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.
↠ 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)
↠ Unauthorized Access (Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader)
↠ Glutton for Punishment (Steve Rogers x F!Reader)
*This work is a short riff, drabble, or hoe thought vs a longer oneshot or series chapter.
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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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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! ❤️
Omg I knew it was cole before you revealed it! And the lengths he went 😤😤😤 how dare he!
Poor reader has been through so much... I'm glad she has Steve and that he's taking care of her now 🥺 he's so self aware too, sending findings to Sam and all!
On this sinful Sunday, I cannot tame my whore muse, who is currently frothing over the idea of a scary alpha DA!Andy, who’s affiliated with the mob. Not quite a mob boss himself, but very well respected and connected.
And feared.
They call him The Magician because he makes problems—and people—disappear 😥🫣
Andy has spent most of his life and all of his energy building up his career (both public facing and less savory back channels) and his reputation. He’s never had much time or interest in dating.
If he has a scratch, he itches it. If he goes into an unexpected rut, he has a very reputable and discreet escort he turns to.
But then you fall into his lap…
You’re innocent bystander collateral damage for one of his back channel clients. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something you shouldn’t have.
So naturally, Andy’s client gave him a call and the location of the abandoned warehouse where you’re currently chained up.
When Andy arrives in his expensive suit, his jaw tight and his eyes steely, he doesn’t expect to find the prettiest omega he’s ever seen curled into a ball on the floor and giving him the scaredest, sweetest 🥺 face ever.
As Andy moves closer and gets a whiff of your delectable scent, and hears your voice for the first time as you tremble, “Please, I won’t say anything, I promise.” the rumbled observation is out of Andy’s mouth before he can stop it—
“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”
You swallow nervously as he crouches before you, his musky alpha scent immediately filling your nose and making you a little dazed.
You don’t even recoil when Andy gently pets your head, or when he brushes his fingers down your throat then pulls aside the collar of your shirt so he can see your mating gland.
His inner alpha rumbles its satisfaction when your unmarked skin is revealed, and Andy decides it would be such a waste to get rid of you.
As you tentatively lean into his touch without realizing it, his lips tilt up into an almost smile. You’re so docile, and responsive to him already, and he’s worked so hard for so long, he deserves a spoil of war.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Andy husks.
You shiver at the deep baritone of his voice, still taken aback by how beautiful he is. “Yes, alpha,” you whisper.
Andy hums, his knuckles drawing up along the curve of your throat before his thumb is pressing against the softness of your lower lip. “I like that word on these pretty lips, especially directed at me.” His thumb trails back and forth along your lip, his electric blue eyes meeting yours. “Do you know why they sent me here, honey?”
Your eyes fill with tears as your breath catches, and your voice nearly breaks as you answer, “To hurt me?”
“To kill you,” Andy corrects, shushing you as a pitiful, terrified whine spills past your lips. “But I don’t think I need to resort to such extreme measures,” he coos. “Not with you. Because you’ll be good for me, won’t you, my sweet, obedient omega?”
And what can you do but nod and accept your fate?
“Come on,” Andy says as he rises to his feet and takes you with him. His nostrils flare when he gets a whiff of your sweet, relieved scent, a pleased purr rumbling the back of his throat as his hands fall to cup your hips. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up, sweetheart. By the end of the night, you’ll be warming my knot with my bondmark on your pretty throat.”
Despite the way your knees nearly buckle as your tears finally spill over, you know your place, and that Andy is quite literally sparing your life, so you quaver a soft, “Thank you, alpha.”
And Andy can’t help but grin at your sweet, good girl manners.
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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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 😘
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But Steve! Before, it was only "Protect," but now it's "MUST PROTECC!!!"
Hahahaha yesssss, and I am living for it!!
And I know re: the possessiveness. Tbh, I almost took it out, but Stevie was persistent. I do think it’s a protective possessiveness tho, like you’ve been through so much and you’re so scared, and now you’re his to take care of and help heal 🥺😭
"Are you always this charming?" + Steve Rogers
Words: 216
A/N: a short blurb inspired by this ask from @veltana.
"Are you always this charming?"
Steve laughs—a short, flustered thing that moves through the air between you and is snatched away by the wind. In the orange lamplight, he scratches the back of his neck, a gesture so boyish you’re charmed twice over. “I don’t know about that,” he says. “I mean, I’m not really a—”
He shrugs, letting the rest hang there. Whatever he thinks he isn’t, it doesn’t matter. What matters is how close you’re standing, and how his eyes keep flicking to your mouth and then away, as if he’s daring himself to cross the invisible line.
You tilt your chin up for him.
And that does it. He closes the space, a shy warmth in the way he grips your forearms, as if grounding himself in the sheer fact of your existence.
When he kisses you, it’s hesitant but hungry, the kind of awkward that’s so real it surprises you into smiling mid-way through. He pulls back, a little stunned, and you watch, hardly believing that this man who is Captain freaking America to the world has any doubt about his standing with you, when all you want from him is the man behind the shield. Steven Grant Rogers and his good heart and his nervous hands, and his unguarded laugh.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
"If I win this bet, you owe me a date." + Lloyd Hansen
Words: 251
Author Note: a short blurb inspired by this ask from @veltana.
"If I win this bet, you owe me a date."
“Uh-huh.” You roll your eyes. If Lloyd Hansen has made an agreement with you once, he’s made it a thousand times: bets, predictions, whether or not he makes a specific mark, terms for anything from a coffee order to the next Nobel Prize winner. And yet, for all Lloyd’s talk, he’s never once tried to collect. Not that you have much to fear—he’s the type who’d rather make you squirm in anticipation. You know he likes the idea of a date more than the date itself.
Scratch that, you know Lloyd is not the dating type. Hates and ridicules the colleagues who do go on dates.
He flashes a smile that should be illegal outside of toothpaste commercials. "I’m serious this time. Put it on the record."
You don’t even look up from your laptop. "You owe me more dates than you can count.”
“Ninety-nine.”
You jerk your head up to look at him. “What?”
“You heard me: ninety-nine dates.”
You open your mouth only to close it again.
“Ninety-nine,” he repeats, smug as ever. “If I win today, that’s one hundred.” He laces his fingers behind his head, elbows angled with showoff laziness, leaning back in his seat on the chartered plane. “At that point, I’m cashing in. No more IOUs. You, me, three uninterrupted days. I take you to my place in the Bahamas, and we see how many times we can fuck before your brain completely short-circuits.”
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
Warning: stealing, vagrancy, food sparcity, and some other elements to come.
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: Geralt of Rivia, short reader
Summary: you lie to get some food, but get more than you bargain as the Witcher comes to collect his debt.
Note: I hate being this way but couldn’t get this one out of my head.
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 ❤️
"Your dad?" Geralt growls as his boots crunch over twigs.
You reach to slap his stomach and stop him. You bend to move a snail out of his path and whisper an apology. The Witcher sighs.
"Yep. Thought I mentioned before he isn't the nicest fella," you shrug. "But he's family."
Your father marches ahead of you on his hooves, chittering and listening to the response. He's calling to the rest of the settlement; to the watchers in the brush and the archers on the trees. You recognise the broken branch where you fell as a child and the rock where you etched your initials. You knew this was the place but you hoped to just pass through.
"What's a fawn adopting a little girl for?" Geralt harrumphs.
"She's mine own blood." Your dad calls over his fuzzy shoulder. "Half me, half her ma... Unfortunately."
Geralt grumbles. Your dad snorts.
"You should know we fawns have keen ears," your dad drawls.
"Know lots about fawns." Geralt retorts. "I know they can be as pestilent as fleas."
"I'm sure ye know about fleas too, witcher." Your dad chirps back.
Your reluctant companion sighs. You suppress a grin. Your dad's with isn't too bad when it isn't aimed at you.
"Can't say I'm surprised at ye, girl. You always was good at finding trouble." He growls as he leads the way along the path. "Send ya off on her earth voyage and you get lost, come back with this thing."
"Thing..." Geralt snarls under his breath.
You snort and shake it off.
"Well, I saw all sorts. A thing called a drowner. Some sort of tree monster. Met a ghoul named Gareth." You say.
"Sure you saw all sorts."
"You sure you're blood related..." Geralt whispers. "You don't have hooves, though you can be a donkey."
"Oi, quiet," you rebuffs.
"Look, we're just on our way past, y'know? Travelling. Protecting people from those who ain't so nice as us." You explain.
"Mm. So you think you can be one of them?" Your dad signals with his hand.
"No, I'm... Being me. You sent me off to figure out who that is."
"I thought you might find some sense." He rasps.
Farlan approaches, the tawny fawn you recognise by the tattoo above his left brow. Your father assures him there's no danger and you wave to him. The familiar figure jolts and smiles as he sputters your name.
"Your daughter's come back, Griffey."
"So she has," your father waves him off. "Give em soup and a place to sleep for the night. They're gone in the morn."
"Da, wait," you call after him. "I wanted to ask you something."
"You were s'posed to find your own answers, girl." He clomps away on his hooves.
You huff and cross your arms. You roll your eyes. Farlan says your name.
"Eh! So long, eh?" You grin at him. "Didn't think I'd see ya again."
"Was starting to think the same," Farlan says. "It's nice. And..." He glanced at Geralt who grits and rubs his shoulder. "You married?"
You laugh. Loudly. Geralt sneers.
"Business partners. Sorta." You say. "Whatsa matter with da?"
"Ah, you know Griff. He's always like that."
"I saw the emblems. They're far out." You say.
Farlan frowns. He peers around. "Come, you should eat." He gestures. "You remember Jenetha?"
"Sure do. She was the best."
"She's still got some sanity about her." Farlan leads you through the campsite.
You see some familiar faces. Trudy, who used to call you ten toes, is bulging with pregnancy. She squints at you as several other fawns you hunted with twist to watch you. Geralt tramps heavily beside you.
"She can fix up your business partner too." Farlan promises.
You pass a fence of reeds and the little fairy house with butterflies fluttering and chimes made of broken shells. You catch a glimpse of one of the residents before the window snaps shut.
Farlan takes you to the clay door of Jenetha's hut and he whistles. He waits. Geralt leaves roach outside the fence before he follows.
He does it several more times then a squawk comes from within. He enters and beckons you after him.
Jenetha's braided hair is woven with willow strips and dandelions. She hunches in her chair, the socket of her missing right eye behind a patch of cobra skin. Her head wobbles as she sniffs the air.
She says your name. Then she turns to look at Geralt as he brushes against her loom. She cackles.
"Witcher." She flips up her eye patch and sits up straight. "I see you."
He grunts and crosses his arms before flinching. He rubs his shoulder and the old fawn woman clucks.
"Prodigy of Vesemir." She declares. "Ah yes, the one who took my eye."
Geralt exhales. "I know him..."
"Yes, all you white devils do." She tuts.
"I've not come to hurt anyone."
"Yes, I know. Griff heard ye near the brook. That man's paranoid." She sits back, still hunching. "Though not without reason."
"Jenetha," you step forward. "Why are the emblems so far out?"
She hums. She shakes her head. "There's black rot. South of here. It creeps into the soil. We have searched for the source but alas... Ah, well, the emblems keep it from our woods."
"Rot?" You ask. "What kind?"
"Unnatural." She says. "Your witcher would know more than I."
Geralt sniffs. "I suppose you don't have any nearby?"
"Do you think me mad?" She trills. "Go south, along the Ford, past the old arch." She says. "You will see it. As black as the pits of your witcher heart."
He snarls.
"Do not fret, dear slayer. If you were not welcome, you would not have crossed the threshold. I saw you coming too." She signals to Farlan. "Boy," she calls the middle aged fawn. "Fetch me my herb box." She points at Geralt. "And you, witcher, come, let me see that shoulder."
He hesitates but goes to her. He removes his leather armour and exposes his shoulder from beneath his torn tunic. Jenetha points to a stool nearby and he pulls it up to sit.
Farlan comes with a chest and opens it for the old woman. She pulls out a vial of sludgy tonic and swirls it. Geralt grimaces.
"No magic, witcher. Just natural remedies." She assures.
She uncorks it and smears the paste on his shoulder. It smokes as he watches. He hums.
"It doesn't hurt?"
"It wouldn't, witcher." She chides. "It's healing. I used the same on that other white haired thing before he took my eye. He called it poison." She shakes her head. "You witchers are all the same. You assume all are as you... Dangerous."
He clears his throat. "Mm..." He rolls his shoulder. "Thank you... Jenetha?"
"Call me Jenny." She pats his thick arm. "Though you witchers are right on one thing. Not all is as it seems."
Her eye glints at you and your brows tweak. She looks at Geralt and snaps her fingers. "There's stew on the stove. Eat, sleep if you can."
Omg I love this story so much. They have such a hilarious dynamic, and her father is such a character too!! And I’m just more and more intrigued the more you reveal!
This wetnessday your day off gets rudely interrupted by knocks on your front door. As you open there's a handsome man you've encountered at your workplace last week and a bunch of guys with moving boxes. He leads you back inside and instructs the guys to pack everything up. You're so confused but before you can ask what's going on he's already taking you to the bedroom to make you pliant before escorting you into your new life.
Who is he?
xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦
Happy Wetnessday! 💖
Theoretically, a man with such confidence, means and resources would be cast as a mafia man, but I for a change I'm going with a billionaire CEO (who is not mafia connected, simply very powerful and influential).
✨
Your life flowed steadily and you liked it that way. You liked the job you had for years. You liked your routine. You liked that even though the company you worked for got bought nearly a year ago, and over the months all the offices were relocated into the glass tower of a powerful building, nothing really changed.
Well, nothing beside two additional bus stops and a new place to eat lunch at.
You were coming back from your lunch - fed and happy - when the elevator you stepped into passed your floor and climbed higher.
It was either a simple malfunction, or someone from the top floors called for it a split of a second before you hit your floor's button and somehow the mechanism decided to follow chronological demand instead of logical stop midway.
When the door opened, you gaped at the most handsome man with a stormy frown marring his face.
The frown wasn't at you, it was directed at his phone. When he lifted his gaze up and saw you there in the elevator - someone who never stepped onto the top level - his annoyance cleared.
"Hello." He pocketed his phone and pushed a foot forward, to block the door from closing. "Are you here for someone? Want me to point you in the right direction?"
"Actually," you smiled nervously, feeling unnecessary embarrassment blaze in your cheeks, "I work twenty floors below, but the elevator didn't stop there, just went straight here."
"Ah. So we're both going down." The man smiled at you and your knees weakened instantly.
Smoothly, he stepped fully inside and pressed the button for the ground floor.
Inside the elevator, he gave you space, but leaned against the wall and faced you directly.
"Back from lunch already?" He asked casually.
"Yes, I like to be at least fifteen minutes early. Make myself some tea for another round of working. Maybe sneak a cookie from the common pantry."
His smile returned, somehow so genuine and radiant you wondered if this man wasn't some actor playing a role in a romantic comedy.
Businessmen working in skyscrapers wore fancy suits, but there were never so charming.
"They do have some good cookies here," the man nodded. "As for lunch, there's a place across the park. Wild Berry. You should check out their forest pasta."
"Oh, I eat that pasta every Friday. Gets me in the mood for a weekend of losing heels and becoming my own housewife," you grinned.
"Sharp worker by daylight, secret housewife by weekend and nightfall." He made a short whistling sound of being impressed, then slightly lowered his head and looked at you from beneath his eyelashes-
"Careful, such superpowers may tempt a villain to come for you."
You laughed: softly, freely, and the sound made the man's blue eyes sparkle with growing interest.
"If a villain is tempted by my baking and addiction to cooking shows, he may come and take me anytime."
A second later the elevator stopped on your floor and the door slid open.
"Have a great day," you smiled once more at him, before stepping out.
"Let's make it a great life!" He called after you as the elevator door started to shut.
At that moment, you didn't know that by the end of the next week that man would appear on your doorstep. With scary manpower to ensure following his unyielding decision -
I would happily endure a move again, and so soon, for this man 😍 I looooved the chemistry between them!! I know that joke about being a housewife tickled his housewife kink bwahaha. This Andy cannot wait to have you barefoot and pregnant 🙂↔️
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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I didn't know what to expect going into this and yet was somehow still shocked by the third act twist. It begins with I Know What You Did Last Summer vibes then quickly rolls into something even scarier.
That scene with them speeding down the road though. I hated Colin in that moment because he was clearly pushing something she was not comfortable with and using her fear to manipulate her. Turns out she was right to refuse to touch him while he was driving as it resulted in one of the worst possible outcomes.
The trauma this girl experienced in such a short time - witnessing what she believed to be the death of two people - one of whom she was fairly close to in the FWB way. Then being surrounded by a creepy robed cult and told she's going to be forced to marry the leader - a concept that is terrifying no matter how handsome and nice Steve is.
I am curious who the other members of his coven are - especially when she was taken aside to get ready for the wedding and it was clear there were women under the robes. Are they the other Avengers? The wives of other cult members?
I appreciate that Steve was gentle with her through the bonding ritual but it still included such a violating experience. At least he was able to remove the shame and fear by making it feel good for her through magic.
I really didn't see that final twist coming, but looking back at how things went down, it makes sense.
Yay!!! I’m always ecstatic when I can throw in a twist or something that surprises my readers 🤭
I honestly didn’t develop a lot of background for the coven members in my mind lol. Other than the twist character at the end, they were all kind of throwaways to me 🫣
This wetnessday your neighbour has to come to your rescue! You're being terrorised by a spider and just can't reach it. Cue your tall and handsome neighbour coming home as you try to shoo it out of your apartment with a stick. He offers his help which you gladly take.
Who is it and how do you repay your hero?
xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦
Hello! I’m okay! I’m glad you are too ❤️
I’m laughing so much at this scenario because I haaaaaate bugs and critters 🙅🏻♀️ So I would very much appreciate having a babe step in to give me an assist with this lol. And I just immediately pictured this guy:
So willing to help!
Very amused by how you keep whining to the spider, “Oh my god, please get out, don’t make me murder you! I don’t break into your home, do I?!”
Is ridiculously gentle with said spider.
Like, why is it making you so soft? You hate spiders.
And the soft smile he gives you once he returns to find you waiting in the hallway, wringing your hands.
You start to apologize for being such a bother, but Steve cuts you off with an earnest, “Please don’t apologize, I’m happy to help.”
And then there’s this long, electric pause.
Cause neither of you want to leave yet.
But you’re also strangers and don’t really have anything to talk about.
Luckily, Steve puts all that bravery to good use and asks you if you want to have dinner with him. “It can be super casual. Maybe we order in?”
And you insist on making it your treat since he offered his services 🤭
Steve almost objects but then you see this glint of cunning in his eyes as he replies, “Okay, but next time, it’s my treat.”
Still thinking about your Superior AI Steve. Can't tell you how much I love that he recognizes he shouldn't be feeling these things so he submits his code for review. That feels very Steve. Not necessarily that he's following rules, but that he wants to make sure he's not at risk of hurting you or not being able to complete his mission of keeping you safe.
-Zombie
@thezombieprostitute oh em geeee, I knooow! 🥹 He’s such a good man even when he’s not a man at all 😭
It’s actually a lot of fun to explore one of the AIs actually being concerned about the more they’re experiencing! And Steve is so perfect for it because of his mission to keep you safe and protected. He takes it so seriously 🥺
Thank you for this ask, friend! It made me squeal 🤭❤️
Why’d this make me think of best friend Andy watching you clarify to someone that you guys are just friends and you don’t think of him like that, when he was close to asking you on a proper date
Omgosh!!!! Noooo! This is probably his delulu villain origin story then, and you will find yourself locked in his basement soon enough 😌 I mean 🫢
I’m definitely not excited to be Andy’s basement wife. Noooope. Not me 🙂↔️
