Siri (she/her) ✩ 40s ✩ Writer ✩ Fangirl ✩ Stargazer ✩ Shameless Hoe Queen ✩ Prolific Ruiner of Undergarments ✩ Basement Wifing Enthusiast ✩ Lady of Perpetual Hoeing ✩ Monster Lover ✩ Panty Slayer ✩ Masterlist & side blog for new fic notifications linked in my pinned post ✩ REQUESTS ARE CLOSED ✩ 18+ blog! ✩ Instead of serial liking, reblog or comment to support writers.
Hello! I'm Siri (she/her). Welcome to my blog! I write Chris Evans characters x Fem!Reader fanfic, with a little monster loving fic thrown in. So pull up a chair, have your backup panties on standby, and settle in for some shameless hoeing 😘
Access my masterlist here.
↠ The Full Birthday Experience (Steve Rogers x F!Reader)
↠ A Soft Touch (Andy Barber x F!Reader)
↠ Security Enabled (Steve Rogers x F!Reader)
↠ Down Time (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
↠ Unwelcome (Ari Levinson x F!Reader)
↠ Happy Birthday (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
↠ Unshakeable (Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader x Ari Levinson)
↠ Uninhibited (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
↠ Guard Dog (Pete Brenner x F!Reader x Frank Castle)
↠ Tit for Tat (Curtis Everett x F!Reader)
*This work is a short riff, drabble, or hoe thought vs a longer oneshot or series chapter.
↠ Please do not serial like my work. I put so much time, energy, and love into my writing, and it’s super disheartening and demotivating to watch people breeze through my entire masterlist without dropping a single comment or reblog. Do your part to help our community thrive: support writers and their hard work that you enjoy for free! If you struggle with what to say when commenting/reblogging, check out this post. Just a simple comment or reblog with feedback goes such a long way to keep writers inspired and excited to write and post more! It’s a win win.
↠ Requests are closed, however I am happy to riff and answer questions about my stories, the CE!babes, and monsters, but please do not send me asks about medical conditions or health issues, I find that content triggering.
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↠ Please do not pressure me for fic updates or status check ins. I do not write on a schedule, nor do I adhere to deadlines because it sucks all the fun out of writing for me. I write my stories when I have the time, energy, and inspiration.
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↠ A hoe’s gotta hoe. Go on and ruin your panties with dem filthy fics, and be absolutely shameless about it! Love you! 😘
P.S. Wanna learn more about the Shameless Hoe HQ wet dream team? Read this! 😘
Starting right at midnight, you’d wobble your way from Curtis’ room and find him waiting by his door. He’d scoop you up and place you in a bubble bath, slipping in right behind you. He’d cuddle you up, peppering kisses on your shoulder and neck, behind your ear all while telling you how good you were, how perfect, how sorry he was. He’d melt away the sting on your skin with gentle hands, slipping up and down your body until the water turns cool and you’re a puddle against his chest.
You’d spot a birthday card half opened on his nightstand as you were tucked into his bed, and soon snug against his chest as he held you tight to sleep. You’d murmur a small “happy birthday” against his chest and earn yourself a slight squeeze and pet to the top of your head.
In the morning, you’d wake him by cautiously peeling yourself out of his arms, wanting to keep him asleep just a little while longer and slide yourself down until you could lay between his legs, head resting on the meat of his inner thigh as you reached up to carefully peel back his boxers, cock springing free and resting heavy on his stomach as if he already knew what to expect.
He’d wake with a sleepy moan, deep in his chest as your tongue massaged the head of his cock, letting spit pooling your mouth before letting it run free down his length. Giving it to him exactly how he’d like, lazy and messy. Soon enough, his eyes would flutter open as his hands found your hair, tangling his fingers up as took your time, letting the tip of your tongue map out every vein, every inch, every spot that would make him buck his hips a little and hiss out a strung out; “fuck, baby, yeah, right there.”
As usual, the second he let go, he’d be rambling away, voice low and thick with sleep, rough and quiet. “So good at taking care of your Daddy, hmm? You love making a mess, don’t you, Sugar?”
Soon enough, spit is pooling at the base of his cock, soaking his balls as you sloppily work your mouth up and down his length, Steve absolutely losing it above you, until he uses the grip on your hair to thrust up into your mouth, using your throat as his own personal toy. “Such a good girl, so fucking hard for you, s’all for you, Sugar. Come on, baby, open wide for me. Let Daddy in, sweet thing. Little deeper, you can do it.” He’d gasp and groan as you swallowed around him, throat constricted around his length.
“Gonna let me use that pretty cunt after? Yeah? Exactly how I want? S’my birthday after all, Sugar. Gotta be nice on my day, gotta be so good for Daddy. You’re always so good for me, fuck, fuck fuck.”
You’d rest your head back on the meat of his thigh after he would guide you off his cock, one of his hands gripped your hair while the other hand fisted his cock, spurts of cum landing on your cheek, your open lips and chin. His head would be thrown back as he chanted your name. You’d clean him up with delicate laps of your tongue, wet eyes peering up at him as he cupped your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek.
The favour is quickly returned, Steve would haul you up, your thighs knees either side of his head, hands gripping your hips as he slides his tongue through your folds. Your hands would grip at the headboard, head falling forward as his tongue lapped at your clit, tip of his tongue catching the sensitive bundle over and over again. He’d eventually guide you to actually sit, shamelessly rocking your hips against his open mouth, your hand gripped in his hair, the other splayed over his large hand pawing at your breast. Blue eyes would lock on yours, wordlessly spurring you on.
You’d cum with his name on your lips. “Steve, Steve, Daddy, m’cumming, don’t stop, Daddy. Daddy, fuck.”
The rest of the morning and afternoon would be spent doting on him, despite him whining that he likes taking care of you and that because it’s his birthday he should get to what he wants, and what he wants is to take care of his baby. But you refuse. You tidy up the room, help him shower, change the sheets. You make him coffee while he rattles away on his laptop and perch yourself at his feet, humming happily around his cock that sat heavy on your tongue, whenever his hand cards through your hair.
Later on in the evening, you’d have dinner together. Obviously you can’t go out to a fancy restaurant, so you’d both get all dressed up and have a meal in the dining room which would be scattered in candles and soft, light music. You’d spend the meal with light touches, bumping your foot against his until eventually your hands are bound behind your back, his silk tie in a tight knot around your wrists, his large hand holding your bound wrists as he drives into you. The plates on the table clatter with each thrust, mixing with both of your moans.
“Fucking made for me.” He’d spew, gravel in his voice as he attempted to tame the monster. “Should keep you like this, fuck the others. Keep you ready for me. Daddy’s baby girl, huh? Just mine, yeah? You mine, Sugar? This pussy belongs to Daddy, right? Come on, give me the best present I could ask for, cum on Daddy’s cock, tell me how much you want it.”
As an added bonus: Darker Steve would keep you chained to the bed, bound and gagged. Your legs spread, tied to opposing bed posts for him to use you throughout the day however he wanted. Can’t have you running off, or worse… Running to one of his brothers or uncles. That just won’t do.
I had this thought about your HTHYH verse inspired by July 4… you missing fireworks and just being generally homesick and sad, and Virion uses some fancy alien tech or the like to create a type of fireworks show for you, and sits with you to watch it. But as you’re staring up at the lights all 🥹 Virion’s watching you. 😭
Oooh see, now, this is such a cute idea 🥺
I think it would be a little different than what you’re expecting. We’ve yet to see it in the story, but the atmosphere of the planet is a bit different than Earth’s. With the sky looking the way it does on the planet, fireworks might not be as spectacular as they would be here, if they were shot into the sky.
But you know what they do have on Virion’s planet? Virtual reality and hologram technologies. And I think Virion would be able to set something truly mind blowing up.
They see you’re homesick, they want to make you happy. They prod at what’s got you so upset. They figure it out, easy. After all, their main job is researching humans. You know what they do? They make a special show.
A tablet in their hands, they press on the screen. The lights dim. Color explodes around you. Sparkling and sizzling in the air. You’re in the middle of bright bursting fireworks. Their light painting across your skin. The boom thumping in your chest—not too loud or too overwhelming. The warmth a whisper against your skin. But you’re completely safe. They’re not actually real.
It’s you and Virion. Something personal, thoughtful. Your own fireworks spectacular enrobing you in its light.
You spin in the blooming colors, trying to find each rainbow hue. And instead find Virion. Standing beside you, their hands tucked behind their back. In this hologram world of gorgeous fireworks, staring at you.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,937
Summary: You couldn’t admit that you wanted to make Steve’s birthday special, so instead, you had to put a very you spin on it.
Warnings: A/B/O AU. Explicit language. Mild sexual content. Alpha!Steve. Sassy omega!Reader. Established relationship. Omegaverse dynamic and details (like scenting, mating glands, etc.). Fluff. Feels. Being emotionally constipated. Slight dirty talk.
A/N: Surprise, my lovelies! I’m so happy to join in on @witchywithwhiskey ‘s birthday event for Steeb 🥹 Thank you for hosting and helping me choose which Steve to write, Molly! I hope you enjoy this ❤️
Pound Town Masterlist
Steve turned away from the coffee machine, jumping a little as he found you standing a few feet away, on the other side of the marble kitchen isle, staring at him in a way that was accusatory.
“Who’s sneaking up on who now?” he laughed, his smile faltering as your eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you have something you’d like to tell me, Hercules?” you challenged, your look haughty and knowing and annoyed.
“Um.” Steve frowned in confusion, his eyes glinting with concern as they flickered between yours.
After a moment, you saw something in his gaze shift, his jaw setting slightly as this look of now-or-never sort of determination glimmered in his eyes, making a surge of panic swell within you.
Because oh my god, that wasn’t what you meant!
So before Steve could open his mouth and say something you were not yet ready to hear, you beat him to it, tossing a piece of opened mail on the counter.
Steve blinked down at it, frowning once more as he glanced between you and the paper before him. “...my driver’s license renewal card?”
You huffed, leaning closer and stabbing your finger at the date of birth printed on the card stock. “Your birthday is in a few weeks! And you haven’t mentioned it at all!”
“Oh.” Steve’s big, broad shoulders lifted as he gave you a sheepish look, a rosy flush staining his cheeks and working its way to the tips of his ears. “I just… didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“Well what if I want to?” you glared at him. “You were just going to rob me of the full birthday experience?” You made something close to jazz hands that had Steve choking down a laugh because you did seem genuinely irritated by this. “That’s so selfish of you, Hercules,” you finished with a huff, crossing your arms for good measure.
Even though he was able to suppress his laughter, Steve wasn’t able to do the same with his smile. He grinned big, blue eyes twinkling with a very fond sort of mirth as he rounded the counter and pulled you into his arms.
“You’re right, omega, I’m the worst.”
“Truly!” you nodded in agreement, your own lips twitching as Steve interlocked his hands at the small of your back and kissed your cheek.
“Next year, I’ll be sure to set monthly reminders for you about my birthday so it’s always top of mind,” Steve murmured, kissing your other cheek. “It won’t be obnoxious at all.”
You nearly giggled, but were able to maintain your stink eye as you gave him an unimpressed look. “You better,” you hmphed, realizing your mistake a second after you spoke.
That you didn’t object to the fact that you would still be here–with Steve–a year from now.
You hadn’t really thought much about the future since you were a young omega, still brimming with hope and not yet beat down by the state of the world.
But now… after months of being in Steve’s orbit, of… whatever this was between you–because you still weren’t ready to admit that you were together–the thought of this whole thing not being temporary, of it being your future, of Steve being your future…
Well, it was an idea that you didn’t hate.
You could tell by the warmth and softness in Steve’s gaze that he was thinking along the same lines as you, but again, you just couldn’t with what ifs, and big feelings, and more.
Not yet.
“So,” you cleared your throat, pretending to fiddle with the collar of Steve’s t-shirt so you could escape his intese gaze for a moment. “What would the perfect birthday look like to you?”
Steve was quiet for a moment, for more than a moment, and you felt a swirl of anxiety in your stomach, worried that you had upset him by side-stepping the almost emotional landmine.
But when you peeked up at him, Steve’s gaze was just as warm and soft as a moment ago, and he was giving you a small, boyish smile as he replied, “I think I have an idea that we’ll both enjoy.”
A few weeks later, on Steve’s birthday, his idea came to fruition, and for the first time in a very long time–maybe ever–you really were getting the full birthday experience, even if it wasn’t your birthday.
But that didn’t make it any less perfect.
Because Steve had driven you upstate to a small lake house in the middle of the woods.
You couldn’t remember the last time you had been out of the city, and it truly felt like a slice of heaven to be surrounded by nature and quiet and have Steve all to yourself on his special day.
His special day was just part of the week-long vacation he had surprised you with, and he really had planned it all so perfectly. The fridge and pantry were stocked with your favorite prepped foods and takeout, so neither of you would need to cook. And he had gotten a cute little birthday cake, along with lots of other treats, from his favorite bakery.
And now, you were both enjoying the gorgeous tranquility around you, as you and Steve sat on the dock out back of the house, watching the sun set over the lake.
You gave a quiet sigh of contentment as you sank back in the circle of Steve’s arms, allowing your head to fall to the side as his nose skimmed up the side of your throat as he took his time scenting you.
It was actually the first time you two had ever done this–scenting outside of sex–and you didn’t hate it. You were kind of obsessed with it to be honest.
In fact, you had never been so squirmy in your life, your mind pleasantly hazy and quiet for once as you gave a soft chirp when Steve pressed a kiss to your unmarked mating gland.
“You smell so good, omega,” he murmured against your skin, inhaling deeply and purring with satisfaction as he basked in your scent. “You always do.”
Your inner omega chirped up a storm, loving Steve’s attention and admiration as you turned your face so you could nuzzle his nose with yours.
Steve kissed you gently, his eyes so soft and happy as he told you, “This really is the perfect birthday.” His lips touched yours again, lingering this time before he pulled away and breathed, “Thank you, omega. I mean it.”
As he often was, Steve was so earnest in his words and feelings, but something about the sheer affection for you that was coloring his alpha scent had you feeling shy, and a little cranky to be honest.
Because you were still getting used to how much Steve made you feel and want, even after knowing him for months. But you shoved down the minor flare of irritation that you knew was a defense mechanism, because you would not be bitchy with Steve on his birthday.
So instead, you playfully rolled your eyes, murmuring, “You’re such a sap.”
“Only for you,” Steve grinned.
Your scent spiked with your own joy–and something wanting–and he huffed a laugh.
He leaned in and kissed your mating gland, laughing again as you squealed and tried to squirm away, overwhelmed by how sensitive that part of you was, especially under Steve’s attention.
“How do you like it?” he rumbled, eyes twinkling as you huffed and twisted in his hold to glare at him.
For a moment, you just gave him the best stink eye you could muster, and then, you pounced.
Of course you knew that Steve was letting you “attack” him as he fell back against the dock and took you with him. But that didn’t make it any less silly or fun as you wrestled with him until you straddled his hips and had his hands pinned above his head, preening your victory.
“Well now that you’ve got me, what are you gonna do with me?” Steve husked, his eyes noticeably darker as you hovered over him.
For probably the millionth time, you were nearly struck dumb by how gorgeous Steve was. His skin smooth and flawless, his golden hair gleaming in the setting sun and now perfectly mussed. And his eyes–those pretty blue eyes–so expressive as he watched you, as he waited for whatever you deemed came next.
For a long, quiet moment, you just stared at each other, and then your eyes flickered down to another feature of his that you sure did love–those plump pink lips.
Those plump, pink, kissable lips.
“I have a few ideas,” you finally replied before swooping close and capturing his lips with yours.
Steve groaned into your mouth as you traded pinning his wrists for framing his face between your hands. You made your own sound of delight when you felt his touch at your hips, his fingers pressing into you, holding you tight and urging your body against his even more.
Your lips teased and tasted until both you and Steve were breathless, and when you finally pulled back enough to raggedly inhale a gulp of air, you paused for a beat, your eyes dancing as you said, “I want smores.”
“I want more too,” Steve immediately returned. His big hand cradled your cheek and tried to reel you back in for another kiss, but you pulled away.
Giggling as you sat up over him, you shook your head, lips curled into a playful smirk as you tutted, “Keep it in your pants, Hercules. I want smores. You promised we’d make them using that little fire pit on the back deck.”
For a long moment, Steve just stared up at you, uncomprehending, gaping. And it was nearly enough to make you cackle, but then he blinked owlishly, his brain rebooting, and he didn’t look disappointed at all as he said, “Oh. Right.” Instead, he gave your hips a squeeze, his grin boyish as he continued, “I’ll go set it up now.”
You couldn’t help the dreamy sigh that bubbled past your lips as Steve helped you to your feet. Because he really was so good, so perfect.
And he was all yours.
Preening for a different reason now, you looped your arm through Steve’s, pressing close to his side as you two began to slowly walk back up the dock.
You felt mischievous as you glanced over and drank in the still flushed state of Steve’s cheeks, the way his lips were still kiss swollen, too.
“After smores, then I’ll give you more,” you teased, shooting Steve a wicked grin. “You can spend the rest of my night fucking me full of your cum and keeping me on your knot, birthday boy.”
Steve tripped over his own feet, making you burst into laughter as you grabbed onto him to help steady his steps, enjoying the way his flush deepened for an entirely different reason now as he shot you a stink eye.
“You’re such a menace," he muttered, but he was already grinning again as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you flush against him. “But you’re my menace.”
“Well happy birthday to you,” you chimed, laughing into Steve’s side as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
He held you just a little bit tighter as he murmured against your hair, “You’re the best birthday present ever,” rumbling his content as you caught his hand with yours, twined your fingers together, and stayed tucked close as you cleared the dock and made your way back to the lake house.
—
Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, so please don’t do that. It only takes a moment to show a little love. Thank you 🙏🏻
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. I also do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI platforms. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️
How do you think Steve would feel about a newer girlfriend befriending the other Avengers? Excited? Nervous? Jealous?
Aw I think he’d be very happy about it! I love the HC of the Avengers being a sort of found family for Stevie, so the fact that you’re making the effort to get to know them—his people—would make him very 🥹 But he definitely wants to throat punch Tony without the suit any time he hits on you 🤣
Pairing: Andy Barber x Female!Reader
Word Count: 4,683
Summary: It was hard to believe that once upon a time, Andy Barber was a stranger to you. Because now? Now he was your everything, just like you were his.
Warnings: Mob AU. Explicit language. Established relationship. Flashback. Mob boss!Andy. Reader is a delicate thing with a rough history. Boss/employee relations. Reference to non-con touching. Touch avoidant. Allusions to past abuse and forced sex work. But also a good amount of fluff and affection tbh.
A/N: I am beyond tickled that this Andy won my recent poll. He’s the one I’ve been most eager to write, but there are so many other stories and babes that I know deserve my attention, so it was hard to commit to him. Thank you for giving me an excuse to indulge and also expand this verse. I hope you enjoy this ❤️
P.S. Andy made his debut in mob enforcer!Ari’s story, but you don’t need to read that to read this.
It was getting to be that time of day when you were starting to flag.
As hard as you worked, as supportive and helpful as you wanted to be–especially to Andy–your brain could only handle so much.
Especially when you were running on barely a few hours of sleep last night.
So you finished the final must do on your list for the day, closing your laptop with a small swell of relief as you rose from your seat at the small table in the corner of Andy’s home office.
It was one of your favorite rooms in the manor, and not just because you spent so much time here with Andy. The decor was traditional–and expensive–a myriad of dark woods and butter-smooth leather. The walls were lined with built-in shelves, stacked with books and dotted with expensive pieces of decor, and even some antiques that probably cost more money than your brain could comprehend.
But your favorite personal touch were the two pieces of framed artwork hanging behind Andy’s desk. They were abstract and colorful, and each time you got swept away staring at them, you swore your eyes gleaned a completely new shape or scene or meaning behind them.
Andy once told you the story of how he had won them in a bidding war at an antique auction after months of tracking down any artwork he could find by his late mother’s favorite artist.
It seemed like such a small thing about himself that he had shared with you–but it showed the kind of man that Andy Barber was.
Devoted. Determined. Strategic. Patient when it counted most.
And never willing to give up.
You smiled as you slowly made your way to where he sat hunched over his executive desk, still deep in his own work despite the approach of early evening.
It was traits like his devotion and patience that had finally won you over completely–despite how gun-shy you had been at the mere idea of anything more with Andy.
With anyone, really, given your history.
But even you couldn’t deny that the more you got to know Andy, the more time you had spent with him, the more the thought of something more had taken root in your brain and began to flourish.
And now here you were.
Clocking your proximity, Andy finally pulled his eyes from his computer screen, straightening in his leather-back chair. His gaze softened as it landed on you, his lips tilting up at the corners into your favorite smile.
“All done for the day?” he asked, pushing his seat back and making room for you, because he knew you well.
So Andy didn’t bat an eye when you nodded in response to his question before slowly sinking to the floor, until you were sat between his feet and resting your cheek against his knee with a soft sound of contentment.
“I rescheduled your meetings for tomorrow to next week, like you asked,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering as Andy reached out and began to gently pet your head. “And I ordered flowers for Ari’s mother for her birthday next week, too.”
“Thank you, honey,” Andy murmured, his fingers teasing along the shell of your ear and making you shiver. “You take such good care of me, of all of us. I bet you even reminded Ari of his mother’s birthday, just to be safe.”
Your cheeks warmed, because Andy was right, and his tone was so fond colored with the kind of tenderness–just for you–that made your insides swoop and flutter. You hid your face against his leg, your insides fluttering some more at the sound of Andy’s quiet, husky laugh.
But speaking of Ari, something tickled your brain, something that made you frown as you tilted your face up and opened your eyes, your gaze shining with worry.
“How are things with the art gallery?” you asked. “Is the business owner next door still causing you trouble?”
Andy’s eyes danced at the mention of the woman who owned the tea and bookshop next door to his new business. “She’s nothing to fret over, honey. Ari’s taking care of her.”
At that, you nervously gnawed on your lower lip. As much as you had come to accept the fact that Andy was a mob boss–and sometimes had to do ruthless, unsavory things–he treated you so well, and was so loving, that it wasn’t an issue for you.
In fact, it provided a sense of security that you had never known until Andy–the fact that you now had such a powerful and competent protector.
But still… you didn’t like the idea of Ari hurting anyone, of the things you were sure he had done and was capable of doing. No matter how respectful and protective he was of you.
You didn’t wish his dark intentions on anyone, even someone who had proven to be a thorn in Andy’s side from day one.
But then again, given the rivals and competition he usually dealt with, this woman’s antics were almost… charming.
“Don’t look so worried,” Andy hummed, gently caressing your cheek. “He’s dealing with her in a way I’m quite certain she enjoys.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh.” Your eyes widened enough to make Andy laugh. “Well… good. I know the gallery is your pet project and the first business that you’re genuinely excited for.”
“And it’s the perfect front for arms dealing, which drives the most revenue, so really it’s a win win.”
You hummed in agreement, once again sinking against Andy as he continued his light touches and caresses. His fingers danced along the tension in your shoulders, moving slower and pressing firmly, until you were making a quiet sound of relief as the knots of tension seemed to melt away into nothing.
“You slept fitfully last night,” Andy said.
You nodded, leaning into the cradle of Andy’s palm that now rested against your cheek. He tilted your face up so he could get a better look at you, observing the shadows beneath your eyes with a small frown and furrowed brow.
“More nightmares?” he asked.
This time you hesitated, but only briefly, before nodding again.
You didn’t hesitate because you wanted to hide your struggles from Andy, or because you were embarrassed he had of course noticed the state of you, but more so just because you hated to think about your nightmares, and the things from your past that caused them.
At your admission, and the way your shoulders hunched and curled just a little, Andy’s touch instantly became more intentional. His hand moved to grip the back of your neck, squeezing in that way he knew melted your brain and made all of your anxiety dissipate.
Of their own accord, your hands lifted so you could cling to Andy’s thighs, pressing your forehead against his knee and nearly curling around his leg like a koala–greedy for his touch.
Even after all this time, you still couldn’t believe it, the way Andy’s touch affected you–in a good way. That you loved it and often needed it now.
Because there had been a time when you thought that you would never enjoy the touch of another again…
18 Months Ago
“Another month in the green,” Andy said, sounding pleased as he scrolled through the financial slides on the tablet he held.
“Bet you’re fucking tickled that you went all in on the club with me,” Lloyd Hansen preened, sinking back in his desk chair and giving Andy a shit-eating grin. “I told you this would be a money maker. There’s nothing like it for miles and miles.”
Andy hummed, setting the tablet on Lloyd’s desk, his face serious as he eyed the other man. “And I bet you’re fucking tickled that I gave you permission to set up shop in my territory.”
Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you made me work for it and go in halfsies with you, so.”
“You’re welcome,” Andy smirked.
Lloyd scoffed, opening his mouth to likely fire back something Andy would make him regret, but before he could speak a word, his office door flung open and you were forcefully shoved inside.
You squealed as Lloyd’s head of club security–the brute–gave you another shove that had you nearly face planting into the thick, expensive carpet.
“Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t to be interrupted?” Lloyd snarled at said brute.
“Sorry, boss,” he grunted, giving you a lethal glare, “but she caused a scene out on the floor.”
Lloyd’s eyes snapped to you so quickly that you flinched.
“Did she?” The chill in his voice had you cowering in dread as the security guy quickly ducked out of the office, pulling the door closed as he went and shutting you away with your prickly boss.
You were too terrified of Lloyd, and too distressed after what had happened out on the night club floor, to notice the stranger sitting across from Lloyd’s desk.
“This is the thanks I get for hiring your cry baby ass?” Lloyd hissed as he rose from his seat.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you quavered as he rounded his desk and stalked closer. “But… I, I told you, I don’t like to be touched and one of the men out there, he grabbed me and–”
Lloyd didn’t stop his approach until he stood toe-to-toe with you, causing you to visibly tremble as you hugged yourself tightly and kept your head ducked low, your eyes fixed on your feet.
“You’re in a fucking night club, toots, dressed like that, might I add–“ Lloyd scoffed.
“You made me–“ you countered weakly.
“It’s called a work uniform.”
You thought that was a stretch as you eyed your outfit which wasn’t much more than a pair of metallic booty shorts and a sorry excuse for a shirt that nearly had your breasts spilling out the top.
And you weren’t even one of the cage dancers, you were just a server.
“You told me you needed this job, that you were desperate for work,” Lloyd growled.
At that, your head lifted, your gaze frantic as it met Lloyd’s. “I am, I do! Please, I’m sorry–“
Lloyd shook his head. “I can’t have you out there causing a scene anytime the clientele gets a little handsy. That’s part of the job. I mean, what the fuck did you think you were getting into working here?”
“Please, sir, I need this job. I don’t have anything else or anyone or–”
“Oh boo fucking hoo,” Lloyd sneered, dipping his head close and making you recoil. “I gave you a chance. I was more than generous. You get paid well. You get benefits. And this is how you thank me?”
Your chest hitched, a sob working its way up to your throat, because he was right. You had been so obviously out of your depth when you had shown up here for your interview, but you had also been beyond desperate for the gig, for a steady income, to survive.
And now you had gone and fucked it all up because you couldn’t just do what all the other servers did and acclimate to your environment.
“Get out,” Lloyd enunciated slowly before straightening. “And don’t come back.”
“No! Please!” Your voice was pitched with hysteria as panic flared within you.
Because you couldn’t lose this job.
“I can… I can do something else! Anything else!” you cried, trailing behind Lloyd as he turned his back on you and sauntered toward his desk. “I can tend bar or or do inventory or–”
He whirled on you suddenly, making you squeak as you walked right into him and then sharply drew back as if you’d been burnt.
There was a mean glint in Lloyd’s eyes as they slowly trailed over you, in a familiar way that had your belly sinking and your skin crawling.
“The only other use I have for you wouldn’t be ideal since you don’t like being touched, cupcake.” Lloyd made a lewd gesture with his fingers and tongue to get his point across, giving a mean laugh as you hugged yourself tightly and stumbled away from him. “That’s what I thought. I have no use for you. You’re useless. So get fucking gone.”
He turned away, clearly dismissing you, his words reverberating in your head loud enough to drown out all of your panicked thoughts.
Because you were useless.
Your tears finally fell as your devastation consumed you. You would be out of your shitty apartment within weeks if you couldn’t make rent. You’d be back on the streets, needing to do whatever it took just to get by.
You shuddered with dread just thinking about it. Especially in this city.
But you had nowhere else to go. No one to turn to.
You had nothing.
You were nothing.
“GET OUT!” Lloyd’s holler made you snap back to the present moment.
You physically jumped at his raised voice, whimpering before turning on your heel to scurry out of his office, but a quiet, unfamiliar baritone made you freeze in place.
“Wait.”
Lloyd huffed. “Really, Barber? You’re undermining me in my own club?”
“Our club. And I’m not undermining you. Just because you don’t have a use for her, Hansen, doesn’t mean I don’t.”
The tiniest, weakest flare of hope flickered within you as you turned and looked at the man who spoke, not nearly as bold in your gaze as he was.
Even though he was seated, you could tell that he was tall, his posture straight and confident, his shoulders broad beneath the dark suit jacket he wore. His skin was fair and flawless, his face shadowed with a dark, meticulously kept beard that matched the floofy swoop of his brown hair.
But it was his dark blue eyes that made your own gaze linger, and widen.
Because you realized that the stranger wasn’t watching you with a lecherous look like most men you’d come into contact with. His gaze was shining with something new and unfamiliar–sympathy, and calculation.
“Take her out to the car,” he nodded, and another man you didn’t even notice until now materialized from the dark corner of the office.
He was the biggest, broadest man in the room. His hair dark and long enough to curl around his blue, denim shirt collar. He was so big, in fact, that when he stepped toward you, you whimpered again, cowering at the sheer size of him.
“He won’t hurt you,” the stranger with the pretty blue eyes promised. “Go on. We’ll speak once I’m done here.”
You swallowed hard–nervously–but you were nodding before you even realized it, your body picking up on the softness in his tone and gaze before your brain did.
It made zero sense, especially given your history, but you trusted him, instinctively.
So you turned, grateful when the man you assumed was his bodyguard didn’t touch you as he corralled you out of the office and down the back hallway of the club.
Once you were tucked away in the dark, luxurious SUV parked out back, your mind started to spiral again, all the frantic noise inside your head blaring on a loop.
What were you doing?
You didn’t even know this man.
If he was in business with Lloyd, you couldn’t imagine he was much better.
But then you remembered the softness in his voice when he spoke to you. In his gaze when he looked at you.
He saw your fear and desperation and it seemed like maybe he actually wanted to help you.
Lord knew you could use that right about now.
You were startled from your thoughts as the back door opened and the stranger appeared, climbing in beside you. You noticed how he seemed intentional in keeping some distance between you–in respecting your personal space.
It was such a far cry from Lloyd and pretty much every other man you had ever met, that you felt a lump swell in your throat, and you had to look away from his intent gaze to blink the tears from your own.
“What’s your name?” he asked gently.
You took a breath, peeking over at him as you murmured your name.
He gave you a small smile, introducing himself in return. “I’m Andy Barber, it’s a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.”
Your lips trembled into an almost hopeful smile.
“You need work?”
You nodded fervently, so much so that you made yourself dizzy as you breathed, “Yes, sir.”
“Do you have any skills or notable experience?” Andy asked.
And just like that–you wilted.
Because you didn’t. You barely had an education, and your resume was laughable–just a string of odd jobs that never lasted long, and the kind of years-long gap that would make any eyebrow raise.
The only thing you had to offer was what Lloyd alluded to back in his office.
Yourself. Your body.
But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t. Not again. Not even if it was your choice this time.
You wouldn’t, you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t.
Andy’s quiet voice broke through your internal spiral–your mindless mental chant–as he told you, “You know, I didn’t start out at the top. I came from nothing. But someone with means saw potential in me. They gave me a chance. So I’m willing to do the same for you.”
And there it was again, that tiny flicker of hope sparking to life in the deep recesses of your tarnished soul.
“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’m very good at reading people, and I think you’re someone capable of loyalty, and that I prize most above all. Skills can be taught, knowledge can be gleaned, but loyalty? Trust? Those are innate and of the utmost value, especially in my world.”
You looked at Andy again and couldn't help but shiver. His poise, his confidence, his direct gaze.
You weren’t quite sure who he was, but you knew that you had somehow stumbled your way into the path of someone important. Someone powerful.
Someone who maybe, if you earned his trust, if you made him proud, he would keep you safe.
And that, to you, was of the utmost value.
So you took a deep, shaky breath before whispering, “I can be loyal.” You swallowed before continuing, “And I can work real hard, no matter what you ask of me,” your voice faltered. “Except… I don’t… please, I’m not–“
Despite your fumbling, Andy seemed to understand where your mind had gone. What fear overtook you now.
You saw him reach for you–perhaps his intention was a comforting touch–but he must have remembered you didn’t like to be touched, because he pulled up short and his hand retreated, resting on his thigh instead.
“That isn’t what this is,” he said gently.
“Okay,” you squeaked, sinking beneath the weight of your relief. “Good. T-thank you.”
You peeked over at him again, feeling unsure but also a little mesmerized. Because Andy Barber was beyond handsome. In fact, he was beautiful, but his eyes… your gaze couldn’t stop returning to his and the softness that resided there.
No one had ever looked at you that way before.
Without vile or cruel intentions aimed your way. Without malice or greed. Without the promise of pain, or worse. So much worse.
“Well, this seems pretty cut and dry to me, and genuinely the most pleasant interview process I’ve ever experienced,” Andy said. “So, you’re hired.” He winked, looking delighted when that got a quiet giggle out of you.
But the sound of your amusement cut off abruptly as the car began to move, and you jolted upright, panicked.
“Relax,” Andy soothed, his fingers twitching against his thigh like he was once again resisting the urge to reach out with a comforting touch. “We’re just driving you home, and then you can come to my place tomorrow and we can discuss how you can best support me,” Andy explained. “Where do you live?”
You didn’t respond for a moment, not so much because you didn’t trust him–didn’t know him–but because you were embarrassed by the answer. But after a beat, you gave it to him anyway.
Andy didn’t wrinkle his nose in disgust or make a judgmental remark like Lloyd had when he read your address on your new hire paperwork. He just relayed the address to his bodyguard, who was driving, before sitting back in his seat.
“Would you be open to relocating?” Andy asked, clearly taking you by surprise. “If I have you assisting me daily, it makes the most sense for you to live on my property.”
“I…” you hesitated, not wanting to spoil this gift so soon after receiving it.
Especially since you had no other prospects.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you said carefully.
Andy’s eyes sparkled at your diplomatic answer. “You wouldn’t be. Most of my staff have quarters at my manor. Like Ari,” he nodded toward the beefy man in the driver’s seat. “Same with my personal chef and butler.”
“Oh,” you murmured, nervously wringing your hands together in your lap.
Because it seemed like Andy had a whole staff under his employ. Not to mention a manor.
Again, you couldn’t help but wonder who he was, whose orbit you had been drawn into.
“Can I think about it, please?” You asked, not wanting to give up all of your minimal autonomy at once.
Not wanting to make what could be a very life-changing decision before you knew Andy better.
“Of course,” he replied easily. “I can show you around tomorrow to help inform your decision. How does that sound?”
“Very generous.”
Andy shot you a small smile, and your belly swooped at the sight before you quickly looked away, your leg jiggling with nerves as Ari steered the SUV onto your street.
The vehicle eased to a stop at the curb just outside of your dingy apartment building, and you found yourself unable to look at Andy–to risk seeing the pity in his eyes.
“Here, why don’t we exchange numbers?” Andy suggested, fishing his cell phone from his inner jacket pocket.
You pulled your own dated device from your back pocket, quickly fulfilling his request before clutching your phone between your sweaty palms.
“I’ll send a driver to pick you up tomorrow at eight thirty, does that work for you?” Andy asked.
“Yes, but you don’t need to,“ you objected. “I can take the bus, or–”
“It’s a safety precaution on my end,” Andy assured you. “I don’t give out my home address to many. Not in my line of work.”
He winked to make light of something serious, and you once again found yourself wondering what–exactly–was Andy’s line of work?
What were you getting yourself into?
But you just as quickly shook that thought away, because this opportunity–Andy’s kindness–it was all you had, and it was truly a gift.
No one had ever done something like this for you before, had given you a chance, a helping hand in a moment when you needed it most.
And you wouldn’t waste it.
So you nodded, mustering a smile despite your anxiety as you told Andy, “I’ll be ready tomorrow at eight thirty.”
“Perfect,” he smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
He watched as you opened the car door and slipped outside, hesitating before you turned back to him. Because a new feeling was overriding your nerves now.
Gratitude.
You felt so very thankful for this unexpected opportunity. For Andy’s empathy and belief in you.
You weren’t used to getting help or lucky breaks.
You weren’t used to anyone caring about you in any way at all.
It must have been written all over your face too, all these thoughts swirling inside of you, because Andy’s features softened as he watched you, another one of those small smiles cursing his lips.
“Go get some rest, honey, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Your belly swooped at the term of endearment, and you lingered for a moment, wishing you were good with words, that you could articulate how grateful you were, how much this meant to you. But you finally settled on a very earnest, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”
“No need to thank me. And call me ‘Andy.’”
Your insides fluttered at his request, and you nodded. “Goodnight, Andy.”
“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching your retreat.
Despite the way you hurried up the front steps and into the entryway, the SUV seemed in no rush to depart, instead idling at the curb until you were safely inside.
You scurried up the four flights of stairs to your unit in a daze, your brain trying to process everything that happened tonight. You were out of your new job at the club, but it seemed like something better could be awaiting you.
Thanks to Andy.
You were terrified to really get your hopes up, because so rarely did things go your way, but this time, weirdly, the excitement–and anticipation to see Andy again–was something you just couldn’t shake…
“Come here, honey.”
The sound of Andy’s voice brought you back to the present moment, your hazy mind surfacing from one of the few pleasant memories you had.
Blinking owlishly, you glanced up to find Andy watching you in soft amusement, his big hand held out toward you.
You slipped your hand into his, allowing Andy to pull you first to your feet, then into his lap.
His arms circled you in an instant, tugging you close as his lips pressed a kiss to your forehead. As you went pliant against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, he murmured, “We’re going away for a long weekend.”
Your head snapped up in surprise. “We are?”
Andy smiled as he caressed your cheek. “Well, as long as you want to, but it’s why I had you clear my calendar tomorrow. I think some peace, quiet, and nature will do you good.”
You couldn’t suppress your giddy smile if you tried. “We’re going to the lake house then?”
Andy’s smile was more of a grin as he nodded, “I know it’s your favorite.”
“Thank you, Andy!” you squealed, nearly bouncing in his lap as you hugged him and pressed a kiss to his beardy cheek.
Andy’s eyes twinkled at your sweet excitement. As you went to pull away, his fingers caught your chin, staying your retreat as his eyes ignited in a way that had a surge of warmth pooling low in your belly.
Slowly, his gaze meeting yours and not shying away, Andy pulled you in for a real kiss. The kind of kiss that made it impossible to catch your breath because you could feel with each and every press of Andy’s lips against yours how much he loved you, cherished you, wanted you.
You were nearly panting once he pulled away, your eyes dazed enough to make him smile.
“You never need to thank me for taking care of you,” Andy hummed, touching his lips to your forehead. “For treating you the way you deserve.” His next kiss warmed your cheek, then he placed a final kiss on the other before pulling away at last. “Why don’t you go pack?”
“I will, in a little while, but first, can we just…” You sank against him, loosely clinging to him as you nuzzled your cheek against his chest. “Stay like this for a little while?”
“We can stay this way for as long as you want,” Andy promised, his big hand touching your back before settling into a slow, soothing rhythm–up and down, up and down–making you go even more pliant against him.
Humming your content, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, truly feeling your exhaustion for the first time all day.
But you felt something else alongside it, something that–once upon a time, but not so long ago–you never would have thought you would ever feel…
As Andy’s soft, musky scent filled your nose, as his warm, reassuring touch smoothed up and down your back, as you tucked your face against the crook of his neck and breathed in as deep, you felt truly and unequivocally safe.
🥹 You guysss. I love them SO hard. I would be so beyond grateful and delighted if you took a moment to drop me a comment or reblog with your thoughts. Pretty please! With a naked Andy and Ari on top?! 😘
—
Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, so please don’t do that. It only takes a moment to show a little love. Thank you 🙏🏻
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. I also do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI platforms. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! ❤️
Being delivered to mafia Steve as a birthday present - with a pretty bow (and nothing else)
Oh yesssss 🥴😮💨🫠
I’m imagining you kneeling on the floor in the middle of his study, trembling and silently crying as you hug yourself and try to cover as much of your nudity as possible.
You can’t help but recoil when Steve’s fingers tickle along your bare shoulder as he slowly circles you—the penultimate predator.
He tuts at your attempted retreat from his touch as he comes to a stop in front of you. His fingers catch beneath your chin, not only to tilt your tear-stained face up, forcing you to meet his gaze, but to reel you in closer, too, so you’re only inches away from his pelvis.
“You’ll learn very quickly not to try to run away from me, sweetheart… I don’t take kindly to defiance, no matter how small the act.” His touch was surprisingly gentle as he drew his knuckles down your cheek. “And something tells me that a delicate thing like you wouldn’t be very good at enduring my brand of punishment.”
You shudder at the steel in Steve’s voice, the hard glint in his eyes.
His outright threat.
Your breath hitches on an aborted sob as he drags you even closer to him, until your face is pressed against the growing bulge at the front of his slacks.
But this time, you don’t try to pull away. Swallowing down your tears, you force yourself to go pliant and sink against him even more.
Steve huffs a quiet, delighted laugh, his voice much warmer now as he coos, “Good girl.”
What’s something Steve might hope/wish for for his birthday but not ask for?
I think what he’d want most is for it to not be a spectacle. For it to just be his day to do what he enjoys, in private, and not be used as another method of PR or the like 🥺😭 But I think he also knows that he could use it as an opportunity to do good, like maybe raise money for a local animal shelter, or some kind of volunteer event.
So he would need you to fake basement husband him and have him under lock and key (and maybe suck his cock until he can’t rub together two brain cells) and take charge to make his day about him and very, very pleasant 🤭
So. Steve is this goody-two-shoes who cannot do wrong. Totally vanilla. Like he can grow vanilla pods from his delectable ass. That's what you told after one training session to Natasha, who choked on her water and laughed so hard, she literally felt from the bench. Steve sat very still at the other part off the dressing room, his workout clothes lying limp in his hand. Then he smiled, not the American Golden Boyscout fake smile, but the smirk of the man who never backed down from the challenge. And usually won.
Oh hoe hoe 🥴
Not only would Steve downright annihilate you that very evening and make you eat your words, along with choking on his cock, he would make sure to be a troll about it too.
Once he has you brainless and boneless, ass up and face down as you drool into the sheets, he tugs your cheeks apart and nuzzles along your rim, grinning against your heated skin as you whine and try to squirm away.
“Looks like I’m not the only one with a delectable ass. Now let’s have a taste.”
you and Steve are stuck in a heatwave in Brooklyn, how are you keeping cool? (or are you cranking up the a/c and heating things up 😏)
💕 - @witchywithwhiskey
@witchywithwhiskey Oh gosh can I relate to this as my location is currently sweltering and it’s ungodly 🥲
I imagine you’d be dressed in nothing more than your thinnest sundress, and even that feels like too much. The a/c is cranked as high as it can go and on the lowest temperature as you sprawl on the sofa and fantasize about living in Alaska or the like.
At first you think the tickle against your ankle is the breeze from the a/c, but when it grows more insistent, you glance over to the other side of the sofa, to where Steve sits with your legs thrown over his lap, watching you with a look that can only be described as eye fucking.
“Noooo,” you whine as his fingers walk up the length of your bare calf and caress along the back of your knee. “Steve, it’s too hot for sex.”
“Promise I’ll make it worth it,” he husks, his fingers trailing higher, until they’re teasing along the front of your panties and making you squirm.
Huffing as you feel a gush instantly ruin the thin cotton, you glare at him as you allow your legs to fall open in invitation, an invitation that comes with your most unamused stink eye.
“Good girl,” Steve grins before pushing your legs open even wider and settling himself between your thighs for a gooood long while.
Let’s say there is a 40-ish year old woman who is kinda clueless about all this hero thing and doesn’t really know what Captain America looks like.
She only sees this young man who seems sweet and shy so she decides to try her luck thinking he is young and inexperienced…and maybe he is not that much. And he is touch starved. So much. He wants to be touched and he needs to touch. (But not in a dark way)
Ohhhh Steeeb 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 TOUCH HIM AND GIVE HIM ALL THE LOVE!!! 😤
I could actually see Steve really enjoying being with someone who is totally clueless about who he is. He can just be Steve, yanno? 🥺 Really takes off a lot of pressure.
But this touch starved babe! Hoely moly. I have the most vivid picture in my mind of him sinking to his knees as you sit on the sofa before him, wrapping his arms around you and just burying his face against your stomach. Gives a fully body shudder as you start to gently rake your fingers through his hair and caress along his neck. He’s just starved for this kind of affecfion 😭
In the honor of his birthday and the obscene pictures you sent me, a thot:
the first time you see Nomad Steve's cock 🤭
I think because I’m tired and in a silly mood (which you very well know from our DMs 🤣), the first thing that popped into my mind was being a human disaster and so O_O and like, “Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.” 🤣🤣🤣
Even jaded nomad daddy would crack a smile at that reaction.
Eases you back onto the mattress and covers your body with his, making sure the heavy weight of his cock drags along your bare stomach—leaving a trail of precum—as he ducks close and murmurs, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make it fit.”
I saw these on twitter earlier, a new skin or whatever for Steve on marvels rivals - but who cares when we see just how HUNG he is. Anywho, I thought of you 😂 enjoy!
HAHAHAHAHA I cannot put into words how much I love the fact that this made you think of me 🤣💀
But also, Jesus Christ. He’s not only gonna poke an eye out with that thing, he’s gonna take out an entire city block 💀💀💀💀💀
Also, hi, birthday twin! Hope you’re doing well. Sending you lots of love and goodness 🦁❤️
Do you have any birthday thots for 3 of my favorite Steves?
TTD!Steve
Enforcer!Steve
Inferno!Steve
🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
Well, to be honest, all those thots include being Steve's treat for his birthday 🤭but let's be real here, that's exactly what you were hoping for, anyway.
TTD Steve isn't reluctant when it comes to celebrating his birthday, so he'll agree to a party in his name at Stark's club, or simply the few of his most trusted people coming over with crates of alcohol and gifts in form of bloodied victories in his name. But the best treat is you - at his side, trying to play your composed Princess persona who doesn't fit in it and was forced into this life, yet you're so strained in readiness to be defiled by him. Steve gave himself the best gift when he opened the little box and told you to get on your hands and knees on your marital bed before you left for the party. The plug he got you was black, finished with black sapphires that catch light in a myriad of sparks. And he's going to keep sneaking his hand beneath the skirt of your dress, teasing your puffy folds and tapping on the plug while you're surrounded by people. Later, you're going to ride him, with the plug still in your tight ass, and singing broken moans instead of Happy Birthday.
Enforcer Steve starts his special day in his favorite way - spreading you open and feasting on your sweet pussy. Lifting his gaze up to look at you from between your thighs turns him on even more now, because your rounded belly is in his line of vision. He's already calculating that next year he could celebrate his birthday by knocking you up on that day. But honestly, with the way he can never get enough of your shy, innocent face transforming into a masterpiece of ruin when he defiles you, it's possible he'll keep forgetting the condoms before it's July. After taking his time to fill you for good morning, he'll treat you both to some nice breakfast in one of the places you both enjoy, then take you on a drive outside the city. There's this spot in a private area (which he bought) that oversees the city. There's a picnic ready to last not only for lunch but a whole night, too. Steve's going to enjoy you thoroughly between all the cuddling and sightseeing. Then he'll fuck you from behind, one hand cradling your pregnant belly, so you both can watch the fireworks burst across the sky.
Inferno Steve doesn't do any special celebration for his birthday. He accepts gifts from the other three Apex Alphas, as tokens of respect and alliance, but isn't interested in others' pitiful, fake wishes that are in fact underlaid with their fear and greed. But it is his special day and he always treats himself to something that satisfies him greatly. Now that he has his Omega, you're the source of that pleasure. The forests surrounding your house are vast and thick, and you've already explored it a few times in his favorite play of primal chase and forcing you to cum while he fucked you on the forest floor. So he decides to celebrate his birthday somewhere else - a chateau somewhere in the south, where you've never been. The luxuries of it appear impossible to exist, something you definitely never dreamed of coming from the cold, shell state of the poor district you grew up in. But these luxuries are mixed with devious traps. And Steve will chase you through the grand mansion, defiling you on the antique chaises as well trapping you in medieval stockades.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3,068
Summary: Telling Steve about your stalker opens the floodgates of emotions you’d been suppressing for months… and you’re not the only one who gets swept away by their feelings.
Warnings: AU. AI!Bot!Steve. Reader is anxious, stressed, and prone to panic, traumatized, too. Stalking and delulu behavior (not from Steve). Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Attempted sexual assault (not by Steve). Unfavorable representation of the police. Angst.
A/N: My lovelies!! I’m so excited to share AI!Steve’s next part with you all. I know quite a few of you really love him, so enjoy! ❤️
P.S. This part is a direct continuation of where we left off in their first part, so be sure to read that if you haven’t already.
Superior AI Masterlist
“I met him at the local farmer’s market back home,” you started, your voice quavering as you allowed your frazzled mind to return to that day.
The day that had seemed so insignificant at the time but wound up changing the course of your life forever.
The day that you wished with everything inside of you that you could go back and completely erase from your experience.
“He seemed so nice and sweet…” you trembled, your voice going distant as you remembered…
“I dunno,” you hesitated, gnawing on your lower lip as you eyed the small plant. It really was so cute and would be the perfect pop of color on your new entryway table, but… “I’m so terrible with plants,” you confessed, your guilty gaze flickering up to the man who ran the plant and flower booth.
His smile was soft–his bright blue eyes twinkling in amusement–as he ducked his head to meet your gaze more fully. “I promise this plant is practically unkillable. And I can give you a little card with easy, detailed instructions to help you care for it.”
You sighed, your fingers gently touching the healthy, vibrant leaves of the plant. It really was calling to you for some reason. “Okay…” your eyes caught the man’s, and you frowned playfully. “But if I kill this thing, its blood is on your hands.”
He laughed, and it lit up his entire face, which only grew more handsome in his delight. You felt your belly swoop at the sight, at the way he was watching you with a spark of interest you hadn’t had directed your way in a long time.
“I’m Cole, Turner,” he introduced himself, holding out his big, rough hand for a shake.
You didn’t hesitate to slip your hand into his, noticing the way he cradled it more than shook it, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary.
“And I’d happily get blood on my hands for you,” he grinned, then froze, his eyes going wide as he registered his own words.
There was a beat of silence as you both stared at each other, and then Cole grimaced as he let your hand slip from his.
“Sorry, that sounded more suave and less serial killer-y in my head,” he cringed, broad shoulders hiking up to his ears.
You laughed, utterly charmed by this sweet, handsome stranger. “Noted,” you murmured in amusement, watching the way Cole’s cheeks glowed pink as he started to gently package your plant for the car ride home.
You took a shaky breath as you hugged yourself tightly, feeling a chill dance along your spine as you thought of Cole, of the fact that you had been genuinely interested in him, and so happy he seemed to feel the same way.
You glanced over at Steve to find him watching you with this look of sympathetic concern. His eyes were so soft and earnest as they met yours, that you had to remind yourself that he was a robot and not an actual person.
“You couldn’t have known the way things would turn out,” he assured you.
“No,” you shook your head slowly. “I really couldn’t have. Cole was so lovely at first. Always had new plants set aside for me at the market, always checking in on the ones I had previously bought. It only took a few visits before he asked me out, and I was happy about it,” your voice broke as tears began to flood your vision. “I had no idea what I was getting myself into…”
The longer you sat across the dinner table from Cole, the more uneasy you grew. There was this intensity to him tonight, an almost manic gleam in his eyes as he leaned in close and rambled about finally settling down, how relieved his parents would be, how he couldn’t wait to have children, how the farm was the perfect place to raise a family…
“Wow,” you couldn’t help but blurt, laughing uncomfortably as you glanced away. “You really know what you want, huh?”
“I do,” Cole hummed, and when your gaze hesitantly returned to him, it was to find him watching you in this way that made all of your hair stand on end.
In that moment, as a chill skittered its way up your spine, you felt like prey, and it was nowhere near as sexy as the dark romances you read made it out to be.
Instead of thrilled or flattered, you felt sick. You felt dread the longer Cole stared at you, and disappointment, too, because you had been so excited for this date.
“So, how many kids do you want?” Cole asked, reaching for his wine glass and taking a drink.
“Well,” you laughed awkwardly, fiddling with the napkin spread across your lap. “I never actually said I wanted kids, so…”
“Oh you were definitely meant to be a mother,” Cole scoffed, a knowing smile tilting his lips as his eyes slowly trailed over you, making your skin crawl. “I can already see it now. One baby perched on your hip and another growing in your belly. You’d be so beautiful pregnant, glowing.”
This time, you were the one reaching for your wine glass, taking a deep gulp as you discreetly glanced at your watch, praying for dinner to be served so you could get the hell out of here.
Once you were finally home a couple of hours later, you still felt icky at the way Cole had tried to kiss you goodnight and seemed very disappointed when you’d evaded him and gone in for a quick, fleeting hug instead.
You waited a while, until you were sure he was home, before texting him to thank him for dinner but also let him know that it wasn’t going to work between the two of you.
The deluge was instant.
One text after another flooding the chat thread you had with Cole. Asking why. Refuting your shutdown. Telling you he knew the two of you were meant to be together. That he had never felt this way about anyone.
Then he tried to call you. Repeatedly. Your phone blew up until you finally blocked him with trembling fingers, feeling beyond anxious and strangely scared before turning your phone off entirely and trying to wind down for bed.
“I thought that would be the end of it, you know?” you whispered, gaze distant and fixed on the fireplace as you twisted your fingers in your lap. “I didn’t dare return to the farmer’s market, I avoided it instead. But it only took a couple of weeks before it started to feel like I was being watched any time I left my home. Then Cole confirmed my suspicions by cornering me one day after work…and I never told him what I did or where I worked…”
“Cole?!” your voice was pitched high–unnaturally so–your panic bleeding into your tone as Cole pressed you up against the driver’s side door of your car. “What…how…”
“You can’t just avoid me forever!” he huffed, gripping your shoulders hard enough to bruise and make you squeak in pain. “Sorry,” he relented his harsh touch immediately, but kept his hands on you, his fingers petting instead of gripping now as you squirmed and tried to recoil. “Look, I just… I can’t stop thinking about you, and I just know if you gave me another chance–”
“Cole, you’re at my work right now,” you said firmly despite your voice shaking, despite your terror. “How did you even know where to find me?”
He looked away, jaw clenched as he remained silent.
“Please, you need to go,” you trembled.
“No!” he shook his head, eyes blazing as they returned to you. He took a breath, deflating a little at the look of sheer terror on your face. “Please, sweetheart, I’m sorry for scaring you, I just… I need you.”
“We hardly know each other.”
“When you know, you know, and I know, with everything inside of me, that you’re it for me. You’re all I want, please…”
You squealed and jerked away as Cole leaned in and tried to kiss you.
It was instant the way his eyes flashed with displeasure, with malice.
“Don’t do that,” he snarled, his fingers digging into your arms as he shoved you back against your car with enough force to make you whimper. He opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, one of your colleagues was calling your name from across the parking lot, sounding concerned.
It was enough to have Cole cursing under his breath before turning on his heel and racing from the parking lot, leaving you weak from fear as your coworker rushed over and asked if you wanted them to call the police.
“But I didn’t want to get Cole in trouble, I didn’t want to make this a big thing, you know?” You sniffled, batting away a stray tear. “I just wanted him to leave me alone.”
“But he didn’t?” Steve guessed, a tic popping in his jaw as you slowly shook your head.
Curling into the corner of the sofa, you whispered, “No, he didn’t…”
You weren’t sure what woke you up, but you startled awake nonetheless, feeling the furthest thing from well rested, as your sleep quality had deteriorated over the past few months due to everything happening with Cole.
Just as you thought his name, you realized that he was standing over you.
That it wasn’t just another nightmare or night terror, that Cole Turner was in your bedroom right now–naked, his bare chest heaving as he stroked his cock slowly and shushed your terrified whimper.
“Shhh, don’t scream–” he started as you opened your mouth to do just that. He cursed, lunging at you, pressing the hand he had been using to touch himself over your mouth to muffle your cry for help.
You struggled wildly beneath him, something about feeling the weight and warmth of him–his bare skin, his wiry chest hair–it made you feel sick, but it also made you feel angry.
So you slapped at him, clawed at him, continuing to shriek against his damp palm as he tried to subdue you.
“Shh shh shh, it’s okay! Baby, please, just let me show you how good we can be together,” he groaned as all your writhing and twisting had his hard cock getting trapped against the blankets bunched at your stomach. “Fuck, I know you’re gonna feel so good, cause you were made for me–”
Cole’s words morphed into a pained cry as you bit his palm hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to have him jerking away from you as he cradled his hand and stared at you with wide eyes.
Then you opened your mouth and screamed for all you were worth.
You didn’t stop screaming when Cole scrambled out of the bedroom window he had left open, and onto the fire escape. You didn’t stop screaming when your neighbor pounded on your front door asking if you were okay, or when you heard the police sirens in the distance growing closer.
You didn’t stop screaming until your voice finally gave out. You sank back against your headboard, sobbing and shaking, feeling like you were going to be sick as adrenaline surged through your body, mixing with the fear and disgust rioting within your very bones.
“But they didn’t believe me, the cops,” you explained. “Not when it was all said and done.”
At the sound of displeasure–of offense–that Steve made, your tear-filled eyes finally focused and returned to him.
“Cole’s parents gave him a fake alibi, and the cops boiled it down to it was dark and I was hysterical because I’d been stressed and suffering from insomnia. They had no proof, it was my word against his, and…” you shrugged, more tears spilling over as you whispered, “They did nothing. So I moved here and left everything behind–my whole life, my career, my friends and family. Everything.”
You shook your head in disbelief that this was now your life–your unwanted reality.
“What else was I supposed to do? I knew he wouldn’t stop. He won’t stop,” your face crumpled as you dropped your head into your hands, feeling panic rise within you as you thought of Cole, of how relentless he had been, of the fact that he was still out there. “He’ll never stop.”
Steve was crouching before you in a heartbeat, holding out the box of tissues from the side table, looking hesitant and so concerned as he touched his free hand to your knee and gave it a squeeze.
You shuddered at the soft touch, realizing that you hadn’t been touched by another since that night with Cole. But this was so different–Steve’s touch made you feel safe and cared for.
Which, for some reason, only made you cry harder.
“I will keep you safe,” Steve promised. “It’s my number one objective, my sole mission. The whole reason why I exist is to protect you.”
It took a moment for Steve’s words to sink in, for you to realize that you weren’t alone in this anymore, that you had support now.
That you had Steve.
“I-I’ve been so scared and alone,” you cried. “They didn’t b-believe me! How could they not believe me?”
“I believe you,” Steve’s voice was soft, but his words were firm. “I will always believe you.”
“What if he finds me? What if I have to spend the rest of my life running and hiding from him?”
Steve shook his head, not one solitary doubt flickering across his painfully handsome face as he assured you, “I won’t let that happen.”
There was a fierceness to Steve now–in his words, in his gaze–and for a moment, you forgot what he was, and what he wasn’t.
Because he seemed like so much more than a machine.
And maybe that’s why you were finally allowing yourself to fall apart, because you had someone else now to help you pick up the pieces, to help you hold all of this.
You were no longer all alone in the darkness, being crushed beneath an unbearable weight.
“I don’t want to live like this,” you whispered brokenly. “I’m so tired and I’m so scared and I don’t want to live like this anymore! I can’t do this anymore, I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”
You hunched over your lap as you sobbed, rocking back and forth, your body buzzing with grief and overwhelm, with absolute turmoil as you finally surrendered to all of the feelings you had been harboring and suppressing for months on end.
You were so lost to it all, that it took a few moments for you to realize that you were pressed against a warm, firm chest. That you were crying into Steve’s shoulder as he gently smoothed his hands up and down your back in soft, soothing strokes.
For some reason, the gesture of comfort only made you cry harder.
When Steve asked if he could hold you, all you could do was nod before collapsing against him entirely, letting him hold you through the tidal waves of emotion, your calm and steady anchor who, despite the maelstrom raging inside of you, made you feel safe and cared for in his tight embrace.
A little while later found you on the sofa, tucked beneath the cradle of Steve’s arm, your body pliant and tension free for the first time in weeks as you slept soundly against his chest.
Of course Steve had been briefed on your situation before being delivered to you, but seeing the toll everything had taken on you firsthand–and how vulnerable you truly were–it had Steve experiencing something unexpected.
Beyond his programmed duty to keep you safe, Steve felt this overwhelming need to protect you, to take care of you, to take away all of your pain and distress.
And it wasn’t so much his undeniable attachment to you–and how quickly it had formed–that had Steve’s brow furrowing.
It was the fact that he felt at all.
Because machines shouldn’t have emotions.
Not even top-of-the-line, meticulously designed custom AIs like him should feel.
But Steve couldn’t deny that he felt strong empathy for you, as well as a fierce desire to keep you safe. It was like a living, breathing thing clawing at him from the inside out.
And it only grew stronger as Cole Turner’s photo flickered across Steve’s vision.
He’d gone a few steps further than all of the information on your situation that Sam had already uploaded to his mainframe, running his own in-depth research on the offender as you slept. Seeing Cole for himself, and recalling how terrified and disturbed you had been as you recounted your experiences with him…
It had Steve’s vision bleeding red at the edges.
It had him feeling anger, no, fury for the first time ever.
And that unexpected, unexplainable ripple of feeling–of something more and outside of his programming–had Steve going rigid in his seat.
It had him worrying that perhaps there was a flaw in his design, in his functioning, in his ability to take care of you like you needed and deserved.
Steve’s vision flashed green as he initiated diagnostics on himself, coding now speeding across his sight, as he made a mental note to send any findings–and his concerns–to Sam once the process was complete.
But just as quickly as the thought had come to him, it was pushed aside as you shifted against him, murmuring in your sleep.
Steve’s eyes flew to you, softening as he watched you frown in your sleep.
He moved before he realized it–before his programming caught up with his actions–his hand smoothing over your head in a slow, gentle caress that immediately had you sinking against him and the line between your brows smoothing.
His touch seemed to have a mind of its own, and Steve could only watch, feeling a sense of helplessness for the first time, as his fingers traced along your face, mapping the terrain of your skin.
As he looked down at you sleeping against him and processed the way you clung to him, how your fingers curled into the front of his shirt, Steve felt something else that he knew shouldn’t be possible.
Something that should be cause for concern and reported to Sam immediately…
RIP slow burn, sorry to say. Or sorry not sorry, I can’t decide yet lolll.
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