out from the back before strolling out to the counter. Smoke’s irritation stayed but kinda withered away once she came.
“Hi! Which flowers are you looking to buy today?” she asked sweetly, her voice cheerful yet rich and smooth. Smoke felt the corner of his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to show, but he kept his face steady. “These,” he said simply, handing her the lilies. She accepted them with a warm smile, glanced at the price tag, and ran them across the scanner. As the machine beeped, Smoke’s eyes drifted to her name tag—Delilah.
For a reason he couldn’t explain, he tucked the name away in the back of his mind.
“That’ll be ten dollars!” she said brightly. Smoke nodded, slipped a hand into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. He handed her a ten-dollar bill without a word. She smiled, printed the receipt, and passed him both the slip and the bouquet. “Will that be all?” she asked, tilting her head politely. Elijah shrugged. “Think I’m gon’ look around a little bit more.”
He took the flowers and wandered deeper into the shop. As he browsed, he spotted a few plants Annie would definitely like. Why the hell not, he thought, grabbing them one by one. But the longer he stayed, the more he felt it—that prickling sensation of being watched. When he turned, the woman whom checked him out instantly snapped her head in the opposite direction, pretending she hadn’t been staring. Smoke’s brows dipped, irritation flickering across his face, but he let it go. He wasn’t here for strangers.
He kept looking, and that’s when he saw it: the cutest little stuffed bear sitting beside a bouquet of flowers, its soft fur and tiny stitched smile the exact kind of thing Annie would melt over. A quiet warmth spread across his chest as he reached for it, lips tugging into the faintest smile.
With the bear in hand and the plants tucked under his arm, he made his way back to the checkout counter. He set everything down and waited while she pulled each item toward her, scanning them one by one.
“That’ll be thirty dollars,” she said, her voice softening just a touch. Smoke reached into his back pocket again, pulled out his wallet, and slid a twenty and a ten onto the counter. She smiled, printed the receipt, and handed him both the slip and the flowers. "Have a great day!" She said as Smoke walked out of the flower shop and got into his car.
as Smoke walked out of the flower shop and got into his car.
Once he drove off, it didn’t take long to get home. Their house was only ten minutes away, and before he knew it, he was pulling into the driveway, opening the garage, and parking inside. He closed the garage door before walking into the house from the side door in the garage.
The atmosphere in the house was light, softened by the warm, mouthwatering smell of dinner drifting through the air. Elijah inhaled deeply as he stepped inside, the scent of his wife’s cooking settling something in his chest.
He walked into the kitchen, sat the bouquet of lilies, the plants and the bear down on the counter and slipped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her gently against him as he pressed slow kisses along her neck. He had missed her today—missed her warmth, her love, the quiet but powerful admiration they shared. Their love spoke loudly in the silence of their home, filling every room with its presence. Affection was their language, and between the two of them, it was never in short supply. He grabbed the wooden spoon from her hands and turned her around to kiss her lips, also moving his calloused hand up to her throat.
"Smoke leave me 'lone now! I still gotta finish cookin' this food!" Annie spoke, playfully waving him off as she turned back towards the oven, Elijah kissed his teeth in rebuttal before moving his calloused hand from her throat and bringing his arms to waist and wrapping them around it.
“I got somethin’ for you,” he announced, revealing the items he’d set on the counter. Annie gasped, her smile blooming instantly. “Thank you, baby,” she murmured before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Put those flowers in the vase over there for me, please?”
He nodded with a quiet sigh, sliding his arms away from her so he could move to the sink. He grabbed the vase, filled it with tap water, and set the lilies inside, taking a moment to arrange them just right. And quickly went upstairs and into their bedroom to put the plants next to her other ones. And quickly walked to her office to put the bear on her desk. Once he was done, he returned to her side and wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her close like he hadn’t gone a second without missing her.
"What you makin, hm?" He curiously questioned; his voice coming out gruffly; his wife as he looked over her shoulder and down at the stovetop. "Spaghetti—but we don't got any pasta.. so we gon' have to go to the store and get some." His arms stayed heavy around her waist, chin dropped to her shoulder, like he refused to let her out of his hold even for a second. The kitchen filled with the warm smell of tomatoes and seasoned meat, the quiet sizzle of the pan matching the soft rhythm of his breathing against her neck.
A few minutes later, the sauce was simmering and the meat was done. She turned in his arms, facing him fully now, her fingers reaching up to rub the shell of his ear—a touch she knew always got him soft. "Come on," she murmured, smiling up at him. "Let's go grab the pasta real quick so we can get back before anything burns." He nodded and slid his hands from her waist, only to lace his fingers with hers.
Without a word, he guided her out of the kitchen and toward the front door. Before he opened it, he patted his pockets, checking for the keys—once he felt the jingle, he twisted the knob and pulled the door open, gesturing for Annie to step out first. He locked up behind them, then walked her to the car, opening her door like it was second nature. Once she was settled inside, he closed it gently, rounded the hood, got in on his side, and started the engine. Within seconds, they were pulling off, headed to the store together.
After a few minutes of driving; they arrive and park at their nearest grocery store. But as Annie reaches to open her door Smoke stops her. "Baby please, we came here for one thing don't go in hea and a million different things.. we got enough groceries at home." Annie wanted to oh so badly roll her big brown eyes and kiss her teeth; but that last time she did that smoke had her bent over his knee and her ass ended up being spanked til her ass was raw and until she apologized. "I promise I won't," she said honestly, pushing her door open. Before she could step out, Smoke was already out of the driver's seat, striding around the car to help her down.
A small smile was plastered on her lips, "Well thank you." A chuckle flows out of the man's mouth, once Annie was out the car Smoke politely closed her door and laced her fingers with his own before they both walked in the store.
"I'm gon' stay right here to make sure you don't get nothin' else but the damn noodles," Annie huffed "Elijah, please," she groaned. Once she had a basket in hand, they headed down the aisle for the noodles and dropped them in. "C'mon, 'lijah." She spoke as she walked toward self-checkout, Smoke trailing right behind her. Once they reached the register, he paid for the pasta and bagged it up neatly..
They left the store hand in hand, slipping into the car with grocery bags rustling in the backseat. As soon as Smoke started the engine, his hand slid over to Annie’s right thigh, squeezing gently like he always did. The quiet between them felt safe, familiar. Smoke stared through the windshield, thinking about how deeply he loved her… how unshakable they were… how nothing could ever wedge itself between the two of them.
But fate has a funny way of testing what people think is unbreakable.
before i say anything; id like to greatly thank and credit the amazingggggg @thebumblebeesworld for helpin’ me wit’ this chapter and for beta reading!!, it was hardd as hell coming up with ideas as to what to do with the first chapter (first chapters are always hell for me) and they were soo nice and loving and helped! tysm boo!!
excuse any errors, i used a lot of old drafts to make this chapter because of how hard it was for me to write this first chapter,
this chapter is a bit boring. BUT chapter twooo is where it reallly starts getting interesting .. this chapter was just to get the series started. it’s really just a filler chapter
this series really is about to be a wild ride honestly; and do you think we’ve met oc yet? or no?🙂. i’ve already gotten a start on the second and third chapter so the next chapter should be out quite soon.
also! fuck tumblr for marking this post as mature when there’s not even any sex scenes on here just warnings ?? and i tried to appeal it and tell them that that’s not for this chapter but for the WHOLE series and they never got back to me. they’ve never marked any of my other things and i’ve literally written nasty ass shit. so it’s like wow???? oh! and if not obvious, the face claim for the oc is ryan destiny !
and smoke an’ annie are like in their mid to late 30s smoke is 37, annie is 35, and the oc! is 29.
Fic Summary: When your friend sends you to a remote cabin for a peaceful getaway, you're surprised to find it already occupied by another friend of hers. Was it a scheduling mix-up, or is she playing matchmaker with the autumn air as your backdrop?
Chapter Summary: You arrive at the cabin and meet Bucky Barnes.
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.8k
Chapter Warnings: Fluff, meddling friend (in the best way), instant attraction, opening up, forced proximity, Avengers alternate universe, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Day 1 of Falling for You. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You smiled as you took in the small cabin in front of you, breathing in the scent of pine needles and damp wood. You arrived a little later than you wanted, but that was okay. After a few grueling months at work, a secluded getaway was exactly what you needed. No emails, no deadlines, no demands. Just you, a few books, and some peace and quiet. All thanks to your friend Natasha.
She knew you felt tired and overworked lately, unable to catch up on rest or enjoy what little downtime you had. Thankfully, things were about to slow down at work since they hired a couple of new people, but you still had time off that you had to use before the end of the year or you’d lose it. She not only urged you to take a much deserved week off, but offered up a fully stocked cabin she shared with her sister and refused to let you pay.
“Enjoy the time off. That’ll be payment enough for me,” she told you.
You found the key under the flower pot just where she said it would be. You happily sighed and picked up your bag as you unlocked the door. You wondered if there was a reading nook or if you could read by the fire. Maybe you'd make some tea and pretend your boyfriend made it for you.
“In my dreams,” you muttered.
You were painfully single and had been for months, which was easy to blame on work. The last date you went on, the guy had eaten half of your plate and told you it was to help you maintain your figure. Suffice to say you didn't call him again. Natasha told you the right guy would come along. She also offered to ruin your date’s reputation for how he acted. You didn't take her up on it, which she seemed both respectful and disappointed.
Pushing that thought aside, you smiled and looked around the place once you were inside. Rustic, cozy, and perfect. It was just what you needed. But what you weren't expecting was a large man to suddenly enter the living room, your bag falling from your hand from the shock.
“Wow,” you whispered.
The buttons of his plaid shirt were hanging on for dear life from stretching across his broad chest. The shade of his eyes rivaled a glacial lake. His perfectly trimmed beard looked good enough to brush your fingers through. So did his shoulder length hair. Veins popped out of his forearms, his left arm covered in tattoos from what you could see. He was stunningly gorgeous.
You didn’t know the cabin of your dreams came with a perfect man.
“Hi,” you said, your voice higher than you intended.
You weren't trying to stare. You really weren't. But how was there such a gorgeous specimen standing right in front of you? He wasn't just a man. He was a man. The things you’d let him do to you just from his stare alone.
Wait, what was he doing here?
“Um, hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward smile. Even his voice was sexy. You were a goner. “Are you lost?”
“I.. I don't think so. I-I’m staying here for the week," you answered, taking your phone out to double check. “Maple Creek Cabin 7. October 29th through November 4th.”
You knew you got the date right. God, what if you had the wrong cabin? No, that didn't make sense. You found the key right where Natasha said it would be.
The confused look on his face was adorable. “I’m staying here for the week. Maple Creek Cabin 7. October 29th through November 4th,” he gently argued, your stomach sinking when he checked his phone, too. “Booked it through my friend about a month ago.”
“Does that friend happen to be Natasha?” you asked, not saying her full name in case the guy wasn't telling the truth.
He nodded slowly. “Romanoff?”
You nodded in return. No way could he pull that name out of thin air. “That’s her. I booked it through her, too.”
A long silence hung in the air as you stared at each other, broken only by the crackling fire from the fireplace. “She double booked us,” he said with a hint of resignation, tapping his screen a couple of times. “Great.”
You shifted when Natasha’s voice rang out from his phone seconds later. “Barnes, aren't you supposed to be enjoying some peace and quiet?”
Barnes? That name sounded familiar. Natasha had mentioned it in passing. What did she say about him?
“You double booked your cabin,” he said, not accusatory. He almost sounded amused. Almost.
“Hey, Nat,” you called out.
“Oh, hi. Glad you made it safely,” she said warmly. “Did I do that? Well, I have been meaning to introduce you two to each other, but I didn’t mean to double book the place. Must’ve gotten my weeks mixed up.”
You frowned. She was usually so meticulous. She didn't sound at all surprised either that both of you were there at the same time.
“Got your weeks mixed up, huh?” he asked.
“Sure did,” she replied.
“Bullshit,” he mouthed to you, making you smother a giggle. “That doesn't sound like you.”
“These things happen, even to the best of us.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, even though she couldn't see you. “You told me the key was under the flower pot,” you reminded her. Surely he wouldn't have unlocked the door and put the key back.
“I did,” she confirmed.
“And you told me the key was under the small boulder,” he said, shaking his head. “So, you knew we were both coming.”
“Barnes, I told you about the key under the boulder because it’s a bit heavier and you like lifting things,” she said, not confirming nor denying that she knew you’d both be there. “You think I’d purposely give you each a different place to locate a key?”
“Yes,” you said at the same time. Natasha was very good at playing whatever angle she wanted to play.
“Look, since you’re both there, you might as well make the most of it,” she said. You could picture the smirk on her face. “You both need a break. And some peace.”
The man looked at you with an unreadable expression. Was he tired like you? Overworked? Lonely?
“I gotta go. Sorry about the double booking,” your friend said, not sounding at all apologetic. “Enjoy your time.”
She hung up before either of you could say anything else, the silence starting to stretch again. “So, she did this on purpose, right?” you finally half-teased.
He scoffed, his cheek twitching. “Yeah, I think she did.”
But why? You didn't know this guy, and he didn't know you. She must’ve thought you’d get along at least, otherwise she would've urged both of you to go.
“Well, you were here first. I can always come back another time,” you said, giving him a small smile.
It was a shame. You were looking forward to it. You still had a week off. There were other things that could fill the time.
“Wait.” He took a few steps closer. “I’m not making you drive all the way back from... wherever you came from. And I don’t really want to leave either.”
“Are you... suggesting we share the place?” you asked. He didn’t mind?
He shrugged. “Well, she suggested it. I’m just agreeing,” he said, making you smile a little. “The couch is a pull-out, so I can sleep there while you take the bedroom.”
There was only one bed. Wasn’t that how some romance stories began? But your life wasn’t a story, was it?
“I won’t bother you or get in your way,” he added when you hesitated.
“I don’t think you’d be a bother,” you promised. Far from it. The truth was, he was a stranger. A handsome one, but still a stranger.
But Natasha wouldn’t steer you wrong.
That made him smile a little. “But?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. You were the one who didn’t want to be a bother. “I don’t even know your name. I mean, besides Barnes,” you said instead.
His smile widened. “I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”
You smiled back and gave him your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck again, glancing toward the kitchen. “I was… just about to make something to eat. If you’re hungry, you’re welcome to join me.”
You found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, a giddy feeling spreading from the fact that he wanted to spend time with you. “Sure. Thanks. I’ll just set my bag in the bedroom,” you said, trying to sound casual.
He nodded, his eyes on you as you picked up your bag and carried it to the bedroom. You were proud your legs didn't give out, and your heart thudded a little harder and faster than it should have. “This is fine. Just fine. Just a week in a cabin with the most gorgeous man alive,” you muttered.
How were you going to survive?
You groaned quietly and looked around. The bedroom was just as cozy as the rest of the cabin with warm wood paneling, a thick quilt at the foot of the bed, and a small window that looked out onto the trees. A pang of guilt hit you when you saw a small, dark bag near the dresser. He offered the room up to you so easily, like it was nothing, even though he showed up first. Was it right for you to take it?
You stepped closer to the dresser and opened the top drawer, spotting socks and underwear. He’d already started settling in. Maybe he even imagined a quiet week of solitude here, just like you had. And now you were there disrupting it.
You took a breath and headed toward the kitchen. Bucky was already there, sleeves rolled up, rummaging through the cupboard like he owned the place. He looked perfectly at ease.
“Hey,” you said softly.
“Hey,” he said, glancing at you with a small smile. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup okay?”
“Better than okay,” you replied, stepping closer. It was a nice comfort meal. “Can I help out at all?”
His eyebrows shot up before he nodded to the loaf of bread. From what you saw, Natasha wasn't lying when she said she stocked up the place. “You mind buttering the bread?”
“Not at all.”
The kitchen was cozy, but on the smaller side. At least it felt small as you moved through it. You brushed past him to get the butter and had to brush by again to get a knife. He shifted slightly to give you space, but his presence lingered.
Did he have any idea how handsome he was? How good he smelled? It was insane.
“So,” you said, trying not to stare. “Do you cook often?”
You almost winced. It was a lame question to ask. You were curious, but you also just wanted to hear him talk.
He shrugged, getting a pot and pan out. “Nothing too fancy since I’m usually just cooking for myself,” he answered. You understood that. “I like simple stuff. Quiet meals.”
You nodded, spreading the butter across the bread. “Me, too,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Though I almost burned my dinner the other night because I kept telling myself I was only sending one more work email, which turned into ten more.”
He chuckled gently, the sound warm enough to spread heat from your chest. “A multitasking hazard. I get it.”
Silence followed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You watched him pour the soup into the pot, his hand steady. He wasn't a chatterbox, but he didn't seem completely closed off either.
“Are you sure you don’t want the bedroom? You were here first,” you said, leaving out that he had already begun to unpack.
He shook his head. “I’m good with the couch. Really.”
You bit your lip and you swore he stared. “Are you sure?”
He smiled softly. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”
You nodded slowly. “Okay,” you said, your heart fluttering. “Thank you,” you added, wondering if you could somehow make it up to him.
“Nothing to thank me for.” He turned his attention back to the stove. “Plus I didn't mind sleeping near a fire.”
“That does sound nice,” you said.
The two of you didn’t say much after that, quietly cooking the simple meal, the sizzling sound of the butter melting into the bread filling the air. It was strange, but it almost felt natural. Would it be like that all week?
“I don’t think Nat mentioned how you two know each other,” he said, surprising you.
“Oh. I was a waitress at the Red Room, and she worked there, too. Do you know the Red Room?” you asked. He nodded a little. You were glad to be out of there. “She left and started working at SHIELD, but we kept in touch. I work for SHIELD now, too.”
He stared at you for a beat. “You work for SHIELD?”
“Yeah. Behavioral Strategy. Mostly internal dynamics, conflict resolution, team cohesion. That sort of thing.” You frowned when he chuckled. “What?”
“I work for SHIELD, too,” he said, your mouth falling open. “Tactical Development. Mostly field logistics and security protocols.”
“Wait, we both work for SHIELD?” you asked, shaking your head. “Small world.”
It only slightly surprised you that you hadn’t crossed paths yet. It was a large company with multiple divisions, lots of moving pieces. There were times it felt siloed, everyone existing within their teams and nowhere else.
You snapped your fingers when you suddenly remembered exactly what Natasha said. “Barnes! Nat mentioned your name when a group of you had to go overseas.”
“All good things, I hope,” he teased, winking at you.
That little wink would play on repeat in your head later. You just knew it. “She said you’re smart, loyal, and good at protecting people, even when it costs you. And that…”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push.
Your heart thudded. “That you’re tired, but still keep your head up,” you said before adding in a whisper, “That you're a good man, even when you doubt yourself.”
It felt like you said too much. You just met the guy. But you knew some of the work with SHIELD could be extremely dangerous, sometimes haunting. And he didn't look at all uncomfortable or put off by what you said.
“I am a little tired.” His expression shifted, something soft in his eyes. “I feel like my memory isn’t so great some days, but I remember her talking about you, too. Said you were a smart, hard worker with a good heart.”
“She said that?” you asked, your voice small. Natasha didn’t throw out compliments without meaning it.
He nodded. “She also said you were tired, but you still find reasons to smile.”
“Oh.” You busied yourself by getting bowls and plates. “Well, our team has been short-staffed for months, and I’m-”
“Overworked?” he guessed, his fingers brushing yours when he took a plate from your hands to put the sandwich on, a jolt of electricity flowing up your arm.
“Yeah,” you said, wondering if you looked as tired as you felt. “But we have to get the job done. And we have a couple of new teammates, so things should even out.”
Bucky handed you the plate back, his fingers lingering enough to make your breath catch. He didn’t pull away immediately and neither did you. The moment stretched, something warm and electric crackling between you.
“I know what it feels like,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Being the one people rely on, even when you’re running on fumes.”
You swallowed. “It’s hard to say no when you care,” you said. And you did care. You cared about your team and their well-being.
He tilted his head, studying you. “That’s what Nat said. That you care too much sometimes, but you never let it make you bitter. She really admires you.”
You blinked, the words hitting you harder than expected. “She said that, too?”
“She did,” he whispered.
You didn’t know what to say to that. Some days it did seem like you cared too much. You tried to take care of everyone. But at the end of the day there was no one to take care of you. You had to take care of yourself.
You smiled, soft and a little sad. “She’s really good at reading people, and one of the strongest people I know.”
“You seem strong, too.”
You giggled, unable to stop yourself. You didn’t feel strong most days. “You don’t even know me.”
“Nat vouches for you, which is enough, but I have a good feeling about you,” he said, the corner of his lip twitching as something passed between you. “Here, let me get your bowl for you. It’s hot.”
“Thanks,” you exhaled, taking his plate in return.
You both carried the food to the small table near a large window, the glow from the fire casting flickering shadows along the walls. The trees swayed gently in the breeze outside, and you took a moment to appreciate the view. Your attention turned back to Bucky when he sat across from you, his posture relaxed yet attentive.
“I hope it’s edible,” he joked.
“I’m sure it is,” you smiled, his gaze on you as you took a bite. It had the perfect crunch from the bread, the cheese melted just right. “Mmm. This is really good.”
He relaxed more in his seat. “I’m sure it was your buttering skills that did it.”
Your cheeks got hot as he took a large bite, your gaze fixated on his mouth. You really had to stop staring at him. Creeping him out wasn’t on your list of things to do this week.
“So,” he began, dipping his sandwich in the soup. “Any big plans for the week?”
You shook your head. “Not really. I brought a couple of books, and I thought I’d read by the fire. Maybe take a walk if the weather’s nice enough.”
“That was my plan, too.”
“Really?”
He smiled at your expression. “Really. I don’t always get a lot of quiet, so I figured I’d take advantage of it while I can. I may try to sleep in a little if I can, too. Chop some wood for some exercise besides walking.”
You could think of an exercise or two to help him with. “That sounds really nice.”
He glanced at you, something thoughtful in his eyes. “I probably should’ve asked from the start, but your boyfriend won’t mind you staying with another man, will he?”
You almost dropped your sandwich. “Oh. No. No. I-I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m single.”
“Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I just assumed.”
Your head dipped, but you were smiling. “What about you?” you asked, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
He tapped a finger on the table. “I’m, uh, I’m single, too,” he said. It shocked you, but hope flickered within you. “It’s funny, Nat keeps trying to set my friend Steve up on blind dates. She won’t do that with me.”
“Why not?” you asked curiously.
He shrugged and took another bite. “Blind dates just feel a little forced.”
You weren’t about to point out the irony of the forced proximity Natasha set up. “I get that. The last date I went on the guy ate half of my food and said it was to help me maintain my figure.”
A flash of anger flickered across his face. “Bastard,” he growled, clearing his throat. “Sorry. That’s just… No, I’m not sorry for saying that. He sounds like a bastard.”
You smiled. It was sweet that he felt defensive of you. “It’s okay. I didn’t see him again, but Nat did threaten to ruin his reputation.”
He scoffed. “She said something similar when my last date ghosted me.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Someone ghosted you?” you asked. You couldn’t believe it.
“Heard through the grapevine that I was too quiet. Boring.”
“Can I call her a bastard, too?” you teased, your heart swelling when he chuckled. “Well, you don’t strike me as boring.”
He smirked. “You don’t even know me,” he said, echoing what you said earlier.
“Nat vouches for you, which is enough, but I have a good feeling about you,” you replied, echoing his words again. “And nothing wrong with being quiet. I think the quiet can be comforting.”
He didn’t just look into your eyes. He seemed to look right through you. “I do, too.”
Neither of you rushed through the rest of the meal, enjoying the quiet that both of you sought out. It was as if you had a hundred meals like this together before. You stood up once you were finished to clean the dishes and he helped you without prompt, moving around the small kitchen with you in an easy rhythm.
Eventually you both made your way to the living room once you each had your books, you picking a spot on the couch and him in the oversized chair. Each of you had a blanket, though you noticed he gave you the thicker one to keep you warmer. You glanced at him occasionally, and you felt him look at you in return.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but your eyes began to feel heavy and you yawned. “I think I’m going to call it a night,” you said, stretching as you stood. “Do you need help setting up the couch?”
He looked up from his book, his eyes soft and bright, the fire glowing in them. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, standing up, too.
“Okay,” you said, folding the blanket and setting it on the table. You gazed at him, your smile soft. “Thanks again for dinner. And the room.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he said, tucking some of his hair back. “Sleep well.”
“You, too,” you whispered.
You looked back for just a second when you walked away, your heart racing when you saw him looking at you, too. A smile touched his lips before you turned away, your heart still racing when you slipped into the bedroom. You settled into your nighttime routine, but your mind was occupied with Bucky.
A man who, like you, worked for SHIELD. One who liked the quiet and books. Single. Tired. A good man from what Natasha said. Wouldn’t set him up on blind dates, but encouraged him to stay there for a week with you. Which was essentially a weeklong blind date.
“What are you up to, Nat?” you asked yourself once you settled into bed.
And what would you and Bucky get up to tomorrow?
So, what do we think so far? How many days in before you two kiss? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, age difference, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Knight!Curtis Everett (Medieval AU)
Summary: your duties change with the interest of the castle's lord. (older reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
“Mallory is unwell. The lord’s rider has given word he will return shortly.” Griselda interrupts you as you check potatoes for overgrown eyes. You pick out those salvageable enough for stew. “You’ll need to take over her duties. These stairs are too much for me in the winter.”
You look up at the stewardess as she emphasizes her self-pitying words with her hands on her hips. You’re starting to feel the same in the winters though she has some more behind her than you. You’ve enough to dread the coming of the next.
“Is it an ague?” You ask as you dump three more potatoes in the basket.
“She cannot lift herself from over a pale. He innards are keen to be away from her,” Griselda scoffs. “Only for the day.”
“Yes, I will see to the chambers.” You assure her.
“Barton can tend to the potatoes. His stew after all. The last I dropped a crooked lookin’ spud in and he swatted me with that big spoon of his.” She scoffs. “Damn stubborn man.”
You smile. She loves her husband but you wouldn’t know it by her words. She is fortunate to have him and have him close.
“Warm some stones for the lord’s return. There’s a hock on the spit already. Spread some fresh rushes. He does prefer the curtains closed.” She girds. “Oh, and light some new tapers.”
“Yes, Griselda.”
“I don’t mean to coddle,” she shakes her head. “It’s only Mallory. She can be… forgetful.”
“She’s young.” You shrug as you wipe your hands on your apron and step out from behind the table.
“Ah, it will go quick for her as it did for us,” she chirps.
Us? Well, you suppose you are closer to Griselda than the fair Mallory.
You flit past Griselda as she calls for her husband, the cook, only to stop and chide a young ward pulling feathers from a hen. She does not like how he twists the wing as he does. “You’ll mangle it so it’ll only be good for gravy.”
When you finish, you’ll be sure to check on Mallory. As late, she’s been rather homesick. She speaks of her parents and her many sisters. You don’t mind listening. You haven’t many to miss. Your mother died at your birth and your father some years ago. Not long after your husband.
You pass Clovis, one of the riders that went out with Lord Everett. He must’ve been the one who sent word. His eyes narrow on you.
“Eh, bring us some ale. Mulled and warm. It’s cold.” He demands.
“Sir, I must see to the Lord’s return. I could fetch another–”
“Oh cow’s dung,” he waves you off rudely. “Where’s the young’un. The one with the cute nose?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. You don’t expect he truly wanted or expected one. Only to make you know of your worth to him.
You press on, winding up the tower stairs and departing upon the second storey. You slow as you approach the lord’s door. You knock out of courtesy and wait.
It is dark as you enter. That is your first task. Some light. You check the tapers and run to retrieve some to replace the more stubby lengths of wax. You light them with flint, fingers tinged by the effort.
Then the hearth. You kneel, your knees protesting the act, and arrange the logs in the stone inset. You are precise in the cluster of kindling and light the fire without much effort. The time spent lessens the frustrations.
You brace the stone frame and stand. The lord will need more logs to feed it through the night. You turn and consider the chamber, taking a moment to measure what’s left to you. You’ve never been in the lord’s chambers; you’ve passed by but it was always Mallory or Griselda, or one of the young male wards.
You go to fetch the logs. Three trips to ensure a full basket. The nights grow frosty and frigid. You put stones on the rack above the flames to warm. Set under the blankets, they’ll keep the lord warm as well.
You sweep away the old rushes and scatter new ones. The scent tickles your nose. It must have been a weary road. More than a fortnight away. You heard whispers it was to see the king but you know gossip is often akin to fantasy.
There’s a furor in the courtyard. The gates grind open on the turn of the large gears. Men holler, horse hooves pound, and bodies stir. You focus on your task. Nearly done.
You go back to the kitchens and barter some boiling water. You fill a basin and carry it cautiously through the corridors, clothes between your hand and the hot metal. You take each step with intent, the steam raising a sheen of steam on your face.
You ascend the stairs and continue down the corridor. As you approach the lord’s chambers, you tense. You thought you closed the door when you left to keep the warmth in. You wouldn’t be so careless, would you?
You go to step through the open door only for it to swing and hit the basin in your hand. You cry out at the boiling water splashes up your neck and soaks your apron and gown. The bowl clatters at your feet as the rest of the water pools at your feet.
The door opens inward as you step back and tug at the searing wool. You stop as your eyes flick up to meet icy blue of Lord Everett’s. Your breath rushes from your chest. You’ve never seen him closely. Only in passing. Always fleet of foot, eyes set, unseeing of all by his mission.
“My Lord,” you bow as you shake, skin alight from the boiling spill. His irises cling in your vision. They add to the heat of the calamity. “Apologies, I didn’t– I’ll fetch a mop and a new basin.”
He doesn’t say anything. You back up slowly, keeping your head down. You sidle away then turn. You hurry off, tugging at your soaked dress as you enter the staircase. It hurts terribly. It feels as if the wool has melded to your skin.
Never mind it then. You will tend to it as you can. You find a mop and bucket and return. Your legs are quivering from the up and down.
You drag the mop around the puddle outside the open door. You sop it up and twist it into the bucket. As you do, a shadow appears again. Lord Everett scowls from the door.
“I’ll be quick, my lord. Many apologies.”
“The water,” he grits.
“I’ll bring fresh water, my lord.”
His voice crackles in his throat but he stops himself. You notice his thick fingers twiddle at his side. “Very well.” He backs away and leaves the door open. You carry on soaking up your mess. He’ll surely be happy to have Mallory back after her respite.
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