#the slumber party writing challenge
Note
Divorce with either Steve/Andy I'm feeling angsty.
Whether happy/sad ending is up to you :)
Hi bestie <3 I'm sorry it has taken more time than I thought but my drabble turns into a one-shot before I can even realize skjksjskjskjksj
hope you'll enjoy this <3
Lie, Lie, Lie
Steve Rogers x You (Mutant!Reader)
Warning: Swearing, Angst, Divorce, (also asshole-ish Avengers?)
W/C: 5.4 K
Summary: A small leak will sink a great ship. -- Benjamin Franklin
A/N: My first entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.
It starts with a minor, insignificant detail.
Just some static in the phone, really.
A snippet of sound that common people would interpret as bad signals, considering that Steve is phoning you from thousands of miles away, while you are using the landline.
For holy Mary’s sake, who the hell still uses landlines today?
Apparently, the academic conferences you attend do.
Steve notices the small static buzzing the call you are having, after which you grumble in frustration, “Stupid signals, can’t even function properly.”
He smiles, knowing that you can’t see the expression on his face. You are cute even when you are complaining.
You sigh deeply on the other end of the phone, your voice slightly distorted from the electronic, or wireless, transmission, “I miss you, Stevie. Can’t wait to come home.”
“It’ll only be two more days,” Steve reassures you with his soothing timbre, “I’ll be waiting for you at the airport, alright? First thing you’ll see after getting off that plane.”
“Okay.” You know he can hear you pouting, but you pout anyway, “Gotta have some sleep now. I’m going to the keynote tomorrow morning.”
“Take care of yourself.” Steve holding on to his phone, wincing again as the static buzzes again, but it appears only on his end, as you seem unaffected by it, “Take care of my favorite scientist and my favorite girl for me, okay?”
“I am your favorite girl. And you know I have my powers.” You try your best to stifle a large yawn, but Steve senses your tiredness right away.
“Sleep tight, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Steve blows a kiss, hoping that it would travel across oceans and lands via the phone, and reach your forehead.
“Night, Steve.”
“Good night, sweetheart.”
You are about to hang up when the static tortures his ear again.
You hang up.
Static isn’t a problem for most people, who, unlike Steve, don’t have super hearing and super memory.
Steve could think that the static is a minor interference, however, static that appears during phone calls are hardly inconsistent. And if he has learned a thing or two during the time that landlines are still fairly popular – 40s, by the way – is that static doesn’t go on and off, nor does it blur on different pronunciations since static should naturally have a pattern.
Since Stark phones issued by the friendly billionaire is certainly off the question, he suspects that someone might be tapping into your landline.
Something is off. His intuition is telling him. So, he called Tony and asked for a favor.
After some analysis that Steve couldn’t fully understand, Tony presses his index finger to his lips tightly, humming to himself.
“Anything?” Steve watched as Tony chugged down the fifth cup of coffee ten minutes ago, and now Tony has been unusually quiet.
Tony spins his chair around, looking thoughtful. He waves his fountain pen in midair, pointing at his screen in general, “This isn’t some sort of prank Bruce asked you to play, is it?”
“Prank? Tony, this is my wife we’re talking about.” Steve is about to lose his patience. He crosses his arm, dead serious, “What is … this? Am I being paranoid or …”
He wouldn’t dare to think about you in actual danger and he’s sitting cozily in Avengers Compound. He could’ve been risking your precious rescue time. Or warn you, somehow.
Even knowing that you have your special powers.
Your mutant powers.
Still, there are hundreds of ways for you to be defenseless.
A collar could suppress all your powers. A shot of the new dose of Mutant Serum could make you lose your X-gene once and for all. And all those terrible things that could happen to you.
Tony scratches his goatee, his expression is puzzled, to say the least, “this static that you provided, looks like the interface Bruce and I were cooking up for a Friday-upgrade.”
“English, please, Tony.”
Tony magnifies the example of static extracted from the recording that is automatically stored on Stark servers, and pulls out a random MRI brain scan from Steve’s health exam last year, “See what I mean?”
Steve watches the two waves on the screen closely, almost stuttering from what he is summarizing, “They look … similar.”
“Exactly.” Tony throws the MRI scan off the screen and points to the static, “This? This isn’t sound. This is human thinking. Hell, thinking, I’m not even sure it’s human. And it has a purpose. The reason you are hearing the ‘static’ – I’ll name that thing later, is that it serves as a relay, that patches you through its – thinking, whatever, and directs your call to Y/N.”
“It isn’t Friday?” Steve blurts out the only AI he could think of.
“If it is Friday, the Nobel committee is handing me the award right this moment.” Tony snorts, but he turns serious as soon as he notices Steve’s worrying look, “but with this fragment, I can locate Y/N,” and with a few taps on the keyboard, a global map appears in front of them.
Tony mutters to himself, “Can’t track the relay itself, but I can … ”
Another few keystrokes and a red dot blip.
“… in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.” Tony isn’t even sure about what the blipping dot shows, “Now this can’t be right-” Tony looks back at Steve, whose eyebrows are tying up like knots, “Where did you say she’s having this academic conference?”
“Leipzig, Germany.” Steve answers without a second thought, “Quantum 2023.”
Tony looks awe-struck.
“I’m sending a team to get her.” Steve stands up from his seat abruptly, heading to the doorway, but Tony’s words make him stop.
“Quantum 2023 is next week, Steve. And it isn’t held in Leipzig.”
“But that’s impossible,” Steve turns on his heels, glaring at Tony, “She told me that she came into contact with some Professor, who invited her to this conference because she was doing so well with her panel back in January.”
“And what’s that panel?”
“CPS Quantum Computer-”
“CPSQ was never held this year.” Tony shakes his head, “The conference was cancelled because a main member of the CPSQ committee passed away last December. What else has she told you?”
“I can’t tell you.” You dare not read his face. Your gaze lands on the marble counter that you and Steve agreed on two years ago, instead of him. You lied. And you know you lied. And the fact that you know that you can tell him nothing, makes you even more scared and frightened, as you are well aware the last things Steve would tolerate are betrayal and infidelity.
Your shared home, once a sanctuary for you and the love of your life, now withering and shaken, cold and gloomy. It no longer is a safe haven for you.
“Did anyone blackmail you with anything?” Steve asks calmly.
He’s prepared for the worst things to come.
He spent the whole night with Tony trying to figure out the so-called “academic conferences” you were supposed to be a part of, and there were eight of them during the last three years.
Some calls were too old to trace, but Tony has figured out it with the recent three conferences, you weren’t doing Keynotes or presenting your results to academia, but in the same spot in the Pacific doing God knows what.
It was undocumented waters. Tony could only gather so much info that the islands in the vicinity were bought by a mysterious wealthy man who paid through his Kaymen Island account.
And you were visiting it almost every four months. Like clockwork.
There were a few heat signatures on the island, but with no visible vehicle, neither ferry nor helicopter in sight, Tony would have to guess that you would need someone who can transport you from where you were to the island.
“No.” You have no excuse. No reasons. No idea what you should say.
But you weren’t blackmailed. You went there voluntarily.
His gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. From the corner of your eyes, you can see he’s looking at you intensely. Trying to figure out whether you are still lying to him.
“Are you cheating?”
The other possible explanation he has thought of. Frightening, if an answer of certainty comes out of your mouth, but it would explain your lies. Steve curls his hand into a fist, the veins on his hand popping briefly onto his skin.
The hands that caressed your hair and your jaw, cradling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. All the gentle moves. Treating you as a soft and delicate being. Now a hard fist on the table.
He didn’t touch you on your way back to your home. Nor did he accept your hugs and kisses at the airport.
He was very disappointed.
“No.” You answer, with your head low.
How could he doubt your relationship? How could he doubt your love for him? Waiting for him to return after every battle, taking care of his wounds, having-
How could he think all of those were lies too?
“Then what are you hiding?”
Steve maintains his best manners not to crush the table under his fist into bits and pieces. He wants you to answer. Something. Tell him why he has been kept in the dark.
Anything.
You open your mouth, but no word comes out.
“I can’t tell you.” You whisper, your resolve of keeping the secret faltering under his piercing gaze. But you can’t tell him.
There’s turmoil in your stomach, wreaking havoc in your guts. You want to throw up when thinking about the truth, but cannot say it. Not with your teeth and tongue. Not with pen and paper. You cannot. You physically cannot.
Nothing remorseful or any expression similar appears on your face, as Steve observes your reaction closely.
“Please, Steve. I promise I’ll tell you, but now is not the time. It was – is an important … deed, to do.”
Steve stands up from his chair slowly.
Not even looking at you anymore, he sounds emotionless. Cold.
“I thought for a moment you were kidnapped. Tortured. Lured into a trap.”
“Steve-”
“I was this close,” he pinches his index finger and thumb together, “sending a full-blown rescue tactical team, to get you out.”
“Steve, please, just listen-”
“And are you talking, Y/N? Are you telling me what I need to hear?” He stands with his back to you, shaking with uncontrollable anger. “The truth, that’s all I want.”
“I can’t-”
“I can’t, either.” He interrupts you. For the entire time you can remember, from his cute and sweet attempts to ask you out on a date, from his chivalry of taking you out and asking you to be his wife, from the start of your happy marriage, he hasn’t once interrupted you when you were talking.
Tears roll down your eyes as you are tongue-tied, unable to utter a sound.
But Steve didn’t see those tears. If he did, he would have some idea that you are truly sorry for what you have done.
Steve stands with his back to you.
“I’ll save us the trouble and ask Tony to wipe our marriage from the system.”
Almost a shriek, your hands and feet are placed in the bottom of the ice pit, “You can’t-! I- You can’t!”
Your sobbing fills the room that was occupied by a dreadful silence. From your husband.
You would never imagine that a lie would go this far.
“Watch me.”
He can’t, not when you are-
Not when you are working on-
Not when you are trying to-
He can’t.
Realization dawns on you that even if you did tell him one thing that you can say to make him stay, he would consider it a lie.
Or an effort you make, trying to be bound to him.
That your trust is broken forever.
With that realization hitting you, he leaves the room.
Five years later, somewhere near Hawaii.
“This is really nice, what you got over here,” Tony comments in honesty, taking a step back to observe the rippling portal gate, “How long has it been put into use?”
Jean, the woman with flaming red hair and a scarf around her shoulders, has an impeccable smile on her face, leading the way as Natasha and Steve boarded the small vehicle up ahead, “Four. We used to transport to and from all over the world with the help of mutants who can create a portal. But as larger machines and construction materials were needed on Krakoa, the very land that you are standing on, our top scientists decided to benefit us all by inventing an instant portal device- Devices, should I say.”
As there are three large portals, each the size of a house, standing next to each other on the founding stones.
“Why are we even here?” Steve murmurs to Natasha, sounding confused, “I thought bargaining was Tony’s specialty…?”
“Smile, Rogers.” Natasha murmurs back, her eyes scanning the tropical island for any anomaly, “It’s a diplomatic event, not a business one.”
“Like a photo Op?”
“Like a peace offering.” Nat lowers her voice as she notices a mutant with bright green hair start the engine of their car, and take the position as their driver, “Krakoa now has the most efficient cancer eradication solution, and if we all behave and act like adults, the world would accept the possibility of the first mutant country. The UN is considering whether to add Krakoa as a new member country as we speak.”
“And if we blew it, WW3?”
“Worse. We will be hanged before we could say ‘assemble’.” Natasha sits straighter when Tony and Jean, the woman with red hair approaches the vehicle, and asks with a louder voice, “Would you mind telling us about the three-day trip planned on Krakoa?”
“Certainly.” With a look from Jean, the green-hair starts the car and drives away from the beach, heading towards a road that leads to the Krakoa city center. “We don’t have anything planned for this evening, so Lorna – our temporary driver - and I will show you around this place in general and escort you to your residence, where you will have dinner with our high council tonight. Tomorrow you’ll visit our university facilities and our most advanced laboratory, with our head scientist Hank. If you would like to visit any place else, feel free to tell us and we’ll try our best to satisfy your demands…”
Their residence is a small building near the city square. After a brief tour of the area, Jean tells them that normally they wouldn’t expect many visitors, so the building, though more well-equipped than most hotels, only resides the three of them, plus Jean for now.
Natasha strides across the room as Tony takes voice notes on his phone.
“… Their technology is at least two decades, if not three, more advanced than our top scientist.” With that as a summary, Tony stuffs his phone in his pocket.
And the room is filled with deafening silence.
“Do you think they cleared this place out when they are expecting us?” Steve sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Tony and Natasha.
“They are afraid of us, as we are afraid of them.” Natasha says slowly. Not really answering Steve’s question, but hinting at the opinion that she has in mind. Her striding comes to a halt, “The looks we had on our way here? Not all friendly.”
“Too bad we don’t have a mutant as a middleman.” Tony clicks his tongue, moving around his jaw like he has a toothache.
“Tony-” Starts Natasha warningly.
They all know one mutant who helped around in the Avengers a few years ago. They know one mutant was exceptionally close to Steve. Hell, they were even there to witness the wedding of-
“I’m gonna go get some air.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long exhale, before walking out of the room.
Of Steve and you.
You were not a powerful mutant. But you would be helpful, under a circumstance like this.
But Steve divorced you a few years back.
No one knows why. No one knows any information regarding the terrible divorce that made Steve leave you, leave the States for months.
Except that you were “missing” from time to time.
Natasha sits on the other armchair in the room, looking closely at Tony, and his greying beard. She chooses her words very carefully, “Was she…” Were you cheating back then? On Steve?
Tony shakes his head, “He never told me.”
“But is it possible that…”
“I wanted to believe the other way.” Tony nibbling at his bottom lip. In the end, he looks back at Natasha, the former Russian spy, “But the incident right after she left…”
A breach that erased all of your data, along with the data of three staff within the Avengers Compound, happened a few months after you left the Compound and disappeared. Not only the records of your information, but also calls and texts, almost every trace of your presence was erased completely from both Avengers Compound and the government system as well.
The three staff later identified as mutants. They fled from the compound on the same day of the incident.
No one knew where you were. No CCTV or surveillance camera has recorded your prescence ever since.
It's a shame to admit, but no one bothered to look either.
After all, there were no demands or ransoms asked. And they were too busy saving the world to care for such trivia.
Nothing else was missing.
A few printed photos that Steve kept in his office survived. Printed photos of you and him together. That he had kept in the bottom of his drawer ever since your divorce.
A week later, Krakoa was established, announcing itself as a country and providing shelters for all mutants.
Steve suspected that the two events might be connected somehow, but Krakoa banned anyone who isn’t a mutant from entering the territory and has been moving on the map ever since, refusing any prying eyes.
Steve wanders into the patch of green a few hundred inches away from the hotel, heading towards the beach.
He was painfully reminded of you.
Of your happy times together.
And the determination you showed when you refused to tell him about your affair.
Yes, your affair. Even though you denied it. Steve believes that you were lying to him. About your location, about your everything.
About your lover.
“… come on down little monkey!” A familiar voice ghosting his ears.
A little girl screams at the top of her lungs, before giggling and sitting at the far end of a branch on a tree a few meters away, “But it’s out of power-Hi, Uncle Hank!”
The girl has blonde curly hair, bouncing as she jumps on the thin branch that could snap at any second. Steve is about to sprint to rescue when he hears you.
Your familiar voice.
“Come on, Mommy will catch you.” You clap your hand, your back facing Steve, who is hiding in the bushes. Your arms stretched wide open, urging the little girl to come down.
Urging your daughter to come down from the tree? From a branch seven feet in the air? How are you even encouraging the little girl while she could break her neck is unfathomable to Steve. This is stupid. Reckless. Irresponsible. A total -
“Come on, little monkey.” You clap your hand again, “It won’t be half as fun if I have to come up and get you.”
“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know that the rocket boots will die so soon,” begins a man on your side, apologizing. A thin man with glasses in his 40s. “The battery is supposed to last five hours when I put them on- Oh.”
“Yes.” Steve hears your grumpiness, “Batteries. Hank. My expertise.”
Steve knows your expertise.
Although you studied quantum physics and its application, your interest in Physics derived from your ability to absorb power and power transformation. However, you were not particularly interested in fighting bad guys, that’s why you weren’t on missions as often as he thought you would.
Batteries. You would absorb electricity from it in an instant, even when you are not intentionally doing so.
“Exhibiting her abilities so soon?” Hank gasps in disbelief, raising his head to look at your daughter jumping on that twig, “Normally it would be until their teen years.”
You chuckle, “Missing out on the latest Bio lab, aren’t you? They just published a paper about how mutant parents would cause a higher rate of mutant children, and as a result, their abilities tend to show earlier. Even so,” you kick the sand under your feet, your voice less exciting, “Hers is showing earlier than I did.”
“You showed your ability when you were five, right?”
“Two months till five. But yeah, pretty early. She made the light in our room flick on and off, starting from a month ago.” You make one last attempt at your daughter, who is having her fun with those thick rocket boots on her feet, “Be a sweetheart and come down, alright? Mommy is getting tired and we haven’t had dinner yet.” You plead softly.
“Alright, Mommy.” The little girl answers.
As Steve watches from afar, worrying sick that your daughter would fall from the tree, she spreads her arms and falls from the tree. But like a piece of paper, descending slowly into your arms.
Absorbing gravity to cancel it out. One of your typical moves too. Steve thinks bitterly. No doubt the little girl is your daughter.
Hank offers something as you three walk further from Steve and the bush he’s hiding. Steve didn’t quite catch what he said, but he hears you reply with a certain “Yes”.
Your voice trails away, “But it’ll be fine. Won’t we, little monkey?”
The little girl giggles again.
“Do you want Daddy back, Mommy?” Your daughter Maddie asks abruptly as you take out the storybook before bed.
“I-” It would be a lie, to say that you do not want Steve. But years have gone by and you’ve built your life around Maddie and Krakoa. While you were desperate, wanting him back when you found yourself pregnant with Maddie, the night when he left your house, you knew that the only reason Steve would stick around, which is knowing that you are pregnant. Despite the responsibility he would be burdened with, he would also doubt whether he’s raising some other people’s child, since he already suspects that you were cheating, and your life would be miserable with his indifference.
You remember your panicking and fearing his leave.
Thinking that he can’t leave you, not when you are pregnant, not when you are working on a home and a shelter for your future children, trying to create a safe haven for you and your family.
But he left.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You tuck a strand of her blonde curls behind her ears, gazing into her beautiful cerulean eyes, “I hurt your father really bad when I made the big mistake that we talked about. And he hurt me too. Not that he wanted to, but he left me alone in this world.” You kiss her short chubby hand, placing her hand on your cheek, “We won’t be happy ever again. Because I lied to him. And he will always remember it.”
“Oh.” Maddie sounds disappointed, scrunching her little face together, “But Daddy knows you are doing the right thing, right? Building Kra-Kra-Krakoa and our home?”
She tried a few times to pronounce the word “Krakoa”, making you smile.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You explain to her with more patience than you can ever imagine, “I have never seen your father ever since.”
“He should!” Your daughter curls herself up into a ball in your arms, nuzzling your soft pyjamas, “He should be proud of you. And what you did. You help build the island, Mommy. Daddy should know. And he will forget your lying.”
Kids. Always thinking everything in the world is so simple. A small grin creeps up your lips.
But in your heart, the bitterness swirls into a dark pit.
Everyone else understood. Other mutants who had a family, who told their partners they will be gone for a while, who lied to their partners that they were needed for a job.
Their partners did. Their partners understood the cruelty of separation and the pain that those mutants cannot utter a word about their whereabouts, or the details of the job. The worst you’ve heard of, aside from yourself as an example, was a huge fight between Lorna and her boyfriend, but in the end, she forgave him after a week, having enough trust for both of them to continue their relationship and got married two years ago.
But no. Not Steve.
Steve, who quickly jumped to the conclusion that there was no need to continue this marriage.
Steve, after leaving word of divorcing you, left. To some shit-eating place in South Africa, for two whole months.
Two months. Two months of prying eyes and prodding questions from the Avengers, which you knew they were being kind and helpful, but you couldn’t stay there. Not when it brought pain and scars to your chest every time you’d see some possession that belonged to him, and cry your eyes out, nearly losing Maddie as a result. Not when they were also suspecting that you cheated on Steve and scolding you lightly, telling you to “speak to Steve and ask for his forgiveness”.
They were his family. Not really yours.
Yours is here.
You kiss her forehead, tucking her in, “I sure hope so. Good night, sweetheart.”
Your smile fades as your mind drifts to the human delegation that is alleged to arrive today.
You asked to be kept out of the loop and out of the trails that the delegation is visiting. You even confirmed with Hank today that you would take these three days off from the lab.
You blocked all relevant information regarding those visitors.
You were raised by this mutant family, by mutants such as Jean and Hank and befriended them, and you had your heart broken in the human world. You don’t want anywhere near humans ever again.
“These are some state-of-the-art devices. I have to say, I’m very impressed.” Tony tilts his head to the side, reading the metrics recorded on the screen in the up-state Bio lab, “This is not quite my expertise though, the project you are operating here.”
Hank magnifies the part Tony is observing onto the huge screen behind them, “We are trying to incorporate human thoughts into robots, but in a wireless form. With a thought-” Hank, the man in glasses, places two stickers onto his head, and a robotic arm on the far end of the lab begins writing “Welcome”, stopping dead when it comes to “O”. Hank shrugs, not even bothered by the failure of the demonstration, “We have a talented specialist that helps with coding, but there are always some interferences with the transmission.”
Natasha clears her throat to gain their attention, “I’m also very impressed with the construction of the island as a whole. A construction this large should take … what, five years and a couple hundred workers?”
“Two and a half, to be precise.” Hank gestures for them to move forward onto the Physics lab, peeling the stickers off his temple, “About three dozen mutants involved. It would be sooner if it weren’t…” As if he suddenly was reminded of something, Hank let out a short “Ah”, and a brief pause, “if it weren’t some … unintentional held-up with one of our finest mutants.” His eyes land on sulking Steve, only for a few seconds.
Hank said it with a proud smile on his face. It didn’t take Steve forever to recognize the man from the beach last night, who gave your daughter, very irresponsibly, Steve might add, rocket boots.
Your daughter’s father is very irresponsible too. Not even showing up when your daughter is in danger. He thinks, clenching his jaw, praying for strength that he would punch that guy in the face if he ever meets him.
Natasha and Tony exchange a glance behind Hank, failing to notice Steve and his stern expressions.
“But it must have been a huge effort, even with three dozen, to keep them silent?” Natasha jokes light-heartedly, “There’s hardly any secret in the Avengers Compound without the full staff knowing it in three days.”
Hank nods politely, holding the door for them to come through, “Well, yes. But as you are well aware, a few of our best mutants are telepathic, meaning they could plant a gag order in our heads,” Hank taps his temple with his knuckle, “We couldn’t speak to anyone else about Krakoa for three years until it’s established. Our mind forbade us to speak of it because of the gag order.”
“Masochists, and they are proud of it,” Natasha whispers to Tony in a rush.
“It is troubling. Misunderstandings and arguments have aroused based on the gag order and its implementation.” Hank walks them through the long hallway from one building to another, “But we agreed it’s for the best at that moment.”
Tony makes a face that isn’t as obvious, but Steve and Natasha could tell that’s his disapproving face.
As Hank opens another door for them, the first thing they see is a little girl playing with her toy car on a tall chair. She slides the car down from a colorful track, and the track would deliver the toy car back to her hands.
“Maddison!” Hank rushes to her side, looking up and down to see whether the girl got hurt, “What are you doing here?”
“Mommy needs to pick up something.” Maddie points at you, cheering, “Look! Mommy Mommy!” She drops her toy car to the ground, and jumps off the tall chair, running to you and hugging your thigh.
Steve stops breathing. Seeing you, well and alive in front of him, with your daughter, in a rosy-pink dress that you bought while dating him a few years back.
You look … the same.
“Get behind me, Maddie.” You tug the little girl on her arm, to have her shielded fully behind your legs. An undetectable shakiness in your voice.
Maddie peeks from behind you. She doesn’t understand where this tension is coming from, but she understands one thing: “Mommy, is that Daddy?” She raises her head and asks.
You hate to lie to your daughter. But you are not going to let her be exposed to Natasha and Tony, and most importantly, Steve.
“Christ. It’s Y/N.” Tony mutters.
“Mommy, he looks exactly like the photo you showed me.” Maddie asks in confusion, pointing towards Steve, “He looks exactly like Daddy?”
“Maddison, not now.” It takes all your willpower not to push them all out of the lab at once, “Hank, would you mind?” You glance icily at Hank, urging him to solve the problem at hand.
“Yes, of course.” Hank starts to head the other way, “I’m sorry, but we’re behind schedule. If you would come with me-”
“No one is coming anywhere until we deal with this,” Tony announces, one hand already on his wristwatch, which you know contains a small plasma canon if he activates it.
“Is she…?” Steve knows the answer to his question before he asks. The hair and the eyes are similar to his, and the nose and lips resemble yours-
“Boys,” Natasha raises her voice, “Let’s be civil, shall we?”
“How old is she?” Steve feels a lump down his throat, “is she-”
“Civil?” You let out a dry laugh, the exact opposite of amused, “Tony Fucking Stark is ready to attack when he pulls out that wristwatch. And Natasha, long time no see, the same goes for your widow bites too. Yeah, I saw the glowing blue under your sleeves. You are trying to take my child away from me in a heartbeat and call yourself civil?”
“Tony, Nat.” Steve speaks.
Two words that bring the two of them away from their weapons.
You pick Maddie up from the ground, having your back to the Avengers, protecting your daughter from their grasp, “Let’s go, Maddie. I am apparently not welcomed here.”
“Y/N!” Steve calls to your back, “Y/N, please!”
Natasha is tempted to step forward and ask you to stay and talk this out, being blocked by Hank.
“I assume it is best that you stay right where you are,” Hank says politely, though his thin body has no intention of moving.
Maddie hugs your neck, laying her head on your shoulders. Her blue eyes focusing on Steve while you walk away.
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Chapter 1: A Delightful Encounter
Series: “The Heart Wants What It Wants”
Word count: 1,0k+
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Baker! Reader
Warnings: none
A/n: I had so much fun writing this! All chapters will be around 1k or 2k words. This is also my first entry to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: writer’s choice - first meeting)! Events Masterlist
Let me know your thoughts and please reblog.
Main Masterlist
Mayans MC Masterlist
NEXT CHAPTER
Angel enters the new bakery, his boots making a slight thud as he crosses the wooden floor. His eyes take in the cozy atmosphere and the pale green hue of the walls while the mouth-watering scents of baking bread and pastries tickle his nostrils. The interior is inviting, and the various tables and chairs in the central area provide a comfortable spot to sit and enjoy one's treats. He can’t help but feel slightly out of place. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his leather kutte and body decorated by tattoos.
He takes a moment to appreciate the homey vibe of his surroundings before heading toward the counter. He gazes at the array of baked goods, hypnotized by the view of colorful muffins, cakes, fresh golden buns, and loaves of bread.
The person working behind the counter greets him in a friendly tone adorned by a pinch of shyness. The man in the leather kutte, his face obscured by the chunky dark sunglasses, merely nods in reply and gives a small wave. He feels the employe observing him as he tries to decide what to purchase.
Felipe sent him over early in the morning to get some freshly baked bread for breakfast. It was barely eight, and he’d give everything to be back in his bed, snoring away. His eyes were closing up on the ride here, but the smells of the bakery woke him up in seconds.
Angel quickly peruses the selection of baked goods, his hand striding over the glass display case but not touching its surface. His gaze lands on a shiny, golden-brown loaf of bread, and his eyes light up.
He looks back at the person behind the counter and nods once more, pointing toward the product before his brain finally registers the vision before him. He freezes in his spot, brown orbs glued to your delicate silhouette as you lean down to reach inside the display.
You’re breathtakingly beautiful, standing there with a friendly smile, your eyes shining and dark eyelashes fluttering with every blink. Your hair is braided and thrown over your shoulder, the soft tresses swaying delicately against it with every movement. It’s as if every part of you is a work of art meant to be admired and appreciated. And as you continue to smile at Angel, he can’t help but be enthralled by your grace. You don’t even seem to be bothered by the early hour—there’s absolutely no trace of dark circles under your eyes.
You take out the loaf of bread, wrapping it quickly in a dark green wax cloth. The man keeps staring as you nudge it toward him and state the price. He takes out his wallet and fumbles with it for a minute before he finally manages to find the 10$ bill and hands it to you.
You take his ten dollars, put it in the register, and then place his change on the counter. His heart does a backflip as you part your lips to speak up. They seem so soft and plump. “Here you go, sir. Your change,” you say, pointing towards the stack of bills and coins.
“Nah, it’s fine. Keep it as a tip,” he replies, waving you off as he slides the change back to you, only taking the wrapped-up bread from the wooden surface.
You look surprised but insist, “Sir, you gave me too much. It’s too much just for a loaf of bread.” He can tell you have a good heart.
Angel thinks for a moment, then grins wildly, no ounce of hesitation left. “Not just for the bread. It’s for your great service.”
You’re flustered, your cheeks getting warmer with every passing moment—with every playful quirk of his lips. The man isn’t giving in as he flashes you another charming smile. You’re speechless. There was no point in resisting even though you didn’t think you did much that could be considered “great service”. You just smiled and served him his purchase; you do it all the time.
The corner of your peach-colored lips quirks up shyly as you finally nod your head in thanks. You take out one fluffy blueberry muffin from the display and place it on the counter in front of him. “Consider it a token of my appreciation then.”
A beat of silence falls between the two of you as you stare at each other, enjoying the light tension that sends sparks down your body. The man is almost beaming with pride at his own charm, while you’re wondering what lies beneath those dark shades. The fact that you can’t see his eyes is infuriating—eyes are the window to the soul, after all. Just when you manage to regain your composure, he speaks up again.
“Tell you what,” Angel says, his voice low and confident. “I’d love to stop by again, just to see your smile.”
You give him exactly what he wants as you smile brightly at his words, feeling your cheeks flush with heat even more—you didn’t even think it was possible. “Of course, you’re welcome here any time,” you reply.
The man nods happily. “Great,” he says, a grin stretching across his face. “I’ll be sure to stop by often. I’m a sucker for delicious pastries and beautiful smiles.”
You’re taken aback by his words but appreciate the kindness. A warm, happy feeling bubbles within you—a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. You are surprised that a man like him—the complete opposite of what you were usually looking for in a romantic partner—can make you feel weak in the knees by such a brief interaction.
“And I’d be thrilled to have you stop by again,” you stammer out, finding yourself lost in the pull of his presence. There’s a sparkle of excitement in your voice that only fuels his smugness.
The man chuckles, unable to hide his delight, as he turns around and starts walking toward the exit. When he reaches for the door handle, you quickly lean over the counter and call out to him. He turns around, surprise painted on his face, and you’re just as taken aback as he is at your sudden holler.
“What’s your name?” you ask, tapping your fingers on the wooden surface in anticipation. It’s new to you, breaking the barriers of your shyness for someone you just met, but it feels so right.
The stranger lifts up his sunglasses to his forehead for a second, looking you up and down. You’re instantly mesmerized by the rich brown color of his eyes. You feel them luring you in—hypnotizing you. You’re surprised you're even able to catch the words that leave his mouth.
“Angel,” he replies, setting the sunglasses back on his nose. You already find yourself missing his gaze on your person. “Take care of yourself, dulce.”
Taglist: @danzer8705
#angel reyes x reader#angel reyes x you#angel reyes fic#angel reyes x female reader#angel reyes imagines#angel reyes#Mayans MC#mayans#mayansmc#writing challenge#the slumber party#the slumber party's bingo event
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Tiger, Tiger
Title: Tiger, Tiger
Summary: Red John has captured you and he’s given Patrick 24 hours to find you.
Warnings: Patrick Jane (I feel like he deserves his own warning label); angst, angst, angst; mentions of being assaulted/battered; mentions of blood; brief character death; C.P.R.; mentions of guns/weapons; with a tiny bit of fluff at the end. I believe I’ve listed all of the warnings and I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read. If any of the listed warnings make you uncomfortable please do not read.
A/N: This is my story for the week one writing challenge, I Spy, for the @the-slumberparty event. I used a generator to come up with my theme and setting. The theme I got was ‘serial killer’ and the setting I got was ‘modern day’. So naturally, the Mentalist, ‘Red John’ serial killer popped into my head and I loved how this turned out! I hope you enjoy it!
Wordcount: 2,893
Patrick Jane had just finished making his fresh cup of tea and as he lifted the cup to his mouth, he took a deep breath in. He loved starting the work day off with a cup of tea, it helped him relax. As he took a couple of drinks from his cup he watched the other agents as they rushed by the small kitchen. They were always in such a hurry. He stole another minute to himself before he glanced down at his watch and a smile started to work its way onto his lips. You should be here any minute. He took another drink from his cup before he turned around to grab another cup for you. You loved tea just as much as he did, which was just one of the many things he liked about you. While he prepared your cup, he thought back to the day that he met you.
He had just walked into the small kitchen to fix himself some tea when he spotted you. You were using his favorite cup and before he could say anything, you were walking past him. He shook his head and snapped out of his thoughts before he called out to you.
“Excuse me, that’s my cup.”
You paused and turned around to face the person who had just spoken. “‘Scuse me?”
Patrick couldn’t lie, you were quite beautiful and he could easily get lost in your eyes. He took a couple of steps towards you, he pointed at you as he did. “That’s my cup.”
You took a drink from the cup before you examined it. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t see your name on it.”
Patrick narrowed his eyes at you as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Who are you anyway?”
You smirked at his question before you took a sip of tea and walked away, putting a little bounce in your step as you did. Patrick was in awe and all he could do was watch.
“Patrick!”
Patrick was brought out of his thoughts when he heard his name being called and groaned. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was Theresa who was calling for him, he would probably just ignore the person. He rubbed the back of his neck before he set down the cup he had gotten out for you. When he got to the bullpen workplace, he noticed how his coworkers stopped what they were doing and turned to face him. The once light and airy atmosphere that was just there a minute ago turned into a more constricted one. Something was going on, he could tell. He was about to ask his team members what was going on until he noticed it. How he had missed it was beyond him because he swore when he walked in just a bit ago it wasn’t there. He was frozen in his spot at the sight of the funeral bouquet sitting there on an easel. It sat there taunting him as if he should know better than to love again. “No, it couldn’t be,” Patrick thought to himself. He approached the display with caution as if it would out and attack him. When he reached the display, he took in a sharp breath at the words that were written on the sash, ‘I’m sorry for your loss’. Patrick could feel his whole body go numb and he knew exactly what this meant. Red John had gotten to you.
“Jane?” Theresa inquired as she gently placed her hand on his upper arm and paused, waiting for him to reply. She glanced over her shoulder to her other coworkers, concern written all over her face before she returned her attention back to Patrick. “Jane?”
At the second ‘Jane’, he finally turned his attention towards the others and demanded a question. “When did this get here?”
Grace, Kimball, and Wayne all shook their heads in response, not sure when the flowers were delivered. Before anyone could answer Patrick’s question, his phone started to ring. He pulled out his phone from his pant’s pocket and answered it instantly.
“Hello?” Patrick did his best to remain calm.
“Hello Patrick, did you miss me?” A high-pitched, male’s voice came through the receiver.
Patrick’s blood ran cold, it was just as he had thought: His worst nightmare had come to life.
“Where is she?” Patrick informed, his voice firm and doing his best to keep it even.
“She is rather pretty, isn’t she? I can tell you have a type.” Red John commented, completely ignoring Patrick’s question.
Patrick aimlessly took a few steps forward as he heard you whimper in the background. “If you do anything to her at all, I will find you and I will kill you.”
Red John chuckled at Patrick’s threat and even though he knew Patrick couldn’t see it, he smirked. “You have twenty-four hours to find her. Good luck.”
With that, Red John hung up the phone and a curse slipped from Grace’s mouth. She had quickly moved from her spot next to Wayne and over to her desk when the phone call was answered. She had typed furiously to try and trace where the phone call was coming from. “Damn it! I almost had it!”
Theresa and Patrick went over to Grace’s desk to see what she was talking about. A grid map was pulled up onto her computer screen and there were mapped out cell phone towers. She let out a frustrated sigh before she spoke up again.
“Sorry, I almost had him. I was only able to narrow it down to a certain area but it’s rather big.” Grace explained as she made a few clicks with her computer mouse and zoomed in on the area she was talking about.
“Good work, Van Pelt.” Theresa reassured her colleague. Theresa then took a deep breath before she walked to the center of the bullpen. She tucked her thumbs into her front belt loops before she started talking and giving orders. “Alright, everyone, we have a fellow agent in danger. Whatever you’re working on, I want you to bury it until further notice. We need all hands on decks. Let’s get a move on people, we have twenty-four hours!” Theresa then looked back at Patrick who gave her an appreciative nod. “We’re going to find her Jane.” Theresa did her best to be confident with her reassurance. This was Red John after all.
“I need some air.” Patrick excused himself and he was out of the building before anyone could stop him.
Kimball and Wayne exchanged looks, worry was etched onto their features. They knew what you meant to not just Patrick but Theresa as well. When you first started, Theresa had introduced you as her best friend and with a proud smile on her face. They quickly changed their demeanor as they nodded at one another and started to get busy trying to find you. They didn’t want to get told twice.
You grunted as you pulled against the leather cuffs that had you strapped to an uncomfortable wooden chair. It took a minute for your vision to become clear, you don’t remember passing out. Although, with all of the torture that you’ve endured within the past several hours, it was bound to have happened. You tried to get a good look at your surroundings again but it was nearly impossible. The only light source that the room provided was a singular, hanging overhead light. It was probably on purpose though, your captor didn’t want to be seen or to know where you were. You could feel goosebumps start to rise over your skin as you heard footsteps coming towards you. Your breath hitched when your kidnapper was finally in front of you. From what you could tell, he was wearing a mask and a hideous one at that.
“Good, I’m glad you’re awake. For a moment there I thought I had lost you. I can tell you’re a strong one though. A fighter.” Red John said, his high-pitched voice sent a cold chill through your body.
You balled up your hands and flexed them as you gritted your teeth. You needed to pick and choose your battles. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Red John stopped his pacing before he began to click his tongue. “You see, I know a lot more about you than you yourself know. But we don’t have time for that.” He paused and looked down at his watch before his shrill voice continued to pierce your ears. “After all, I only have a limited time with you and I want to have more fun.”
You tried not to wince when his gloved finger caressed the side of your face and you did your best to try and pull away. He chuckled at your attempt as his finger continued to trail down the column of your neck. Your eyes began to fill with water as Red John picked up the necklace around your neck. It felt like an eternity as Red John stood there and examined the quaint diamond necklace. Patrick had given it to you as an anniversary present. It was simple really, a single diamond on a white gold chain but you cherished it and wore it every day. A gasp escaped from you when Red John tore the necklace from your neck and pocketed it. Just as you thought he was about to walk away and leave your battered body, he turned back around and a harsh smack met your cheek.
“Boss, I’ve got something!” Grace called out, she was sure that she found your location. Not just sure but she would stake her job on it.
Just as Theresa and Patrick rushed over to Grace’s desk, Kimball and Wayne were walking back into the office. They had gone to your apartment to see if they could find anything out of place. When Patrick noticed them, he looked at them with a small bit of hope. But when they shook their heads no, Patrick returned his attention back to Grace. Kimball and Wayne immediately joined them to see what was going on.
“Alright, so I was able to do a little more digging based off of the incomplete trace from earlier. You see this satellite point,” Grace pointed to a small dot on the screen before she continued. “It was one of the ones that was blinking earlier. I checked that area and it’s nothing but woods and cabins up there. So, I ran the names of people who owned them and there’s one that stands out. A fellow by the name of Dr. Roy.”
“That’s it, it’s gotta be. Great job Grace!” Patrick confirmed before he went over to grab his jacket.
“Alright, let's move it people! Cho, I want you to call for a S.W.A.T. team and meet us there, also let them know there’s a hostage! Van Pelt, forward that address to the S.W.A.T. team and to me. Jane, you’re with me. Rigsby, I want you to call Sac. P.D. and let them know that we have a hostage situation on our hands. Let them both know that the suspect is considered armed and dangerous.” Theresa barked out orders as she double checked her gun and she received multiple ‘yes boss’s’ from her team.
When they finally got to the cabin, the teams approached with caution and they had their weapons ready. Theresa motioned for one of the teams to go around back and they did as they were told. They moved swiftly and quietly to the back of the cabin. The team in front breached the door within a matter of minutes and they immediately crossed the threshold to begin their search for you. Once they cleared the house with no sign of you, Patrick went outside to catch his breath and think. He placed his hands on his hips and just as he turned around, he noticed something in the distance.
“Theresa! I think I’ve found something!” Patrick called out to his colleague. He motioned for her to come over to him when he noticed her coming out of the cabin.
“What is it Jane?” She asked as she arched an eyebrow at him.
Patrick pulled her over to the side a few inches and he pointed to a spot in between two trees. “What do you see Lisbon?”
Theresa squinted her eyes through the narrow tree line. “Is that a barn?”
“I believe it is and I bet that’s where he’s keeping her.” Patrick confirmed and just before he could take off towards the barn, Theresa grabbed ahold of him.
“Hey, we’re doing this the right way and we’re gonna be smart about this.” Theresa ordered, her face as serious as her tone.
Patrick looked taken aback before he became just as serious as his partner. “How can you just stand there and say that?! I thought you cared about her?!”
Now it was Theresa’s turn to be the one taken aback. “That is my best friend in there and I’m worried sick about her! So, don’t for one second think that I don’t care. But this is Red John we’re talking about so we have to be smart.”
Patrick took a deep breath before he exhaled. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
Just then Kimball had walked up to them with his bolt-action rifle in hand. “Cabin’s empty boss. What’s our next move?”
“Alright, get the S.W.A.T. team ready, we have another building to look through.” Theresa commanded and without saying another word, Cho walked away.
The S.W.A.T. and Sac. P.D. teams were ready to go and were waiting for command within minutes. Just as before, there was one team that waited at the back of the barn while one remained at the front. One of the S.W.A.T. team members stood across from Theresa and Patrick as he listened for any sign of movement. Once he was satisfied, he gave Theresa a short nod who wasted no time in signaling to him the okay. A loud bang filled the intense silence as the battering ram met the wooden door, causing the door to splinter. Theresa led the team inside with her gun and flashlight aimed as she called out a ‘clear’ after every turn.
When they reached the center of the large barn, Theresa scanned the room before her light landed on you. A horrified gasp escaped her as she saw the state of your battered body. Your head was hung low and you were still strapped to the chair. You were still, too still for Theresa’s liking. She took a few steps towards you but before she could get to you, Patrick had forced his way into the barn. When he caught the sight of you, he froze in his spot. Theresa tried to keep Patrick back but wasn’t able to. He easily pulled out of her grasp and rushed over to you with Theresa hot on his heels. The pair of them quickly began to remove the leather cuffs that kept you restrained. Once they had you freed from the restraints, Patrick carefully moved you from the chair and to the ground. He immediately checked for a pulse and when he couldn’t find one, he started C.P.R. right away.
After a few minutes, Patrick leaned back onto his heels as he sat on his knees. He gulped in deep deep breaths as he waited for what seemed like an eternity. The air was thick around him and he barely felt Theresa place her hand on his shoulder. Tears began to well up in his eye but before one could escape, you jolted forward and started to gasp for air. Patrick quickly scooped you up into his arms and held onto you tightly.
“Patty, I need to breathe.” You struggled to say in between deep breaths.
Patrick let out a weak chuckle before he loosened up his grip on you. “Sorry sweetheart, you had me so worried.”
You tried to laugh but ended up coughing instead. You took a deep breath before you continued. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Patty.”
Patrick smirked in response. “Oh, I know, you’re too stubborn. Theresa on the other hand was about to give up on you.”
You did your best not to laugh as Theresa smacked Jane on the shoulder. “I was not. I’m gonna go see if the ambulance is here.” Theresa gave you a small smile before she got up and left.
Patrick then cupped your cheek and gently started to caress the bloodied skin. He leaned down and gave you a meaningful kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes and relished at the feeling. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to experience this again. When you opened your eyes, you took in Patrick’s face and pulled him in for a kiss. When you pulled apart, you paused to catch your breath and a weak smile curled up on your face.
“I love you Patrick.” You said in between each breath.
Patrick’s face brightened up and he grinned from ear to ear. “Hey, I wanted to say that first.”
He then leaned down and kissed you again before the paramedics came to wheel you away.
#navy and roo sleepover#slumber party event#weekly event#writing challenge#i spy challenge#the mentalist#patrick jane#tiger tiger#patrick jane x reader#patrick jane oneshot#the mentalist oneshot#simon baker#simon baker characters
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Chemical Attraction
Warnings 18+ for the following:- Non-Consensual Sex, Dubious Consensual Sex, Smut {f/f), Oral {female receiving], Edging, Thigh Riding, Somnophilia, Sex Pollen. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.
By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.
Author’s Note 1:- Written for Navy & Roo's @the-slumberparty Bingo Challenge I managed (with a few days to spare) to combine the bingo choices circled below.
My first Bingo Card challenge, this is also my first attempt at Spy and Sex Pollen and for the writer’s choice I went with a touch of Enemies To Lovers. Hope anyone who reads this enjoys it as much as I did writing it.
Synopsis:- Noticing that something isn't quite right at S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury tasks Maria Hill with finding out what secrets you may be privy to.
Pairings:- dark!Maria Hill x Female Reader.
Word Count:- 5,875
Figuring out where you lived and getting into your apartment was easy. Way too easy she thought considering who you were and where you worked. Still though, the woman now carefully toying with your door was no ordinary spy either which explained quite a lot really. Next to only a handful of others, she was one of the very best operatives S.H.I.E.L.D. had at their disposal and the fact that Nick Fury himself considered her his right hand person actually spoke volumes regarding her talents. After all that man barely trusted his own shadow.
Sliding her lock picks out of the lock, Maria now took one last quick look up and down the hall before twisting the handle gently, pushing open the door and slipping into your apartment completely unnoticed. Closing the door behind her then, the first thing she noticed however was how little of anything appeared to be here. To be honest the place actually looked deserted which did not bode well for why she was here and if it wasn't for the fact that she had already followed you home she wouldn't have believed anyone even lived here.
But then she had waited for you to leave before entering. Ignoring the emptiness now, she instead acknowledged that being Pierce's personal secretary and thus a member of S.H.I.E.L.D. like her, you would of course be expected to work long hours that left little or no time to actually have a life. But damn, this was no way for anyone to live. Even her home away from S.H.I.E.L.D., Fury and all that this life of covert espionage entailed became her sanctuary. Then over the years as more and more of the world descended into chaos, that home had become her refuge. But walking around your apartment now it seemed all you had was work and it saddened her despite her reason for being here in the first place.
Though part of her couldn't really say she was surprised. After all like Fury, Alexander Pierce was a hard ass who expected the best from those that worked for him, but somehow Fury still seemed to remember that the people who chose to dedicate their lives to this cause were still human. That they still possessed hopes and dreams for their future. Pierce on the other hand seemed to have completely killed yours.
Setting aside this thought however as her purpose here returned to her, Maria quickly got back on point and began searching every inch of your apartment for any little scrap of information that might prove useful to Fury and his investigation of Pierce. Finding nothing of use anywhere however and still a bit saddened by the lack of your personality in a place that should have been overflowing with it, she meticulously set up the cameras before slipping back into the hall and out of the building again.
Knowing now that time was of the essence and that as such she would be back to find out if your prestigious position at S.H.I.E.L.D. held any valuable information, she still knew a day or two was needed to find out your routine away from the world that seemed to smother every other aspect of your life. Checking in with Fury then, she headed off to the nearest S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house to continue trolling for any and all information she could find on you until that pompous, arrogant ass released you back into the world. But neither of you it seemed would be prepared for that.
Watching you on the cameras for two more days as you lived your life away from S.H.I.E.L.D., Maria quickly began to realize that not only was the apartment a true reflection of how all consuming your work life was, but it also wouldn't furnish her and Fury with any further insight into the man currently on her boss's radar.
No, this it seemed would need a more in-depth and personal approach on her part.
Coming home late both nights apparently exhausted to the point where you quite literally pulled off your clothes and fell into bed, morning then found you showering quickly before heading out the door. Hell you didn't even sit down to eat breakfast here. Wondering now how best to find out about the missing pieces of your life, the third night since this assignment started found Maria back in your apartment with quite a few more problems on her hands than she ever had before this whole thing started.
Usually one well versed at keeping her mind where it was supposed to be, the images of you on camera, naked on your bed or covered in foam as you showered, had seriously tested that focus. But here now standing by your bedside, was definitely the devil's work. Reigning in her thoughts just long enough to grab your phone and install the tracking software necessary to help fill in the missing chunks of your day, she was just about to head back out and deal with the feelings your presence has awakened within her when the softest of moans reached her ears and sent a shockwave through her system unlike any she had ever felt before. It was like a siren's call.
Cursing under her breath now as she turned back around and took in your sleeping form once more, Maria tried to remind herself why exactly she was here, but it was to prove useless. Closing the distance between you step by step, she stopped momentarily however as you rolled over and opened your eyes before sleep caught you once again and pulled you back into its embrace. Which to any sane person should have been her cue to leave. But for some unknown reason she couldn't do it.
Gazing on you now as your chest gently rose and fell with each breath you took, her eyes roaming over your glorious frame simply confirmed something she had always known ... technology, no matter how advanced it became or what it could accomplish, could never replace or replicate the human form. And yours was exquisite.
Grazing her hand gently now along your cheek and over your lips, a shuddering breath from her joined the sounds your own body made when without your knowledge, your lips parted slightly and you sucked her finger into your mouth and set her senses alight. For oh how divine and talented your mouth was. Continuing to suckle her digit now as her other hand took on a life of its own and ventured down to fondle your nearest breast, the sensations building in her core would have seriously jeopardized the mission if fate hadn't somehow chosen the next moment however to intervene.
Releasing her finger and rolling back onto your side, the spell you had cast over her seemed to be broken for now as Maria quickly stepped back from your bedside and came to her senses. Acknowledging now that this was extremely dangerous territory, she took one last look around to ensure that nothing was out of place and checking her phone one more time to confirm the tracking software on yours was working correctly, Maria then turned around again and this time swiftly exited your apartment knowing it was time to take a much different approach.
One far less tempting.
Reporting back to Fury then on how her investigation was progressing before calling it a night, the restless sleep that now plagued her did nothing to raise her hopes of success. If anything, the dreams she now found herself sinking into threatened to derail her focus so much that Maria woke the next morning actually wondering if she should pass this task off to someone else. But how then to accomplish that while explaining that particular development to Fury.
"Hey boss, I know you wanted me to handle Pierce's secretary personally and I hate to disappoint you, but honestly, my horny little pussy got the better of me and I think there would be a greater chance of success if you appoint someone else to mine this particular source." Yeah right she thought with a laugh. Fury would burst a blood vessel if even one of his agents came to him with a statement like this. But if she did it? Hell, as courageous and all as Maria Hill was, that was not a scenario she was willing to allow to play out in real life. No, she would get her hormones under control and find some way to get whatever information you had that might prove useful.
Thankfully however you would unknowingly help eliminate all her options in that matter and fix her little problem in one easy stroke.
Finishing up her breakfast as the cameras' feed from your apartment lit up her laptop, the phone tracking software still confirmed your location until you finally left your home and headed out into the world. Shutting off the screen then and heading out after you, Maria was both shocked and surprised by your initial encounter. Following every twist and turn that lead both of you straight to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters, the coffee shop in the grand lobby of the Triskelion was your first stop and as both of you waited in line to order your first beverages of the day, your behavior told her things were far more complicated than they first appeared.
Having found out everything she could about your life before S.H.I.E.L.D., one thing was glaringly different back then compared to now ... you actually had a life. You studied hard and got a good education, volunteered one day every weekend while holding down a part time job. You even carved out some free time to make friends and socialize with them. Now however you barely even existed. In fact, by the time her first encounter with you was over she was beginning to think of you as nothing more than an absolute total bitch.
Taking your coffee and bagel order from the counter when placed before you, you quickly tapped your card on the machine, turned around and walked off towards the nearest exit. Tap. Turn. Walk. Simple, cold and efficient. There was no thank you to the employee behind the counter who had served you and taken the time to wish you a nice day. No acknowledgement of the hello Maria herself had offered you when you turned around to face her, stepped to the side and simply walked off.
No, to you these random acts of kindness hadn't even occurred.
Was it you, she now wondered or was it this job and Pierce’s demanding standards that had initiated this change. Either way, she knew her job would be a whole lot harder now than she first thought when collecting her own order and finding herself alone in an elevator with you a few minutes later left her feeling cold and defeated for you actually seemed to dislike her.
Trying to strike up a conversation as the elevator traveled upwards, the almost vacant stares or one word answers left her re-evaluating her whole strategy towards you now. She was going to need some type of help it seemed and she was going to need it fast. Already taking far longer than it should have and now discovering that you were far more hostile than she ever thought possible, Maria actually began to wonder as you left the elevator if perhaps you were even you.
An evil twin. A clone. A life model decoy even. Something had to be seriously screwed up somewhere if this job had indeed wiped out all your personality and turned you into nothing more than a functioning machine that walked and looked like a human being. Cause you sure as hell didn't sound like one. Your attitude was distant, your face seemed fixed in a permanent scowl and remaining in the elevator now as you quickly exited without so much as acknowledging her continued presence, Maria in that split second knew exactly what she needed to do. She just wasn't sure she should do it. It was, after all, a highly risky move. But it may be the only way.
Continuing to find herself in your space throughout the day with even less success than the elevator ride that morning, clocking off time came and Maria left the Triskelion knowing now there was no other way. So getting in her car and driving off to the required S.H.I.E.L.D. R & D facility, she thanked her lucky stars that it was only Colin that was on the premises tonight. It meant fate was finally smiling on her in some small way.
Now spending the customary few minutes catching up with him before passing along the two all access passes to the next Stark Expo that she knew would excite his son and thereby get her into and out of this facility without any questions or searches, Maria then made her way to the chemicals lab and quickly inserted the S.H.I.E.L.D. bypass usb stick into the nearest computer. Moving around the lab then as the software wormed its way into the network and gave her full control over the facility, Maria carefully searched through every cabinet until her eyes finally rested on the compound she was looking for. Heading back to the computer then and unlocking the necessary door, she now reached in and withdrew the canister as her eyes rested on the information plaque.
Was she really doing this?
Feeling the weight of the canister in her hand and what using it actually meant, the seconds of uncertainty ticked by until a powerful image invaded her mind and solidified her course. This was what was needed. What both of you needed. That last push you required to give up Pierce's secrets and relieve the desire that watching you had created within her was literally in her grasp.
Finally resolving to head down this murky path, Maria then closed the cabinet door and traversed the few small steps to the nearest workstation before pulling up the necessary instructions on how to alter the canister's contents and bind you to her permanently. Pricking her finger then and adding the red drop to the canister before placing it in the necessary chamber as directed, waiting as the timer ticked down towards completion drove home what she was about to do and the future that lay ahead as a result.
You were going to be hers.
Returning then to the computer once the reaction was completed, she swiftly set about altering the cabinet contents figures before erasing all evidence that she was ever there. Pocketing the canister and usb stick then, she said her goodbyes to Colin and headed off towards your apartment to hopefully get some answers that would satisfy Fury.
Climbing up the fire escape and entering through your bedroom window this time, Maria watched your sleeping form momentarily as the reality of what she was about to do actually sunk in and what it meant for her.
Could she really do this to you? Had you changed so thoroughly under Pierce's employ that you were now a being who deserved to be treated as nothing more than an enemy that information had to be extracted from by any means necessary? For that matter had she herself changed into the type of person to employ such tactics?
Pondering all this as she sat down in the chair across from your sleeping form while rolling the canister in her palm, her phone vibrating with a message from Fury looking for any update pulled her out of all her self examination and reminded her of why this action was even required. Something was seriously off at S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury knew it. She knew it. Hell even you had changed completely since coming to work there.
No, rising from the chair now and confirming her phone was still on silent, her mind was at last made up. So opening the canister as she stood now before your sleeping form, all doubt vanished as quickly as the mist that now settled over you and began to work its way into your system as the brunette returned to her chair and vowed to show you everything she had to offer when this was all over. But first she simply had to wait for the pollen to take hold. Which actually didn't take that long at all.
Watching you tossing and turning in your sleep, Maria knew the sex pollen had started to take effect when your hands began trying to soothe the itch irritating your body though your eyes still remained closed to the world. Licking her lips as her eyes now focused on every movement, every tiny noise that escaped your lips, Maria knew her resolve couldn't hold any longer when a sheen of moisture began to slowly form along your skin. She had to act.
Rising from the chair again and this time laying down by your side, your hands still roaming over your frame were now joined by hers as she tentatively reached out and skimmed her fingers along your arm. Trailing them across your collar bones next before venturing downwards as you suddenly began coughing while Maria's lips scattered tender kisses along your arms, the moisture leaking from your core as her fingers reached their desired location told her all she really needed to know.
Your body was ready for her.
Lightly pinching and pulling on your intimate folds now as the change in your breathing indicated sleep was releasing you from its hold, Maria toyed with you for as long as she could before placing her thumb over your clit as her fingers breached your sex. Stroking your insides now as moan after sweet sounding moan mixed with the effect of the pollen on your airways, your back arched and an almost strangled bark left your lips as the orgasm she pulled from you finally forced you from your slumber.
Waking up as your eyes widened in terror now from the brunette's hand between your thighs as the feel of her lips still lingered on your skin, you somehow leaped from the bed without her interference and reaching for your gun turned it on her to find her propped up now against the headboard as if she hadn't just been caught violating you in your sleep. Trying to get your thoughts straight now even though all you really wanted was to feel her body pressed up against yours, you glanced around quickly to make sure no one else was here before turning your focus back completely on the unwelcome intruder invading your home and your pussy.
"Fuck Ms.Hill, I'd be well within my rights to shoot you and don't think I won't," you wheezed out as your eyes adjusted to the low lighting and recognized Fury's number one deputy while your breathing began to slow, "but how about you save both of us the paperwork and questions and give me one good reason not to."
"Well how about I do you one better and give you two," she replied with a smirk before bringing her fingers to her mouth and licking off your release. An action that to your horror both shocked and excited you once more as you tried to hold the gun steady in your sweaty palms when your unwanted visitor finally spoke again.
"First, and I only point this out in the spirit of full disclosure, that gun isn't loaded," and had you not been so caught off guard by this whole situation and the uncontrollable desires burning within you you would have realized that no one of Maria Hill's experience would allow an enemy's gun to remain within easy range let alone remain loaded.
No this was definitely an oversight on your part. As was your inability to notice the weight differential that would have warned you of this very fact. But chewing yourself out for this mistake would have to wait as the brunette horrified you farther with the second reason you wouldn't shoot her even if you could ... you needed her.
Reaching into her pants pocket to retrieve the now empty canister and tossing it in your direction, your right hand successfully grabbed it as the other still held the now useless gun trained on her. Confirming its previous contents on the label as Maria explained it was now taking hold of you, you finally had enough. Flicking your gaze now between her nodding head and the metal object in your hand, your finger squeezed the trigger and simply confirmed the truth of her first statement when a useless click broke the silence and no bullet left the chamber.
You were totally vulnerable it seemed in more ways than you ever thought possible.
Asking now what exactly it was she wanted from you, her walking towards you and releasing the gun and canister from your hold sent a whole new wave of questions hurtling through your mind however that had nothing to do with her purpose here. It now had more to do with your need as her touch was electrifying. Turning away from you momentarily to place the gun and the canister back on your nightstand, you could feel the urge now building within you when Maria next took hold of your shoulders and sat both of you on the bed before speaking once more.
"Okay now starlight, tell me everything you know about Pierce and what he's up to and I can give you the release both of us know your body is aching to feel," she stated as her fingers danced and squeezed along your thigh while remaining stubbornly far away from the place you now realized cried out for her attention.
Remaining lucid long enough however to realize that all the attention the past few days had simply been a spy mission to gather intelligence on your boss, your newfound sense of betrayal proved strong enough to temporarily fight off the pollen's effects as you rose from the bed and turned your furious gaze on her.
"Alexander Pierce? That's what all of this is about?,” you questioned as she simply kept quiet as if somehow knowing you still had more to say. “You break into my home. Assault me as I sleep. Then infect me with some strange sex chemical all in the hopes that I'll betray a man far more dangerous than you. You're out of your freaking mind," you yelled now and looking back on this exchange later you would actually wonder if the laugh that left your lips now was as a result of the pollen flooding your system or the absurd request of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent before you.
Either way it didn't really matter. She had to know the danger she was courting here. One of the first things you had learned upon taking up your position was that Pierce was a man not to be trifled with at the best of times and now she and possibly Nick Fury aimed to confront him when something he had been working towards for years was finally coming to fruition. No, you may not know much about what was going on at S.H.I.E.L.D. but you knew enough to keep your head down, your mouth shut and your nose well and truly out of Pierce's business.
Hill would learn nothing from you. Or at least that's what you thought.
Pacing back and forth in front of her now as she simply sat on the bed and watched you like a hawk, the cramps beginning to take hold in your stomach coupled with the heat in your core, had now intensified so much as to make you more determined than ever not to accept the situation you found yourself in. At least until Maria got serious about things.
Finally coming to stand before you and stop your incessant pacing, her questions regarding Pierce's activities, those he associated with and his dealings with the council were not going to be answered by you in your current state as the pollen finally seemed to reach its full potency the second her hands returned to your shoulders. You needed what she offered and nothing else mattered.
Leaning forward then and shutting up the litany of questions hurled in your direction as your lips crashed against the brunette's and your own hands reached out to pull her closer, Maria had the measure of you however as she moved just as quickly and tossed you back on the bed before dropping to the floor and burying her face between your legs.
Licking slowly now along your slit as your body screamed for her to take you while your hands reached down to hold her head in place, all thoughts of Pierce and his secrets were banished from your mind temporarily however as the waves within you grew stronger and stronger until they were ready to crash against the shore and offer you relief.
But that relief would never come.
Displaying a strength you never knew she possessed, Maria pulled back instead just as you were about to come and holding your hands away from your body finally let slip exactly how she planned to make you cooperate. "Oh come on now starlight, tell me what Pierce is up to or you’ll never find relief and the pollen permeating every cell in your body will ensure your demise. Surely he’s not worth that type of an excruciating death?"
Angry now that the great Maria Hill would stoop to such tactics but far more concerned with the high just beyond your reach, you were ready to give her what she wanted until a stronger emotion took hold of you ... doubt. You doubted her resolve. After all, your brain kept telling you exactly what your eyes were seeing. This was Maria Hill. No way she of all people would travel down a path like this. She had morals after all. She was one of the good guys.
No, holding on to that thought now as she simply looked down on you as you fought off the pollen's effects as best you could, this task became a whole lot easier when, with a sudden burst of strength, you kicked Maria from you and this time bolted for the bedroom door to make your escape. An escape that wasn't meant to be however.
Finding the thing locked as a sinister laugh now brought you fully back to the situation before you, you prepared to fight again only for Maria to catch you off guard, slam your back against the door and trap your naked body with her still clothed figure. Running her lips across your chest now as your breathing began to pick up again, her resolve became crystal clear now with the actions that followed. She was totally committed.
Spreading your legs apart now as her upper body still held yours in place, the heat within you sparked to life once more as Maria moved a leg between your own and gently began to glide it back and forth along your dripping snatch. Controlling the pace now as her lips continued to roam over your heated skin, the leather of her suit never felt so good until her probing questions distracted you once more.
"I told you ... I don't know anything," you panted out now before begging her to continue when Maria ceased all her actions again and the unrelenting heat now ever present in your core this time threatened to burn you up from the inside. You needed to come.
Smirking towards you now as your lower body rose forwards from the door towards hers while her hands still held you firmly in place, Maria noticed the subtle changes that indicated your resolve was just about to break and so she went in for the kill. "Do you even know what this particular sex pollen actually does I wonder?" she asked before reaching forwards and closing her lips around your left nipple as a moan unlike any she had ever heard before reached both of your ears. You were almost there.
Looking up into your tear filled eyes now as you shook your head in answer to her question, Maria pulled back once more and chuckled at your protest before moving both of you to the chair she occupied earlier. Sitting comfortably now before placing you back on the thigh that had teased you previously, she moved you along it just enough to get you worked up once more before heading back to her explanation.
"As a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I assume you're familiar with sex pollen in general, right?" she now asked and the slow nod you managed to give her as she continued to bounce you along her thigh was all the confirmation she needed that you were still with her enough to carry on her story. "Well you see, this pollen now circulating throughout your system is actually one that has been genetically modified and thanks to the little addition of my blood, no one but me will ever satisfy you."
Staring back at her now in abject horror as she tossed you to the floor while another wave of pain crashed through your abdomen, her laughter this time confirmed her tale as another wave of heat built up in your core and your fingers plunging into your folds over and over again did nothing to satiate your hunger. In fact it only made you crave her more.
Starting up her questions once more as your legs now opened wider and your fist all but disappeared into your pussy, the longing you still felt as an orgasm ripped through you and yet brought no comfort to your heaving frame, told you that answering her questions was now the only real thing that would give your body what it craved.
But could you do it?
Closing your eyes now as you thought of the consequences of betraying Pierce, you also focused in on the voice in your ear telling you that if you did indeed spill what little you knew, there was perhaps no better ally to have in your corner than Maria Hill. After all, she was Nick Fury's second-in-command and for better or worse Fury had the ear of the Avengers as well as being totally formidable in his own right. You really couldn't lose. Right?
So opening your eyes then as your body recognized Maria's voice saying these words while her hands had, without your knowledge, resumed moving your hips and pussy along her robust thigh, the relief you now felt as her pheromones invaded your senses once more while her body worked yours ever closer to release would have been the last push you needed to give in if she hadn't stopped her teasing once more just as the cliff edge made its presence known. You'd finally reached your limit.
"The Lemurian Star. If Pierce has secrets, that's where you start," you finally cried out as your body couldn't take any more teasing. You needed relief. Her lips. Her fingers. Hell you felt so wired now that you were certain her silky locks trailing up and down your oversensitive body would have sent you hurtling into an orgasm from which you may never recover. But you would take it. You would take whatever she offered.
Rising from the floor instead and leaving you to lie there now as your body still screamed for her undivided attention, Maria grabbed her phone and placing a quick call to Fury with the information you had involuntarily provided then tossed it aside before turning her full attention back on you. It was time to give you what she promised.
Picking up your still protesting body now as you begged and pleaded and promised that you didn't know anything else, her laying you back on the bed before removing her own clothes actually proved a powerful enough image to cut through your hysteria and bring you hope that your ordeal was finally about to come to an end.
Joining you then as the next twenty-four hours brought you never ending release on her thighs, fingers and tongue, hell your sex addled brain even recalled you coming powerfully as Maria's pussy rubbed itself against yours. You finally regained some measure of yourself as the brunette at last lay back against the pillows and brought your cooling body to rest along hers.
Kissing you tenderly all over now as she produced a wet cloth and cleaned your sensitive areas, her then soothing you back to sleep with the promise of more glorious days ahead was enough of a balm to ease your anxiety when she finally got the call that signaled shit was about to hit the fan. Reassuring you now as she dressed quickly that Pierce was no longer going to be a problem, she kissed you just as swiftly before ushering you into the shower while she moved around your room picking up the few items she deemed necessary for your continued survival.
Thankful now for the first time that you never really made this place your home, ten minutes later had both of you scrambling down the fire escape while another twenty minutes after that had her dropping you off at a safe house with the explicit instruction not to move until you heard back from her.
Watching her drive away then as an ache in your heart joined the ache building again between your legs, entering the safe house to find lingering vestiges of the woman that now formed an integral part of your being proved enough of a balm as you picked up a t-shirt from the couch, walked through the building until you found the bedroom and buried yourself in her calming scent. Remaining cocooned there then until word reached you that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had actually fallen, your heart beat a little easier with the realization that Maria would once again be by your side as soon as the dust had settled.
Returning then to sleep's embrace as the memories of soaking her thighs competed with the ones of her lips suckling on your tits threatened to reignite the fire within you, the reality of waking up some time later to find Maria's head firmly attached to your pussy simply confirmed now what your future looked like. Pierce was gone, your life was now your own once more and Maria it seemed was determined to show your body all the pleasure it never knew existed. Pulling you from sleep now with yet another earth shattering release as Maria's tongue pistoned into your flower while her fingers pinched and pulled your sensitive nipples, you finally accepted that your role in this fiasco had totally been worth the price you ultimately paid.
#dark!Maria Hill x Female Reader#Maria Hill#maria hill fanfiction#the slumber party#writing challenge#bingo card
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Challenge for the writers 2024
hello, to all the sturniolo fandom writers
I've made a little challenge for you guys that I would like you to participate in
I'm going to write down a bunch of songs down below and I need you to write down a one shot inspired by that song.
This is obviously optional for everyone if you don't want to do this then no problem!
I will edit this post whenever someone has posted a one shot inspired by the song so no one gets blamed for copying
You guys have no limits. I will choose one winner for each category and two runner ups as well
If you see any songs that are like this it means they're taken
The challenge will end at 10th April, and the winners will be revealed a couple days later
Category's
Smut
Fluff
Angst
Rules:
Choose a song
DM me what song you have picked
Tag me in your post
Specify which category you're participating in
And have fun!
Songs:
"Slut!"- Taylor Swift
Make You Mine- Maddison Beer
Golden Hour- JVKE
Better Than Revenge- Taylor Swift
Back To December- Taylor Swift
Is it Over Now- Taylor Swift
Low- SZA
Playing Dangerous- Lana Del Rey
Get Him Back!- Olivia Rodrigo
Labour- Paris Paloma
Bloodline- Ariana Grande
So It Goes...- Taylor Swift
Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince- Taylor Swift
Should've said no- Taylor Swift
The Great War- Taylor Swift
Willow- Taylor Swift
Lavender Haze- Taylor Swift
Labyrinth- Taylor Swift
Cupid- FIFTY-FIFTY and Sabrina Carpenter
Our Song- Taylor Swift
Nonsense- Sabrina Carpenter
Feather- Sabrina Carpenter
The Heart Wants What It Wants- Selena Gomez
Shake It Off- Taylor Swift
I Knew You Were Trouble- Taylor Swift
Red- Taylor Swift
West Coast- Lana Del Rey
22- Taylor Swift
Bejeweled- Taylor Swift
The Man- Taylor Swift
Style- Taylor Swift
Blank Space- Taylor Swift
Wonderland- Taylor Swift
Wildest Dreams- Taylor Swift
Bad Blood- Taylor Swift
Vigilante Shit- Taylor Swift
Strangers- Kenya Grace
Delicate- Taylor Swift
End Game- Taylor Swift
I Did Something Bad- Taylor Swift
Paper Rings- Taylor Swift
Anti-Hero- Taylor Swift
Bad Idea Right?- Olivia Rodrigo
Enchanted- Taylor Swift
Gorgeous- Taylor Swift
Speak Now- Taylor Swift
Bubble Pop Electric- Gwen Stefani
Cardigan- Taylor Swift
Dress- Taylor Swift
Lover- Taylor Swift
Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift
Earned it- The Weeknd
...Ready For It?- Taylor Swift
Superman- Eminem
Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High- Arctic Monkeys
Daddy Issues- The Neighbourhood, Syd
Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift
Don't Blame Me- Taylor Swift
Video Games- Lana Del Rey
Salvatore- Lana Del Rey
Million Dollar Man- Lana Del Rey
Art Deco- Lana Del Rey
Radio- Lana Del Rey
Sad Girl- Lana Del Rey
Vampire- Olivia Rodrigo
Everybody Wants To Rule The World- Tears For Fears
National Anthem- Lana Del Rey
Summertime Sadness- Lana Del Rey
Sweater Weather- The Neighbourhood
I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys
We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together- Taylor Swift
Karma- Taylor Swift
Because I Liked A Boy- Sabrina Carpenter
Say Yes To Heaven- Lana Del Rey
Boyfriend- Dove Cameron
Older- Isabel LaRosa
I'm Yours- Isabel LaRosa
Eyes Don't Lie- Isabel LaRosa
HEARTBEAT- Isabel LaRosa
all-american bitch- Olivia Rodrigo
People You Know- Selena Gomez
Can't Catch Me Now- Olivia Rodrigo
You Belong With Me- Taylor Swift
Iconique- EMELINE
American Horror Show- SNOW WIFE
Reckless- Madison Beer
CARNIVAL- Kanye West, Playboi Carti, Rich The Kid, etc.
Water- Tyla
Exes- Tate McRae
Agora Hills- Doja Cat
Barbie World- Nicki Minaj and Ice Spice
Moonlight- Kali Uchis
Houdini- Dua Lipa
Slumber Party- Ashnikko, Princess Nokia
Greedy- Tate McRae
Obsessed- Olivia Rodrigo
Softcore- The Neighbourhood
Freaks- Surf Curse
Twin Size Mattress- The Front Bottoms
Me and My Husband- Mitski
Always Forever- Cults
Yes, and?- Ariana Grande
Super Freaky Girl- Nicki Minaj
American Jesus- Nessa Barrett
That's my Girl- Fifth Harmony
2002- Anne-Marie
One of The Girls- The Weeknd, JENNIE, Lili-Rose Depp
@hearts4chriss @evieolo @evie-sturns @flynnriderishot @hysteria-things @breeloveschris @lovingmattysposts @sugrhigh @meg-sturniolo @hoesformatt @vanteguccir @freshloveforthefit @gamermattsgf @b2cute @freshloverr @worldlxvlys @sophssturn @matts-k1tten @sukiipjs @rootbeerworshiper @teapartyprincess4two @muwapsturniolo @freshloveee @chris-slut @fake-sturniolos @solarsturniolo @sturnmaee
SPREAD THIS TOO AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE
#imagine#mattsturniolo#sturniolo imagine#the sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#fans#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#inspired#favorite songs#imagination#blogging
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masterlist (2024)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪷
law of assumption and manifesting
how i write my scripts
a look into my own manifestation
some manifesting exercises
random success story
beginners guide to manifesting
robotic affirming
law of assumption ins and outs
reprogramming subconscious mind
rampaging with manifesting
valentines day prep challenge (day one)
valentines day prep challenge (day two)
valentines day prep challenge (day three)
valentines day prep challenge (day four)
valentines day prep challenge (day five)
valentines day prep challenge (day six)
valentines day prep challenge (day seven)
honeys tea on self concept (improved)
how i make affirmations tapes + affirmation tape
you know how to manifest
ways to apply the law
for when u think u "failed" at manifesting
reprogramming ur mind activity
building a new life and identity (remake)
what to do when the 3d hasn't aligned
how to deal with self doubt when manifesting
i pledge allegiance
how to manifest faster
dealing with the unfavorable
self care and beauty
for healthier hair
shampoo and conditioner recommendations
long list of self care practices
at home spa day
doll hand-book
maintaining a clean and fresh appearance
"your glowing"
general hygiene secrets and tips
hot girl summer prep
glazed doughnut skin secrets
things that are on my list to buy (beauty binder)
mental well being and healing
the feel better formula
the tea on self love
disconnect and heal
ways to feel better about ur appearance
sustained satisfaction
how to keep going
embracing being alone
for rest and relaxation
the happy pill
self care assessment
how to unwind
shadow work prompts
how to stop being toxic
how to feel enough
honeys girlblogging and that girl-ism
starting a video diary
how to deal with mean girls
ur guide to effortless glamor
little habits to adopt
embodying the wellness girlie aesthetic
the wizard liz mindset analysis
hyper girliness
dear diary
starting ur fitness girlie era
dopamine detox challenge
starting a collection
honeys guide to throwing a slumber party
HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE - FEBRUARY EDITION
giving urself princess treatment
video dairy entry ideas
cultivating creativity and a deeper sense of self
starting and managing ur blog
how to be rich and luxurious
HONEYS BUSINESS INQUIRIES
a glamorous well being
incorporating luxury
HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE - MARCH EDITION
productivity and self development
focusing on urself
getting seriously organized
honey's resource bundle
getting it together
a fresh start
trusting and betting on urself
becoming ur own project and self upgrading
reset routine
goal ideas
practicing self discipline
things to do while on a dopamine detox
making an effective planner
the art of conversation (from a professional yapper)
restocking and replenishing
school and studying
school notion tutorial
becoming an academic weapon challenge
studying methods + tips
how to get good grades without excessive studying
academic resources
ways im romanticizing school
pretty and well educated
notes from honey🎀🍰
places to go vision board
notes from honey - note one
notes from honey - note two
things that make my mornings a million times better
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i am obsessed with your writing. really. i would love to read your view on a shadowheart trying to win your heart when she realizes that the other companions also want you. be as fluff or smut as you want! (and of course you don't need to write anything you don't want, really, no pressure) 💕🩷
one step ahead
pairing: shadowheart, background cast x gender-neutral!tav (reader.)
content warnings: alcoholic consumption, lightest bit of suggestive. reverse comfort. religious trauma (shar.), pre-selune shart.
author’s note: i don’t quite know. this is the first time i wrote wothout being high so ahm. this might suck. Uh. so sorry, dear... begging the nines for this to flop. praying hands emoji.
Before discovering:
You’re a darling thing – considerate, easy to like.
Shadowheart vies for your heart, confident she’s the only one. The party is big and Farûn even bigger, surely, they will not take this one thing away from her? She doesn’t take it seriously at first, the way they touch you, look at you, speak of you. No, she ignores it, continues to court you with soft flowers and fold and prayers of blessings upon you. You’re a priority to her, first and foremost. The only thing she has besides Shar’s teachings.
You like her. The way she feels about you is nothing if not refreshing, rid of lust. So you laugh with her, thank her so prettily for her gifts. She’s confident.
After discovering:
It comes to her late at night. She is not the only one who gives you flowers and gold and prayers, it seems. What meager she has to offer the others are extravagant with. She begrudgingly stumbles upon the possibility that you might’ve served more as a distraction than a lover, you’ve been challenging her faith and focus.
Have you swayed her? The same way you have seemingly swayed the other ones in the party?
If there’s one thing Shadowheart has discovered about herself, it’s that she does not like to share. But you are not hers. And is then she begins to descend into thoughts she does not like, about how it would feel to stake a claim over you.
You become more of a trial to overcome, something to have a crisis over.
Shadowheart purses her lips, sulking by the fire. She’s alone, thankfully – but the night is not peaceful for her, as it may be for the others slumbering around. The wind bites at her legs and something akin to heartbreak and envy chews at her heart as she stares at your tent. An abandoned, emptied bottle of putrid wine lay on its side near her.
It should be alarming, how quickly she’s taken to a different sort of nightly activity; chasing away her thoughts of you with wine and whisky instead of praying. She’s half-convinced you’re a hidden disciple of Lady Shar, with the way you invoke loss so easily in her. You must be a test of faith – one she is losing.
If she is bound to lose, she will not go down without tooth and nail. She’s opted for trying to sweep you off your feet, bouquets of orchids, opening her heart to you. Unfortunately, for every endeavor, you’ve tugged an endearing smile at. You’ve sung her praises on how darling of a friend she was – and she had been laughed at, patted on the back with sympathy by those in the party.
She wonders if you’ve even paid mind to how her advances have faltered. How she had herself distanced from you.
Shadowheart huffs, petty. Your heart has been something hotly-contested amongst the camp – for fuck’s sake, amongst everyone you cross, from drows and tieflings to cambions and lords alike. She knows it, she sees how those in the party - especially that damned vampire, drink in your bodice. The lilted curve of your smile. The bob of your throat. She sees how they could just maim one another for a chance at you, and she cannot blame them for their hunger – but it does not soothe her misery.
The idiots make it a competition of sorts; how far they could skirt around their affections without being caught — but Astarion seems to be winning. It is no secret to everyone, of the trysts you share with the vampire. It haunts her; how in the absence of light, he leans over you, pins you to the ground and sinks his teeth into the soft, welcoming flesh of your florid neck. He licks and savors the sanguine off of your skin whilst you whimper in pain beneath him.
During those nights, she cannot help but stay up, even long after the vampire has sauntered off, leaving you bloodless, limping. She strains her ears to listen to you breathe stiltedly. What she wouldn’t give for the chance to eat you up, whisper pretty things to you even as you push against her and whimper.
(During those nights, it is where she cannot help but truly resonate with Lady Shar’s teachings. Embittered, speared with loss with the fact you have plenty of beds to warm, hearts to hold – but none are hers.)
In the morning, she alone fusses and casts a light heal over you, brushing over your wounded neck, ignoring how Astarion will make an innuedo of your taste to irritate his fellow, seething companions. She will ignore how you flush.
Shadowheart is not blind – even the most foolish of fools could see she is not the only one to vie for your heart. She kicks around in the dirt, disgruntled, raking a hand through her otherwise pristine hair. You are a ridiculous conundrum, an enigma that puts her faith, her control at a losing trial — a groan is forced out of her. She would kill to have anything else on her mind but you, you, you, you, who has swarmed and consumed much of her waking thoughts.
Damn you. Damn you for all you are. You must be a cambion amongst the likes of Haarlep with the way you’ve ensnared her.
Before the cleric can run off with gritted teeth, however, a weight is settled on her shoulder from behind. Mortification is quick to take over her, a chill like winter in Icewind Dale, or worse, High Ice, crawling on her spine.
“Hey, you.” Your voice softly greets her. You do not wait for her answer, she figures when you decide to sit down on the log and huddle up to her as a comforting anchor, unaware to the flushed grimace on her face.
It is a brief thought that passes; what if the Nightsong Lady was watching her right at this moment? How will she ever explain this in her prayers? Should she beg that the Lady spare you? She gapes like a dehydrated fish on land when you burrow yourself further to her side and meet eyes with her.
You do not know you look how ambrosian you are at this moment. You are warm. You are soft and you are alone. Right in front of her, nestling into her, even – unknowing that she is on the prepice of some circle of hell, one riddled with indecision. Should she swoop you off your feet, profess her affections to you and press her mouth to yours until you’re stupid enough to let her bed you for the night?
Or should she gather you in her jaws and bite voraciously hard enough that you will turn limp? Spare you from what is her maw? The pit of her want she could condemn you to?
(But hers must be more merciful than the rest’s, surely? Would you prefer it to be her that destroys you?)
She is now convinced, you are the greatest trial of forbearance and endurance Shar has thrown her way.
“Shadowheart?” You murmur worriedly, a few seconds later to her silence, the fire casting a sultry, welcoming flush over you. She watches as you reach a hand up to your own face; undoubtedly thinking, why is she staring at you like you’ve burnt down the entirety of Faerûn? Shadowheart swallows, jittery; she cannot bear to tear herself away from your embrace.
“Why... why have you come here? To me?” It is all she manages to wrench out of her dry throat. Her waist trembles when you wrap an arm around it. She wishes to ask more; what are we? What am i to you? What do you want from me? Why are you doing this to me—?
“You looked lonely, was all.” You yawned, something ladened with slumber. She could not fathom the thought that this, whatever you were doing, could be casual to you. Was it an everyday occurence for you to ensconcing with whoever you deemed warm enough? “You could do with some company.”
Company? Does she deserve it? You could be with Karlach or Halsin, right now. Their arms were built to sweep you right off your feet. Or Astarion, surely? Was her company so special to you, you had refused your nightly tryst with him?
No, the rational part of her hisses. You’re thinking too highly of yourself; and what it says is true. She’s nothing more than some elf, one who cannot even string herself together.
It’s an uncomfortable silence – though it seems onesided, with how you flutter and cosy up to her despite how stiff she is. Somewhere in between, she feels a frown on your face pressed to her shoulder. She swallows, a prayer of repentance and a lash against her back is what she deserves. She’s a fool. There is no other but herself to fault if she was to fail the trial you pose.
“Shadowheart,” you mutter, more fiercely, another question on your mouth. She reveres the image of you, with your brows are wrinkled with worry for her. “Are you okay?”
But if the punishment is inevitable, she might as well just enjoy the buildup, right?
The cleric shakes her head, the witty response she has wilting when the instantaneous tightening of your arms around her fills her with the most innocent surge of need she’s ever felt – and her body wraps its arms around you before her mind has a say on it.
“Y-You torment me, you know?” She says, breathy, unnerved. The way you look at her and search her eyes for anything that could give her away has her breathless, and she can’t quit decide if that’s a good thing. It feels dirty, almost as if you’re looking for sin in her. She has plenty to go around.
“Why?” You ask, pushing on.
“You confuse me.” Shadowheart shakes her head, allowing the warmth of your palm to slide on her face. She graces it with her own. Shar cannot be watching, damn her. “So much.”
She continues, clutching onto your fingers, “I cannot be with you, I cannot – but gods,” she chokes, lips quivering once. “you make it so hard to stay away.”
You flush at it, what she means. Shadowheart follows. She wonders if you can hear it, the thrum of her heart, a testament of her sin, her unforgivable wrongdoings. She wonders if you know she’s starting to look at you as more of a salvation then a trial. You feel like it.
“Where is this coming from?” You ask, so gently, so reassured. You even tuck her hair behind her ears and it makes her flush with delight. “What makes you so sure you cannot be with me, hm?”
“Why me?” It clicks to you why she had asked that earlier. You frown, smoothing your thumb over the apple of her supple cheek. Her voice trembles. “You could have anyone you wanted, you know. Soldiers, or dukes. But you, you act like this towards me; and I’m just me.”
She does not say how afraid she feels that she could taint you with sin.
“And I like you for you.” You interject; and the butterflies in her stomach seem to triple, despite her eyes burning with exhaustion. “You are more than enough for me. You are wonderful to me.”
“You’re fine, we’re fine. I want to be with you.”
(She wonders if you mean for the rest of your life or this night only.)
Your words ring in her mind. She wonders if you want her to the same extent she does with you. But whatever — she’ll deal with it in the morning, the talk, the regret, the prayers, her reward and consequences. For now, she will let you soothe down the mess she’s made of her hair and hold her, entangle yourself to her as if to share warmth in place of the dying fire.
She could be enough for you, she could take care to not damage you with what she is. And she’s sure that she deserves this, snugly rocking in your arms, even for a night or two. And maybe you deserve a pretty flower again.
If she cannot have you, she can at the very least make sure you have her.
#shadowheart x reader#bg3 x reader#not my proudest work#i need to hit a smoke to function sad face emoji sigh#hope this flops amen
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The Farmer’s Fancy
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
Word Count: 478
Summary: Joel finally has his farm...now all he needs is you.
Author’s Note: So I decided to really challenge myself with this one and write something for Lisa’s @cockslutpadalecki 15 sentence challenge and prompt #11 (”you look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat”) and Navy and Roo’s week 3 Slumber Party ‘Something New’ challenge @the-slumberparty I did something soft!dark here which is not something I do much and lightly used (k)idnapping- I’m giving the illusion here and as I continue to experiment I hope to get more into it all! Thank you to my sweet friend Navy💕 @navybrat817 for her extra encouragement and overall awesomeness and support! Love you! HUGS! Thank you so much to Lisa, Navy and Roo💕 for hosting these great writing challenges and celebrations, it’s so great and I really appreciate it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you bunches to lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics for the divider! 🥰
Warnings: binds, some language, (c)hoking, smexyines, soft!dark themes: (k)idnapping hints
GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @salome-c thank you lovely 🥰
Joel Miller Masterlist
You struggle against the binds at your wrists, your curses and cries lost in the vast openness of the farm while you watch him stride over to you, his hands on his hips as his eyes sweep down your body and flash with heat before he murmurs, “I’d untie you if you didn’t try to run every god damn time, think you’re ready to be good for me darlin’?”
You sag against the wooden pole of the small stable and hang your head with a nod, your body deflating even more when he releases you from the binds and you find yourself weak and falling into his arms.
“There now,” he whispers, taking your chin between his fingers and lifting your eyes to his, “I knew you could do it.”
Your menacing glare is met with a smirk as he backs you toward the wall, hay catching in your shoes and the smell of horse surrounding you, your body hitting the wood before he crowds you against it, the hardness between his legs pressing into your stomach.
With a gasp of his name you grab his broad shoulders, unable to hide the way your body succumbs to the simple fact that he’s touching you, and you swallow hard, licking your lips.
“Promise me, darlin’,” he drawls, “promise me you’ll do as I say and you won’t try and run anymore, you know I’ll keep you safe.”
His lips skim the shell of your ear, more of a whispered warning than anything else, and you cling to him, your breathing heavy as he places a kiss just underneath your ear before his mouth trails softly down the column of your neck.
“Lemme hear you say it,” he growls as his large and calloused fingers trace your collarbone, sliding higher until they close around the base of your throat and he pulls back to look into your eyes.
“I promise,” you choke out, your nails digging into his back.
“Repeat it,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers putting more pressure on your neck.
“I promise,” you say again, whimpering when he shoves one thick thigh between your legs and his fingers squeeze even harder, “I won’t run and I’ll do as you say.”
“There’s a good girl,” he croons then abruptly removes his thigh and replaces it with his free hand, making you clench around nothingness.
His fingers tease along the edge of your pants, his motions unhurried when he slides them lower and purrs, “you look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”
“Joel,” you find yourself pleading when his fingers brush over your panties, the material soaked and stuck to your skin.
He hums appreciatively, his words warm against your lips and his tone smug when he whispers, “fuck’ darlin,’ I knew you’d be easy to break but this is too good to be true.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fic#pedro pascal#joel miller x female reader#soft!dark joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller the last of us#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#look ma i did it - fifteen sentences#navy and roo's sleepover
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Hey honey! I'm loving your bingo challenge<3
So I want to send in a request for Steve Rogers for the prompt 'ugly duckling'
So basically Steve meeting readers family and friends, and the running joke is how reader bagged an Greek god looking man like him despite being not so pretty. He soon understands why reader was first hesitant and a bit surprised when he asked them out. But Steve takes a stand for them in front of everyone and call them out on their behaviour and all the fluff! Please feel free to change anything you like or ignore the request if it's not worth it! Thank you so much! I love your fics💙
Hi hon <3
I feel so much about the "ugly duckling" so I added a little bit of "horrible family actions" that I've seen. I hope you'll enjoy this!
Make an Impression
Steve Rogers x You
Warning: Ugly Duckling, shaming from all aspects, bad language word(?)
Summary: Steve was nervous about meeting your family - your larger family, that is.
A/N: My eighth entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.
"What if they don't like me?" Steve whispered in horror as he looked at himself in the mirror.
"They will love you." You stood on the tip of your toes and kissed his cheek, "Seriously, my mom thought I'd be single for life. So she is already way beyond happy that I'd be taking someone home for this traditional festival."
Steve mumbled a "yeah", before turning to you, "I really want to make a good impression." He almost knotted his brows into a bun, "Any tips on how to be the best boyfriend?"
"You are the best boyfriend there is." You help flipping his collar in place. He was so nervous about meeting your family that he tried on five different ties for over a dozen times, leaving his collar a mess, "You'd be helping out... I think. And you definitely do not need a tie to suffocate yourself when you're helping out. They will love you." You emphasized the idea that your family would welcome him one more time, shrugging, "Just try not to answer any questions when my aunties and my grandma ask you about 'when are we having kids'."
"Kids?" Unfiltered panic filled his eyes.
"Um-hmm." You fiddled with the hem of his shirt, tucking it in place, "I know, we aren't even planning anything yet. Still, they love to do that. They'd be scheming when we're having our fifth kid with or without our help."
Steve swears he is sweating like a fountain.
"Smile. Tell them we're enjoying our solidarity. And you will be fine." You threw him a sympathetic look, "Tell them about your military stories. That would distract them enough."
You hoped your boyfriend would survive under your ruthless (or so you believe) aunties.
"C'mon. Mom said we should be there by 11 to help her cook lunch." You kissed his cheek again, "You'll do fine."
"Not quite sure about that." Steve muttered. If confidence could be measured from 1 to 10, he'd be negative a hundred by now.
You thought your aunties - your father's sisters - would be hogging Steve until he was going to have a panic attack, asking about your relationship or about his family three generations ago. But within an hour, you heard that he was able to make all of your aunties laugh with joy by telling some interesting stories in the barracks, while your mother kept you in the kitchen to help her around.
Help with cleaning. Not cooking.
After an hour and a half, your grandmother pulled an ancient photo book out of nowhere and started to show him your baby photos.
With pots of traditional dishes simmering over the stove, you were finally able to get a break from your mother's accusations of "not practicing homemaking" and escape to your boyfriend.
At which point, the photo album was only about one-quarter through, and your aunties had just started the chapter where you were 4 or 5.
"...now this." Your grandma chuckled and shook her head, "This was precious. She has always been the not-so-good-looking one among my grandkids. Hasn't changed about that. See her skin? And the hair? Her cousins tried almost everything to help her look better."
Yes. By "help" she meant that your cousins, who were not that older than you, shoved you around like a doll, pinning all their least-favorite hair bands and hair pins onto your head, and giving you ridiculous "make-overs".
The kind of "make-over" some 6-year-olds could achieve.
While your male cousins ignored you.
Some of them still did.
You didn't mind.
Your family isn't exactly the tightest bun in the world. You tried avoiding them until important family-gathering activities such as this one. Because they would criticize everything from your clothing to your work. And probably also tell your boyfriend that you are not that good.
"And what are you wearing?" One of your aunties eyed you disapprovingly, gasping as if she had just seen you. Even though you have been helping cleaning and cooking for at least sixty minutes, "Sweetie, your ass is going to rip your jeans. Why not sportspants? They are definitely more comfy. Could help cover your thick thighs too. Honestly, how you are able to date... him-" She gestured at Steve, "is baffling."
"That hair..." Another auntie tutted as loud as she could, "So messy, my dear. Have you tried conditioner? My boy brought back a bottle of L'OREAL conditioner from Paris and it has been working wonders. "
Third auntie chirped up helpfully, "Must have been that awful job, cutie pie. I told you that you should be working closer to home, not driving three hours to see your family. That incompetent husband of mine recently opened up a factory and we'd be happy to arrange a desk job for you. Smaller pay, but closer to home. What could a ton of money do anyway if you can't see your family every week-"
That's enough bullshit for you for a day. You'd rather drown yourself with mud than listen to them criticize from head to toe.
"I think that's my phone." You forced a smile, getting up as fast as you could, "I'm gonna go check."
"See, I told you a busy job can do you no good..." One of your aunties yelled behind your back, before gossiping in a low voice with others.
What you didn't see (or hear, for that matter) is that Steve apologized swiftly, leaving the couch and following you.
Eight months ago
Steve accompanied Bucky to his graduation ceremony that day. Being around the same age, they chose a path in the military at the start, though Bucky had a severe injury to his left arm and had to leave the sergeant program after only a few months. After some rehabilitation and trying a handful of jobs, Bucky decided to head back to university and study criminal law in order to become a police officer, or a district attorney if he's not fit for police work anymore.
Steve, on the other hand, was luckier. He stayed in the sergeant program and got assigned to the States right before Bucky's graduation. After three tours and a surgery to collect bomb shells from his leg, the Army decided he could be a drill sergeant on the New Jersey Base, responsible for training new recruits before shipping them overseas.
Anyhow, Steve pulled Bucky into a big hug when the ceremony was over. He whistled and nearly clapped his hand numb as Bucky beamed at him in a black graduate gown.
"I guess I'm the smarter one of us now." Bucky smiled coyly, punching Steve in the chest, "And the luckier one too." As he fished a cute girl in gown by her wrist and introduced her, "This is my girlfriend Wendy. Wendy Stone. Wendy, Steve."
She reached out shyly to shake his hand, "Hi Steve. I've heard a lot about you."
And as if Bucky was the magnet, attaching people like coins in a line, you slipped through the crowd patting Wendy on her shoulder, "Your phone. You almost forgot - Hi Bucky, I'll be out of your hair in a minute."
Bucky's palm flew to his forehead, gasping out in shock, "Damn. I haven't introduced you two yet. Steve, this is Y/N, Wendy's cousin. Y/N, this is my best pal Steve."
Five months ago
You had hung out with Steve a couple of times, but only in the presence of Bucky and Wendy. Wendy and you shared the same apartment, so it was nearly inevitable for Steve to bump into you when looking for Bucky, or Bucky asking both of you to join Game Night for you four to know each other well.
Steve grew fonder of you, nonetheless. He loves the laughter whenever you hear a silly joke; he loves the way you make a face to him whenever Bucky and Wendy getting all gooey and clingy, making both of you feel like the third and fourth wheel; he loves your optimistic and can-do attitude, whether it was Wendy having a bad day at work, or when the pipe burst in your apartment.
Before he opened his mouth that day, sharing a pot of coffee with Bucky during the quiet morning of a Sunday. Bucky cut him off, saying Steve's line, "You should ask her out."
"You think I should?" He gulped nervously, counting the larger bubbles on his coffee.
"Dude, why do you think I've asked you on these game nights stuff?" Bucky snorted into his mug, "You practically glued your eyes to her the day you met. It's hard not to notice."
"Thanks...?"
"Don't thank me yet, punk. I've asked Wendy about her. She's one tough-" Bucky paused before continuing, mulling over the semantics, "Is it degrading to say son-of-a-bitch? Because Wendy said the exact same words. Anyway, according to Wendy, she doesn't really date a lot. And her work is crazy as hell. Plus, they came from the same family, cousins from their mother's side. They are a hard-to-please bunch of people, and Wendy heard that her father's side was even worse."
Steve didn't really take the last line into consideration back then. Still, asking you out was one hell of a mission, worse than the tour he had in the middle of some desert. It took some persuasion and some more coaxing ("good-measured coaxing", Bucky insisted) to get you on the first three dates. But from that point forth, everything has run smoothly, until now.
"You alright?" Steve closed the door behind him. Your tiny room seems smaller with his broad shoulders larger than the door frame.
"Yeah." That's a lie. "Another few hours and we'll be left alone." You swept away the invisible dust on your jeans, murmuring.
That's why you don't like your relatives. The smell of grease and tobacco rose from the backyard where the men were drinking and smoking, more revolting than the way you remembered.
Steve pursed his lips tightly into a line, "Are they always like this?"
You huffed out an unamused laugh, "At least we were related. You should have seen how they treated my mom."
"That's why she's in the kitchen?"
An unimpressed glare threw in his direction, "She enjoyed that, believe it or not. Cooking and cleaning and homemaking." Raising your chin towards the kitchen, "Blamed me about 'not doing my part' just now."
"Why don't you-"
"Stand up against them?" You knew what he meant. You did. You tried. But they would always accuse your mother of not "teaching you properly".
"They are bullies, Steve." You shrugged, pretending that it didn't bother you at all, "They'd do anything to make sure we get all those nasty comments. And the moment any one of us stand up against them, they'd ask my parents to force me to apologize."
Steve crossed his arms, furrowing his brows again.
"Look, my mom is ... old-school. So are all of them. She nags a lot but she'd be sad if I'm not here to support her during this family reunion. But reunion means all of them, so..." You held his wrist, resting your head on his shoulder, "family comes first."
He took you into his arms, landing a kiss on your forehead.
You craned your neck to smile sweetly at him, as if nothing had happened, "Let's get back to the living room before they mock me for being a baby about it."
Surprisingly, for one full hour, they weren't able to make a comment about you - plenty of comments about Steve since your three cousins had arrived. More comments about your cousins. Gossips about their neighbors. Judgements thrown around on their men and your mother's cooking.
"... your daughter better have clarity on herself." Your grandmother pointed at your mother, drunk on her third cup of wine, her words slurring, "Steven....s Steve, here, is way out of her league. And she needs to maaaarry him before some s... ska... skank butts in."
Your mother eyed you, mouthing silently, asking you to eat rather than reply, before coming up with a polite smile, "Of course. But young people have their own opinions on marriage, and I suppose it's only fair that they figure it out themselves."
One of your aunts waved her fork too hard, sending a piece of chicken into the air, "Oops. Ma's right. And you need to have a kid soon, sweetie. Marry him, and have a kid. Your body is a ticking clock. Don't turn deaf towards it."
"I'm surprised you were able to get a boyfriend, let alone... this." Another aunt gestured at Steve, "You've never been the pretty one, cutie pie, and you sure ain't now."
You put your hand on Steve's thigh to calm him. You could feel his muscles tensing and his jaw clenching, not so subtly. You shook your head lightly.
Don't give them what they want. You hoped you were able to convey the message.
"Oh my oh my," the last aunt chuckled, "we are not going to witness some cheesy scheme of renting a boyfriend here, are we? I heard from my daughter Jean that it's quite popular these days. You know, it's not that embarrassing not to have a boyfriend, I mean, we all thought that way-"
Jean, being one of your cousins sitting by the table, chose to munch her food in silence rather than responding to your aunt.
"That's enough." Steve placed his napkin on the table, folded it back into a triangle before he spoke, "All of you." His rigid tone from the military days seeped into his voice, having the conversations on the table stop for the moment. Taking your hand beneath the table, he watched every person on the table with a serious expression, "Our relationship is none of your business, and so is her appearance. I see a beautiful, strong, independent woman, and I pity you for none of you were able to see her the way I do. Because you were so focused on yourselves, comparing everything about you to make you feel less pathetic. "
A brief pause.
"You didn't say anything about your daughter owning a clothing store, inherited from you, that barely gets by." He looked at the aunt who called you "fat".
"No one said anything about your son stuffing potato chips in his mouth and being unemployed, still taking expensive trips with your pension, because he's the son in the family." He points at the aunt who called you "cheap".
"And finally, you know damn well that husband of yours is having his third secretary-mistress. Since that's all the rest of you could hint about this afternoon." He directed at the aunt who thought you weren't "homemaker" enough.
"I hope you'll have the day you deserve." He spat out, standing from the table, asking for your hand.
For the first time today, your eyes sparkled with light. Gladly taking his hand, your rose from the table. Not minding if you have shoved your chair backwards too hard or the sudden movement is not "lady" enough.
"Mom, I'll come visit next week. Promise." A big smile raised the corner of your lips, waving your mother goodbye while the rest of the table watched in silence.
You still had trouble believing this when you got in your car. Steve immediately pulled you into a hug, nudging your neck with his cheek.
"Not so scared about 'impressing' my family now, huh?" You joked, tugging the end of his blonde hair lightly.
"They're going to hate me and you after I dumped every scandal on them." He mumbled apologetically, "Sorry, I hate bullies."
"No." You signed, "I should've be braver and just ... cut them off."
"You did the best you could." He kissed your shoulder gently, looking into your eyes, "You are everything I've dreamed of, and I meant everything I said at the dining table. You are incredible."
"Hold your proposal, Rogers." You teased him, seeing his ears turn into beet-red as you mentioned "proposal", poking his chest with your index finger, "You aren't on your knees yet and I'm not having five babies without five carats."
Steve's face flushed with a shade of pink, looking like a total turnip if it wasn't for his blonde hair. "Five babies???" He gulped, and then, "Does that mean we're having ten babies if I buy a ten-carat now?"
It was your turn to be stunned speechless. Only when he was grinning madly did you realize he was messing with you too. Laughing with tears, you fell into his embrace, "Steven Grant Rogers, you are a horrible person."
A few laughs bubbled from his chest as you leaned back in your seat and buckled your seat belt, "You'll get used to it." He started the engine and changed the subject, "I didn't have much food in your house. Mind if we stop by at the new Burger joint and order something?"
"I almost forgot how awful my mom's cooking is." You set your phone on navigation mode and put it on Bluetooth speaker, chuckling, "I'm starving. Let's go."
Find my The Slumber Party Present Bingo Challenge here 👈
Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fluff#jnmanswers#inbox <3#writing challenge#the slumber party writing challenge
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Pulling triple duty with this one.
Written for @steddiemas Day 29: Holiday Parties and @thefreakandthehair Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge. It's also a holiday sequel to my big bang fic Signed, Sealed Delivered, I'm Yours
My prompt for the Winter Fanworks Challenge was: “If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me."
Tags: Established relationships, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Mailman Steve, Platonic Soulmate Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Slice of Life
wc: 4003 | Rating: T
Read on ao3 | ao3 collection
The Brookbridge Post Office holiday party is a tradition that dates back long before Steve joined the ranks. Every year Warren splurges on renting out a private room at a restaurant or banquet hall before passing all the planning off to his assistant of the month. The only rule, as far as Steve’s aware, is that it has to be tied to some charity organization so that he can write the whole thing off later.
This year is no different as the invitation he finds shoved into his work locker has the Toys for Tots logo front and center. What is different is the attire section that requests all guests break out their best holiday sweaters for the occasion.
Steve’s not sure what constitutes a holiday sweater, but he has a closet full of knit red and green ones that’ll surely work. No sweat off his back. Especially since he’s also done with the toy shopping.
The holiday party isn’t Steve’s favorite way to spend a random Saturday in December, but he always sucks it up and goes. Usually drags Robin along with him so they can stand in the corner getting drunk off free drinks while making fun of Tommy and his gang of mini-me’s as they try to hit on everyone’s plus ones.
It’s not the highlight of their holiday season by any means, but it's a tradition they’ve had going for years now. One he’s not sure he wants to break this year even though he could take Eddie as his romantic plus one. Which is exactly what he tells Robin during their Saturday movie marathon.
They’re sprawled out on the couch, Dumpster between them, with Christmas Vacation playing in the background. They’ve seen it enough times to quote the entire thing from memory so neither minds the interruption. It’s not like they ever actually watch movies on their Saturday movie afternoons anyway.
“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Robin snorts, lobbing a pillow at his head. “Of course, you’re taking Eddie!”
“But we always go together.”
“Only because you never have a date!”
“So, what? You’ve been going all these years as my pity plus one?” Steve asks, nudging her with his knee.
“I’m sorry, did you think I liked hanging out in some stuffy banquet hall listening to Hagan and his little groupies try to hit on me?”
“Don’t forget the year Warren hit on you.”
Robin retches, startling Dumpster from her slumber. The cat yawns before slowly climbing off the couch and down the hallway in search of somewhere quieter to sleep.
“Take Eddie. It’ll be fun!”
“Don’t you think two months of dating is too soon to be taking him to work events?”
This time it’s Robin’s bony knee that jabs into the meaty flesh of his thigh.“Jesus, Robs,” he hisses, pulling the hem of his shorts up to check for instant bruising.
“You’re dumber than I thought if you really think you and Eddie have only been dating for two months. What about all those months before, huh?” Steve doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes in silent protest. She’s not wrong, but she’s not right either. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t already met some of the people from work when he goes to the post office.”
“I mean, yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve sighs. Still, there’s something lingering in the pit of his stomach. A gnawing, unpleasant weight that he can’t shake. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Tommy’s going to be there, though.”
The same Tommy who has been a Grade-A douchebag since getting removed from Steve’s route and put back on sorter/greeter duty. Steve’s not sure why he doesn’t just quit if he’s so miserable but every day he finds himself on the receiving end of a lackluster death glare.
Also, the same Tommy who gave Eddie the nickname “Mr. Dreamy.” The same Tommy who relentlessly hit on Eddie until he finally got thrown out of his house once and for all.
The same Tommy who has no idea that the guy Steve is seeing, because yes, Tommy knows Steve is seeing someone and teases him about it daily, is said, Mr. Dreamy.
Bringing Eddie into that is a recipe for disaster. One Steve’s not sure he even wants to subject himself to, let alone Eddie.
“On second thought,” Robin says, scrambling to sit up. “Can you take two guests? I will suffer the gross gazes and bad pick-up lines of your male coworkers just so I can see Hagan’s face fall when he realizes you’re dating the guy he was after.”
Steve laughs despite himself, shaking his head. If there’s one thing Robin loves, it’s being a fly on the wall for some good, old-fashioned drama.
📬 🎄 📬
With Robin officially denying his plus-one invitation, Steve sets out to ask Eddie.
It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, he knows this, but something about it also feels like a Big Deal — with a capital B and D. Sure, they’ve branched out from their routine lunch dates — they have a standing Sunday brunch double date with the girls and make a point to go out at least once during the week, plus Steve regularly stops by the shop now, but it's different inviting Eddie to go to a work event with him.
It’s another step in their relationship.
One toward a more permanent future and Steve doesn’t want to fuck it up by scaring Eddie away.
So he spends a week testing the waters. Asks Eddie about his holiday plans over Toasty Treats’ legendary holiday turkey sandwich on Tuesday. Brings up Tommy’s latest fuck up over chili leftovers on Thursday to gage Eddie’s feelings about him (“Jesus H. Christ he really is an idiot,” he laughs, clearly poking fun, but not in the teasing way he does with Steve that always makes his cheeks heat up). During brunch on Sunday, he goads Robin into sharing a fun anecdote from last year's party where one too many cocktails had her and Steve taking over the karaoke machine serenading guests all night with off-key renditions of Christmas carols.
When Steve steals a glance at Eddie he finds him smiling and laughing along with the story.
And just like that the seed is planted.
Steve finally gets the courage to ask the question he’s been dancing around for a week on Tuesday over leftover Chinese takeout.
“Course I’ll be your plus-one, Stevie,” Eddie answers mouthful of Chow-Mien. “I’ll be your plus-one anytime, anywhere, any—”
“Alright, you sap,” Steve laughs, leaning over the table to steal a kiss.
“Does this mean I’m finally going to see the back room where the mail sorter fairies work?”
“Unfortunately not. The party’s at the banquet hall in town.”
“Dammit,” Eddie sighs.
“Oh, and you have to wear a Christmas sweater.”
“Love me a good theme!”
📬 🎄 📬
Turns out, what Steve considers a Christmas sweater is very different from what Eddie considers a Christmas sweater. A fact he’s currently in the midst of learning as he glances around Eddie’s bedroom.
“Stevie, sweetheart, love of my life,” Eddie says, clasping his hands in front of him as he rocks on the balls of his feet. “That is not a Christmas sweater.”
Steve glances down at the knit sweater he’s wearing before fisting the hem and pulling it away from his chest to get a better look. He’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. It’s totally a Christmas sweater!
“Yeah it is, Eds,” he defends. “It has a reindeer and a tree on it. That’s pretty Christmas.”
Eddie gawks for a moment before scrubbing a hand down his face. Steve knows he only does that when he’s frustrated so he braces for whatever he’s going to say.
“Objectively speaking, yes, it is a Christmas sweater. But it’s also not a Christmas sweater.”
This time it’s Steve who gawks at Eddie. He’s used to Eddie getting worked up over random things, but this is a new one. “Okay Christmas Sweater expert, what is an appropriate Christmas sweater then.”
“I’m glad you asked,” Eddie grins before stalking over to the pile of clothes on his bed. He shuffles through the clothes for a moment, tossing a few shirts to the wayside before he shouts victoriously and turns around clutching a red sweater in his hands. “Now this is a Christmas sweater.”
Steve can’t help the cackle that escapes him the minute his eyes land on the sweater. It’s a red monstrosity with an upside-down snowman sprawled out over the entire thing. A plastic carrot of some sort protrudes off and hanhs low, blending with the tinsel on the hat and two blue ornament balls that also dangle low
“If I wear that sweater to work, my boss will kill me,” Steve says through laughter.
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!”
“Eddie!” Steve squawks, brows knitted together. “It’s literally a dick and balls!”
“Warren is a buzz kill,” Eddie sighs, tossing the sweater aside. Without another word, he reaches for another sweater from the mess on his bed and turns around. “What about this one?”
This one is green with a gingerbread man smiling in the middle. It looks innocent enough except for the fact that the gingerbread has bloodshot eyes and the words “let’s get baked” are stitched in big white letters followed by a marijuana leaf.
“Are you trying to get me fired? Again!”
“Hey,” Eddie scolds playfully. “I didn’t get you fired, I got you demoted. And we agreed it was both our fault. Don’t be putting the blame on me! Besides I’m just sticking with the theme.”
“Baby, the theme is Christmas sweaters not whatever this is,” Steve says waving his hands in the air.
“These are Christmas sweaters.”
“I mean, yeah, they’re technically Christmas sweaters but they’re not appropriate!” Steve laughs. “Where did you even find them?”
“Are you forgetting I work with artists all day? Me and the guys make them.”
“You made these?” Steve asks, snatching the sweater from his hands to get a better look.
Up close it's easier to tell that they’re homemade. The stitches are slightly askew, a missing thread or two here and there. Overall though they’re store-like quality. He didn’t even know Eddie could sew let alone sew an entire inappropriate Christmas sweater. If the tattooing thing doesn’t work out, maybe he and the Hellfire guys should start a clothing line.
“That’s pretty impressive actually.”
“So, does that mean you’ll wear one?”
“To my work party? Absolutely not,” Steve laughs.
“Come on,” Eddie whines. “Nowhere on that invite does it say it has to be appropriate!”
“I’m pretty sure it’s implied! Maybe you can get away with that at the shop's holiday parties, but Brookbridge is full of stuck-up employees. Warren might be sleeping with his assistant but I don’t think he’ll appreciate this,” Steve says, lifting the gingerbread sweater.
“I guess that means I should change then.”
“Wait, you’re wearing one of these right now?” Eddie nods, coaxing another chuckle from Steve. “What does yours look like?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
With eyes shining with mirth and that crooked smile, Steve loves so much, Eddie slowly peels off his leather jacket revealing the Christmas sweater he’s been wearing. It’s hunter-green and looks incredibly soft to the touch. Unfortunately, the words “Well Hung” are stitched in a bright green across the chest. Four baubles are stitched on underneath in various sizes trying their best to make the phrase Christmas-appropriate instead of the innuendo it is.
“Oh my god,” Steve wheezes, doubling over in laughter. It takes him a minute to compose himself and when he does Eddie is standing there beaming with pride. “S’clever and definitely true.” Eddie’s smile grows even wider at that. “But yeah, I think you should change, baby.”
“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Eddie groans.
“Hey, I’m plenty fun,” he says, quickly closing the distance between them. Steve gets his hands on Eddie, wrapping them around his middle and pulling him flush with his chest before searing a kiss to his lips. “But I don’t want to give Tommy any ideas. Don’t think he’d back off if he saw you advertising yourself like this.”
Eddie hums in consideration before reluctantly agreeing. Wiggling out of Steve’s grasp, he yanks the sweater off and tosses it onto the bed with the other rejected sweaters. Then, he sulks over to his closet to search for another sweater. A few minutes pass, nothing but the sounds of plastic hangers clanging against the metal rod filling the room before Eddie turns around with a huff.
“So, turns out I don’t have any appropriate Christmas sweaters.”
Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I have a spare lying around. We’ll just stop by my place before heading over.”
📬 🎄 📬
They get intercepted by Debbie as they’re trying to leave, costing them an extra ten minutes they don’t have to spare. That added with the detour to Steve’s place and the inevitable quickie that follows when they realize Robin isn’t home makes them an hour late to the party.
But it’s not a big deal. Hardly anyone but Betty even realizes they’re late. And the only reason she notices is because she’s smoking outside the door when they get there.
“You clean up nice,” she says like she does every holiday party. Tossing the cigarette to the floor, she snubs it out with the toe of her boots before slowly dragging her eyes up Eddie. “You do too, Eddie, right?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m Eddie. And thank you, ma’am.”
Betty tsks, waving her hand in the air. “None of this ma’am crap. Just Betty is fine. Steve’s told me lots about you. Have you made a decision on that P.O. Box yet?”
Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snorting. That day doesn’t leave the best taste in his mouth considering how it ended, but it did start out with a lot of promise.
“Oh, uh, I don’t think it’s for me. S’much easier to have my mail delivered to me. Especially when he’s doing it.”
Betty glances at Steve and gives him another slow once over before winking at the both of them. “M’sure it is,” she laughs. “You boys better get in there. Don’t want to miss the fun.”
📬 🎄 📬
The banquet hall is decorated just as it always is. A giant Christmas tree sits in the middle. A handful of tables surround a small dance floor. There’s a buffet of food on one end, the donation table on the other. A small band is set up on stage, serenading the crowd with a mix of Top 40s and holiday hits. No karaoke machine this year much to Eddie’s chagrin.
After a round of drinks, Steve gets to mingling, introducing Eddie to the handful of coworkers he actually likes. The introductions are brief and his co-workers are quick to share embarrassing stories about Steve’s early days on the job with Eddie who listens and laughs along.
Eventually, Warren finds them, his wife draped lovingly on his arm while his assistant throws daggers his way from the bar. Steve puts on his best smile and expertly navigates the small talk, making a point to compliment Warren’s wife and joke about her being out of his league. Warren’s quick to excuse the both of them after that.
“He gives me the creeps,” Eddie shivers, watching as he guides his wife through the sea of people with a hand on the small of her back all the while making eyes with his assistant across the room.
“He’s definitely a douchebag,” Steve agrees.
He takes a sip of his drink as he scans the room. They’ve been here for almost two hours now and he hasn’t spotted Tommy once. Usually, he’s the center of attention at these things. Dancing up a storm and making it a point to flirt with everyone’s plus ones. Maybe he’s already staked his claim on someone and is getting lucky in the bathroom, Steve thinks before shaking the thought from his head. Who is he kidding, Tommy doesn’t have that kind of luck.
If he’s honest with himself, he’s sort of bummed that Tommy hasn’t made his presence known to him yet. Not because he wants to see him, he’d be happy going the rest of his life without having to share the same room with the guy, but because he wants to show Eddie off. And, okay, maybe he also wants to see Tommy’s face fall like Robin wanted to.
📬 🎄 📬
Steve is swaying with Eddie on the dance floor when the devil that is Tommy shithead Hagan finally materializes. He’s beyond tipsy, uneven on his feet, and freckled face flushed redder than Steve’s ever seen it. His eyes are glossy and his lips are curled in a way that sends alarm bells blaring in Steve’s head.
Trouble is afoot.
Afoot? Christ he’s spending too much time with Eddie.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Harrington.” He practically spits before whipping his head to stare at Eddie. “And oh, look what the postman dragged in. Yesterday’s mail!”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, taking a step toward Tommy. He gives Steve a mischievous look before cocking his head to the side as he gives Tommy his full attention. “Do I know you?”
“Oh don’t play coy in front of your little boy toy, darling,” Tommy slurs, reaching out to rest a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
It takes all the strength in Steve’s body not to reach out and yank his arm away. Thankfully, Eddie does it for him, shrugging the offending hand off with more force than necessary.
“Oh come on,” Tommy scoffs, more of a whine than anything else. “Don’t pretend like we didn’t have the best times when Harrington got himself demoted. What’s it like getting my sloppy seconds, Harrington?”
“Watch it, Tommy,” Steve scolds, taking a step closer to Hagan. He’s not going to make a scene, he’s not. But he’s also not going to stand here and let him talk about Eddie like that.
Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “If I’m anyone’s sloppy seconds I’m Steve’s. And they are very sloppy if you catch my drift.”
Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He knows he shouldn’t encourage this, but it's hard to be the bigger person when Tommy is standing right there purposely antagonizing him for his own gain. Sue him for wanting to play the game just a little.
“Sorry, Tommy, but Eds here is right,” Steve says, placing a delicate hand on Eddie’s shoulder before squeezing it. “Don’t you remember, I got demoted for hooking up with a “bombshell” in the van? Well, guess what, you’re looking at him.”
“That— that’s not what happened,” Tommy says, directing his words at Steve, not Eddie. “You weren’t with him! Aaron said you were with…”
Steve watches the metaphorical gears turning in Tommy’s head as he trails off. Can tell the moment things start clicking. He really had no clue that the guy Steve had been seeing was Eddie. Steve watches the stunned look spread across his face the same way it spread across his all those months ago when he caught Tommy leaving Eddie’s place. The gross realization that they actually do have the same type after all.
“Why don’t you keep moving Hagan,” Steve says, nodding his head in the opposite direction.
“Nah, I think I’m good right here, actually,” he says, confidence returning.
This guy just doesn’t know when to quit.
“Tommy seriously,” Steve tries again. “Go bother someone else. We’re not interested.”
“Oh, so you’re speaking for him now too?”
“Please,” Eddie scoffs. “You know I’m not interested in you. Never have been and never will be.”
That does it.
Steve sees the moment Tommy’s confident facade breaks. The rosiness of his cheeks grows into an angry red, flooding his body. His eyes, once glossy, are now laser-sharp and squinted. His fingers curl into fists at his side as he readies himself.
Steve’s faster though, stepping in front of Eddie at the same moment Tommy lunges. It would be easy to put an end to this once and for all. Give Tommy the gift of a black eye or bruised rib with one skilled punch that Steve would love to throw. But Tommy shithead Hagan isn’t worth losing his job for, so he reigns in his own anger and instead gets his palms on Tommy’s chest to hold him back.
“Don’t be stupid, Hagan,” Steve says. “Warren’s watching. Do you really want to lose your job for good this time?”
The words are supposed to knock some sense into the guy, calm him down. But it does the opposite, riling him up even more until Steve can practically feel his skin vibrating under his hands. Thankfully, Aaron and the rest of his minions are there in an instant, pulling him away and holding him back.
They try their best to calm him down but Steve can see Tommy’s anger growing by the second. He’s only seen him this angry once before — two months ago when Warren removed him from the route. He doesn’t need to see an encore performance so instead he reaches for Eddie’s hand and drags them away from the impending doom.
📬 🎄 📬
“Part of me still thinks you should have let him have it,” Eddie laughs, shoveling a mouthful of chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth.
“Tommy’s not worth it.”
“I would have been so pissed if I missed you deck him,” Robin says, working her way through her own mountain of pancakes.
“That’s the real reason you didn’t punch him, isn’t it?” Eddie teases.
“Oh yeah,” Steve deadpans, rolling his eyes. “Promised Robin I wouldn’t punch anyone unless she was there to witness it.”
“Does she also have to refrain from punching people,” Chrissy asks.
Robin shakes her head. “Why? Is there someone I need to punch in your honor?”
“Not yet,” Chrissy says, nuzzling into her side. “But if Eddie makes us go to the Birchwood Holiday party in these tonight, you might need to. Debbie’s nephew is in town and he keeps staring at me from the window.”
“Again with the sweaters,” Eddie huffs, letting his fork clatter to the table. “They’re cozy and hilarious. You guys are just boring! Besides, people are going to love my sweater. You’ll see. They’re going to be all the rage one day.”
“Debbie already thinks they are,” Chrissy giggles. “I saw her wearing the one that says “I’m So Good Santa Came Twice” the other day while she was taking out the trash.”
“You gave Debbie one?” Steve shouts, nearly spitting out his orange juice in the process. Robin does spit out her drink, through her nose as usual as she chokes on her own laughter.
“She cornered me and I panicked! I didn’t think she’d wear it!”
“Look on the bright side, Eddie,” Robin says between shrieks of laughter. “With Debbie’s help, every suburban mom in Brookbridge will be walking around in one by next Christmas.”
“It’s a good thing you know a great delivery man,” Steve teases. “Because they’re going to be flying off the shelves.”
“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he groans.
As the table erupts into another fit of laughter, Steve can’t help but tug Eddie towards him before giving him a soft, syrup-infused kiss. And if he whispers something about feeling inspired by the inappropriate sweater Eddie’s picked out for him to wear later, well, that’s between him and Eddie and whoever’s bedroom they end up in when they leave Murray’s.
Besides, he still owes him for not punching Tommy himself at that holiday party.
And Steve always delivers.
#steddiemas#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#SpicySixWinterFanworksChallenge#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington ficlet#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson ficlet#eddie munson fan fic#eddie fic#steve fic#stranger things#stranger things fic#dani writes
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Pretty Little Wife
Dark!James ‘Buchanan’ Barnes x dark!reader
Summary: You're not the only one who likes to play games. Mafia!au
@the-slumberparty
Week two slumber party game:
- write a drabble/one shot as a continuation to one of your previous works
Or
- Write a part of a fic as a sort of one off/what if scenario
I decided to continue my work from the previous week's challenge with a part two to: Vengeance is Ugly
Warnings: mafia, arranged marriage, cheating, poisoning, dark!bucky, dark!reader, murder, beheading, kidnapping, guns, shooting, perfectly good carpeting getting ruined, perfectly good lasagna ruined.
It didn’t shock you when you woke up the next morning to find your date’s head in a box outside your bedroom door. You had heard your husband had a flair for the dramatics, you wished it hadn’t stained the carpet though. You didn’t particularly enjoy your date but you find it amusing the lengths your new husband will go to get even.
You went downstairs and looked around for one of your husband’s men, it didn’t matter which, you just didn’t want to deal with the head in the hallway and get blood all over you. Disgusting.
“Umm excuse me, Peter was it?” You asked the first man you came upon, who had been leaning against the island in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in front of him. You vaguely remember being introduced to two Peters among the slew of people you were introduced to when you moved in.
“Steve, actually,” the man said barely glancing away from the phone in his hand.
“Well, there were two Peter’s so I kinda had a shot in the dark,” you said with a soft laugh. “Anyways, Steve, would you be a dear and remove the box outside my bedroom? It’s staining the carpet.”
He grunted a response and headed towards the stairs, hopefully to do what you asked.
“Did you like your present, darling?” A deep voice asked from behind you.
You jumped, “Jesus Christ! James! You scared me.”
“Did you forget that I live here too?” He asked as he walked to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“I try to,” you said crossing your arms over your chest.
He rolled his eyes, “I’m sure you do.”
“So, we’re talking to one another, now? You ignored me the past few weeks and now you want to talk?” You asked as you watched him head over to the fridge and take out a carton of coffee creamer and pour some in his mug.
“Well, you killed someone, I killed someone, so I figured maybe if we communicated maybe people would stop dying,” he said with a shrug and leaned against the kitchen counter holding his mug.
You shrugged back, “I did end up killing Dot? Unfortunate for you. So sorry for your loss. Also, with your line of work? Unlikely that people are going to stop dying because of us but that’s neither here nor there I guess.”
You notice him grit his teeth when you mention Dot. He must have had real feelings for her. Should have listened.
“Whatever little game you’re playing at needs to end now. People are already talking about our marriage, and I can’t have that,” James said before taking a sip of his coffee.
You gasp dramatically, “What game I’M playing? I thought it was a two-player game or was there not a head outside my door this morning? I’m pretty sure there was. I sent Steve to go handle it.”
James rolled his eyes, “Do not send my men to do meaningless little tasks for you. You aren’t in charge here.”
“Would you have rather I dealt with it? Because if I deal with it I’ll go ahead and take it down to the police station for them to dispose of,” you said with a pop of your shoulder.
“And tell them what? That your husband killed someone? I have them in my back pocket. They. ain’t. gonna. do. shit,” James says emphasizing every word of the last sentence. The dramatics. Annoying.
You decided to ignore that, “So, how exactly do you want to communicate so people stop talking about our marriage? But while we’re on the topic: what were they talking about? Was it the infidelity? Because you started that I only went on one date.”
James sighed, “The infidelity and something happening to Dot. Assumptions of me not being able to handle my pretty little wife at home.”
You laugh, “Because you can’t. Clearly.”
James glared at you, “We cannot have this. We must be a united front. I cannot be the head of the family with a wife who does whatever she pleases.”
You raised an eyebrow, “You don’t have a wife. You have a roommate with a marriage certificate.”
“Fine. You want a real marriage? Will the homicidal tendencies cease?” James asked while he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
You thought for a moment. Did you want a marriage with him? Not particularly but what choice do you have? You can’t get divorced. The only way out of this is through death and if you even tried to kill James you’d be dead in an instant. Might as well give it a go.
“Yes. I want a real marriage. No more homicidal tendencies,” you promised. “As long as you stay faithful.”
James nodded.
And so for the next few months you dated your husband.
He’d taken you out to dinners, lunches, and a few breakfasts too.
He brought you (unpoisoned) flowers and chocolates.
He bought you anything you set your eyes on for longer than five seconds.
It hadn’t taken long for you to fall for him. Where had this man been hiding when you first got married? Would have saved a lot of trouble.
You had recently started to learn how to cook. Though you had a cook who made delicious meals you needed a hobby and cooking seemed as good as anything else.
You’d called James to make sure you knew when he was coming home but he didn’t answer. That wasn’t like him. He always answered when you called. You waited a half an hour and tried again. Still no answer.
You worried your lip and tried to think of what your husband had said he was doing today. Nothing you can think of would have been out of the ordinary.
Maybe he dropped his phone? Or maybe he left it in the car?….. or maybe he’s dead in a ditch? Or or shot through the head?
You needed answers or you were just going to make yourself upset.
Being James’s right hand man you’ve had Steve’s number for a while. You’ve never used it. Never had a reason to. Until now.
It was answered after two rings. Some shouting could be heard in the background.
“Hello?”
“STEVE?! Oh thank goodness! Do you know where James is? He isn’t picking up his phone and I need to know when to have dinner ready.”
There was a long pause. Long pauses are never good.
“I’m not sure what to tell you, Mrs. Barnes. I’m very sorry.”
“You can tell me exactly what you’re sorry for, Steven Grant! Now tell me what’s going on!”
You could hear an audible gulp even with some light chaos in the background. You’re glad to know you hadn’t lost your touch and could still frighten someone.
“James has been kidnapped. We know where he is but we’re still working on a plan.”
Oh.
Oh no.
This won’t do.
“Text me your location. I will be there as soon as possible.”
“Mrs. Barnes…..”
“See you soon, Steven.”
Steve had kept his word and sent the address as soon as you had hung up, which had you rushing to the door to grab your sneakers from the coat closet.
You yelled through the house for Peter to start the car. Poor Peter Parker. He was going to need to break many, many, many speed limits in the next 15 minutes.
And he did. He was a nervous wreck the entire time but you were proud of him. Not sure if he was nervous because of the speeding or because of the murderous look in your eyes but either way you got there very quickly.
When the car was parked another one of your husband’s men rushed over to open your door and escort you to Steve.
It was weird to see Steve sitting at your husband’s desk but as his second in command it made sense that he was there.
“Bucky’s gonna be pissed when he hears about this,” Steve said as he watched you enter the room.
You shrugged and sat in the chair opposite of Steve, “Well James isn’t here and I’m an adult so there’s not much he can do about it.”
Steve sighed and shook his head then muttered, “No, he’ll just beat my ass later.”
“So, tell me the plan,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. It didn’t matter what Steve wanted. You were helping.
Steve opened a folder and turned it towards you, “These are the blue prints of the building Bucky is in. We have someone scoping out the building now to see how many people are in it. As soon as we can. We’ll storm the building and get Bucky out.”
You nodded, “Okay, let me know when we’re leaving.”
“You’re not coming.”
You raised an eyebrow at Steve, “Sure is cute that you think I’ll listen to you. I barely listen to James and he’s my husband. Want to know the likelihood that I’m going to listen to you?”
“Listen, I don’t have a death wish. I don’t want to take you in there just for Bucky to turn around and shoot me. Do you know how insane you sound?” Steve said exasperatedly.
“I’m going.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Yes. I am.”
“You’re really not.”
A few hours later you listened to Wade carefully as he explained exactly how to use the gun he had handed you.
Steve had told you that if you were going to act crazy then he had to put someone crazier in charge of you. Someone who would do absolutely anything so you didn’t get a scratch on you. Enter Wade Wilson.
You remember your husband had talked about him a couple times. Told you about his affinity for well…. everything.
You didn’t tell Steve nor Wade that you were well aquatinted with firearms, Steve because you’ve found out how much fun it is to fuck with him and Wade because he looked so damn proud of himself to be in charge of keeping you safe and you refused to take that away from him. For now. If Wade wanted to think of you as a damsel in distress then that’d be what you were.
When it was finally go time Wade had kept you at the back no matter how much you fussed. You watched as everyone stormed the building and gun fire went off.
When you got in the building however you convinced Wade to go a different way than everyone else. It hadn’t been hard especially since everywhere you went had been deserted. It seemed like everyone had left their posts when the commotion started.
The first person you had seen with Wade you shot before Wade could even get his gun up and ready. He looked at you wide eyed.
“Lucky shot?” You said with a smile.
Wade grinned, “You holdin’ out on me, princess?”
You nodded, “My dad taught me when I was little. Plus, James has taken me shooting a couple times to make sure my skills are still up to par.”
“Seems to me they’re definitely up to par,” Wade said and started walking again. You followed along as you both kept your guns ready.
As you both came upon a new hallway it wasn’t even four steps in before you heard someone talking.
You both looked at each other and softened your steps to walk towards the voice.
As you got closer you heard, “I should just kill you. I’m not sure you’re worth all the trouble you’ve caused.”
Your eyes widened as you heard your husband respond, “Well, I’m not sure what you expected. You can’t take someone like me and expect there to be no repercussions.”
“I’ll show you repercussions,” you heard the first respond before the sound of a smack and your husband grunt.
You looked toward Wade and he nodded and got into position. In one swift kick, Wade opened the door and you walked right in to see a man standing behind your husband. He quickly raised a hand gun to your husband’s temple. You husbands eyes narrowed as they met yours. Maybe Steve wasn’t the one your husband is going to kill. Maybe it was you.
“Oh look Barnes! They sent some pretty little thing to save you. Couldn’t even spare a man for you,” the man said. “What’re you going to do, sweetheart? Shoot me?”
You rolled your eyes, “Yes.”
You raised your arm quickly and shot him in the head. Men. Always underestimating you.
Your husband huffed, “Darling, I left explicit instructions with Steve not to let you come.”
“Since when do I listen to Steve?” You asked. “Steve’s a chicken. He’s more scared of me than he is of you.”
Wade chuckled as he started to untie your husband’s arms and legs.
“Well, he does have some very good reasons to be scared of you,” James says as he stood up and rubbed at his wrist then opened his arms. It didn’t take you long before you ran right into them and wrapped your own arms around his neck while his pulled you against him.
You felt your husband nuzzle his face into your hair and heard, “Missed you, darling.”
“Missed you too. Don’t let yourself get kidnapped again. That was stupid. Ruined the dinner I had planned,” you said into his chest.
James chuckled, “You’re more upset about the dinner aren’t you?”
“I made lasagna!”
#James Buchanan Barnes x f!reader#Bucky Barnes x female reader#bucky x reader#Navy and Roo's sleepover#mafia!au#Mafia!bucky#dark!bucky x Dark!reader#pretty little wife
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HELLO! I would like to request a full on fluffy modern!Sihtric fic, where he's desperately in love with reader and he takes her on their first date, and does everything he can to impress her 🥰 (I hope you like the idea! just want to give you a feel good fic to write)
Authors note: thank you @sihtricfedaraaahvicius so much for this lovely request! In the beginning I thought it’s going to be a short and sweet drabble, but then I started writing and it just got longer and longer and now the story already has more than 8000 words and I haven’t fully finished yet, so I decided to split it into several parts. Don’t worry - that sweet date will come somewhere towards the end, please, just be patient …
Summary: Sihtric – a talented artist – juggles between his passion for painting and his job as a graphic designer. At the corporate Christmas party, Sihtric's unspoken feelings for his boss are tested when a twist of fate brings them closer than expected.
Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)
Warnings: actually none, fluff, suppressed feelings
Word Count: 3,4 K
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek
If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.
Sihtric's alarm buzzed softly, pulling him out of his slumber with a gentle tune. He'd done it again, painted till the wee hours, lost in his own world. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up.
"Man, today's gonna be a long one," he mumbled, stretching wide enough to feel every vertebra pop.
Hopping out of bed, he wandered to the bathroom. While scrubbing his teeth and waking himself up with a splash of cold water, his mind played out the day's agenda. And looming large on that list was that meeting with you, his boss.
He had joined the advertising firm as a graphic designer just six months back, when it once again had become evident that his unpredictable art sales were simply not enough to cover rent and other bills. And in this short time, he had come to genuinely admire you. It wasn't just because you were the master over his paycheck. No, it was more. You were smart and intelligent, with a discerning eye, having worked with some of the industry's best, always full of energy and bursting with unexpected ideas.
As his coffee brewed, filling the room with a comforting aroma, Sihtric glanced at his workstation. Sketches, notes, and reminders littered the space. He had poured his soul into designs for a crucial client this week.
Sipping his coffee, warmth spreading through his fingers, Sihtric's mind drifted. He thought back to his job interview with you - how awe-struck he had been by your charisma. Every tiny detail from that day was imprinted in his mind: the way your hair framed your face, that crisp white blouse, your piercing gaze, and the assertive yet gentle tone of your voice. It felt like a dream, one where he forgot the reason he was even in that room to begin with.
You looked down at his portfolio and then back up at him, your gaze unyielding.
"Sihtric, I see you've worked with a few ad agencies before. Can you tell me about a particularly challenging project you've undertaken and how you tackled it?"
Those eyes of yours, he got trapped in them like a butterfly in a giant coweb, the question almost going unnoticed. "Oh, um, yeah," he started, voice wavering a touch, "So, there was this campaign... for a... thing, and I did, well, design stuff?"
Your eyebrow raised in a playful challenge, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, "Design stuff? Could you elaborate, please?"
Embarrassed, he tried to muster a clearer answer. "Right, what I meant was I led the visual side of this big campaign. We had... differing views in the team. But, I managed to sort it out, and... made some designs?" He was mentally slapping himself on the face for his incoherence, but there was nothing he could do about it. His mind was racing. He couldn't help but notice the little details – the glint of your necklace, the soft curve of your lips. Vivid images of your fingers brushing against his skin or tangling in his hair made him sweat and he could swear his heart had jumped to his throat.
You leaned forward, placing his portfolio on the desk. "Sihtric, take a deep breath. I'm interested in your work and your experience. Let's try that again. Take your time."
He nodded, grateful for the second chance. Drawing a long breath, he tried to push aside his nervous admiration for you to give a more composed answer. The whole meeting remained a hazy whirlwind for him. Exiting your office, he felt like he'd just finished a marathon, convinced he’d made a fool of himself and butchered his chances. The real shocker came the next day when your secretary called to tell him he'd landed the job.
Sometimes he pondered if he should've declined. He never foresaw the toll it'd take on his heart. Sure, you were drop-dead gorgeous, but it wasn't just that. It was the air around you, the way you carried yourself, the balance between assertiveness and genuine warmth.
And therein lay the rub. Each interaction, from official meetings to casual chat near the coffee machine, even the fleeting moments your fingers grazed while sharing documents, tested Sihtric’s composure. He'd often find himself lingering on your laugh a second too long or jumping at chances to help you out, constantly trying to dial back before raising suspicion.
He had a love-hate relationship with big projects, especially the one he was working on now. The upside was of course spending more time with you – those endless late brainstorming evenings, project discussions gulping down morning coffees, or those afternoon progress check-ins. And then there were of course those quick breaks with some casual chats about movies or music. He lived for these moments, yet they twisted his gut, making the 'keep it professional' attitude so much harder.
Man, when you'd burst into laughter over some silly office joke or shared tidbits from your weekend, it was like a sneak peek into the real you, the person behind the boss. And, boy, did it send him spiralling.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions. The giddy highs from just being close to you followed by sinking lows, realising his feelings might always remain a secret. Sihtric took a deep breath, setting down his drained coffee cup. Another day, another challenge to keep that secret under wraps.
And let's be real. The odds were stacked against him. On one end, there was him – an artist, struggling for recognition and forced to juggle between his passion and job in order to be able to pay his bills. On the other, there was you – successful and recognised art director of one of the city's top ad agencies, mastering work challenges with a mix of grit and grace. The idea that you might ever look his way seemed... well, ludicrous and the fact that he was your direct subordinate only emphasised how absolutely fantasy like this notion was.
—----------------------------------------------------
The company's annual Christmas party was always a big deal — a bright spot in the midst of deadlines and stress. The office would light up, literally, with twinkling lights and festive baubles, and for a night, it'd transform into a party wonderland. The aroma of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts wafted through the air as soft carols played in the background making everybody feel warm and fuzzy.
Sihtric was in his element, chatting away with buddies about holiday escapades and the usual office gossip. The night was looking good, he was happy and truly enjoying himself, especially because he'd been recently introduced to this big-shot art lover, who seemed genuinely interested in his unique art style. And thanks to this unexpected acquaintance an exhibition was already in preparation – a dream Sihtric had cherished for years was coming true. Late nights, brushes, paints, and the chaos of bringing art to life now dominated his hours and he revelled in that even if some darker rings around his eyes testified to the lack of proper sleep.
Amid this whirlwind of preparation, another thought continually hovered at the edge of Sihtric's mind — inviting you to his exhibition. He wanted you to see beyond the office guy, to the artist, the dreamer. What better time than a Christmas party? Every time he played the scene in his mind, it would end differently. Sometimes he'd imagine you looking thrilled and promising to attend. Other times, he'd envision a polite but distant decline.
And so he was anticipating your arrival, feverishly brainstorming about the perfect moment for his invitation, as the door swung open, revealing you, looking radiant in a black dress that accentuated every line of your body, leaving Sihtric momentarily speechless and stumbling over his words. He almost choked on his drink, his gaze glued to you, following every so gracious move, his jaw slowly dropping and eyes filling with an expression of deep frustration.
You were laughing, your eyes gleaming with joy as they met those of the tall, dashing man beside you. His arm was draped casually around your waist, a possessive yet tender gesture that made Sihtric's heart sink.
Every laugh you shared, each subtle touch, and those warm exchanges of glances between you and the guy – it all was like a dagger to Sihtric's heart. A cocktail of jealousy and a pinch of sadness brewed within him, although he kept reminding himself he had no claim over you. He had never voiced his feelings, nor had he let himself believe that someone as radiant and accomplished as you could ever see past his name tag. "Get a grip, Sihtric. She's out of your league, and you had always known that," he told himself.
But still there had always been that small, naive part of him that harboured hope, whispering tales of “what ifs”. What if one day everything would change and he would muster the courage to share his feelings? But tonight, that hope was crushed under the weight of reality.
Pulling together every remaining bit of his self-control, Sihtric pivoted back to the conversation at hand, all the while battling the urge to keep peeking over at you. But from the corner of his eye, he still saw you both — so wrapped up in each other, dancing to your own rhythm.
As the night rolled on, he kinda lost track of you two. A part of him scolded himself for even daydreaming. Of course, someone as magnetic as you couldn't be single. But, man, it didn’t dull the sting.
Feeling the need to step away for a moment and escape the party's cheerful cacophony, Sihtric made his way to the big, spacious balcony. He hoped the chilly night air might help clear his head from the whirlwind inside. The evening had started so full of hope and anticipation and now was completely ruined for him. Sihtric lit his cigarette, as he suddenly caught a murmured conversation approaching. Hoping for some privacy, he ducked behind a column, trying to blend into the shadows.
He heard at least two people stepping out on the balcony, and suddenly, it was your unmistakable voice that reached him, filled with pain and frustration. "Why her, of all people? My own secretary!" you exclaimed.
"It just... happened," the defensive reply came, which he recognized as your boyfriend's voice.
You shot back, "And you thought hiding it was the answer? I had to find out at our office Christmas party?"
The man mumbled something incomprehensible in response.
"We're done. Just go. I need to be alone right now," Sihtric heard your voice, quivering with a mix of anger and hurt.
Caught off guard, Sihtric felt awkward overhearing such a raw, personal exchange. He contemplated stepping out and admitting he was there, but before he could, he heard your boyfriend's quick exit and the sharp sound of the balcony door closing.
He briefly considered staying hidden and letting the moment pass, but seeing the unmistakable pain in your stance, he instantly ditched the idea. Taking a breath, he gave a gentle cough to signal his presence and slowly stepped forward, finding you looking distraught, the twinkling lights from inside casting a glow that made your tear-streaked face glisten. It stung seeing you like this, especially when it felt like he was trespassing on such a personal moment.
Embarrassment and shock pulsed through you with every beat of your heart. Of everyone to witness this breakdown, it just had to be Sihtric - not some fleeting acquaintance, but someone you saw and interacted with every day, someone who knew you and respected you. At least until now.
A wave of panic washed over you. Would he think differently of you now? Your carefully curated image of always being composed was now in pieces. The barriers you'd built so diligently over time – gone in a heartbeat.
“Of all the moments...” you whispered.
Sihtric, sensing your turmoil and looking for a distraction handed you a tissue. The balcony was wrapped in a heavy silence until you mustered, "I'm sorry. You didn’t need to be a part of that."
"I didn’t mean to intrude," he responded, "It just happened so fast."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "This isn’t how I imagined tonight would go."
"We've all been there," he said gently, trying to lighten the mood.
Choking back a laugh, you replied, "Yeah, but usually not with an audience."
He grinned, trying to keep things casual. "Think of me as a very interested passerby."
Seeing your surprise, he quipped, "Your ex might think he's a shooting star, but to me, he seemed more like a sparkler that fizzled out. And for the record – he's an idiot."
A small laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head. "Nice try. But thank you. Really."
Sihtric gave a playful shrug. "I’m just being real. But hey, are you okay?"
You paused, your voice softer, "Been better. Thanks for lightening the mood, though."
He took a breath, "Look, I don't want to intrude any more than I have, but you seem like you could use company right now. Can I do something for you? Can I get you a drink perhaps?"
You mulled it over briefly, then nodded, "Alright. As if things could get any worse."
With a comforting smile, Sihtric said, "I’ll be right back."
—-----------------------------------------
The party's noise faded to a dull murmur as you both got lost in the chat.
Sihtric felt a mix of things. It pained him to see you upset, but man, he couldn't deny the thrill of getting this unplanned time with you. He kept sneaking looks, thinking how your smile looked even cooler up close.
A strand of your hair playfully draped across your face, and he had to resist the urge to gently push it back. And with the soft background music, an invitation to dance nearly escaped his lips. But he held back, sensing it might be a step too far.
His art exhibition was on his mind too. He wanted to share it, just needed to slide it into the conversation smoothly.
"You know," he started, swirling the last sip of his drink thoughtfully. "Besides the whole graphic designer stuff, I paint. There's something magic about splashing colours on a canvas."
You looked intrigued. "Is that so? I always thought your designs had an extra touch of soul. Like there's a story hidden in every piece."
Sihtric chuckled, his eyes brightening, clearly stoked by your comment. The two of you continued to chat, the conversation flowing effortlessly. Emboldened by the ambiance and perhaps that second cocktail, Sihtric leaned in a bit, "You know, I actually have an exhibition coming up soon. It's a collection of my recent works. I... I’d really love it if you could come. I think you might appreciate the stories behind the paintings."
You blinked, processing this. You knew Sihtric was talented, but an entire exhibition? "I'm in," you smiled. "Always had a soft spot for art, especially when it's by someone I know."
His eyes brightened noticeably, and he fought to keep his composure, a warmth spreading across his cheeks.
As the evening wore on, the earlier events combined with the cocktails left you in a heady state. Your laughter became louder, and your steps weren't as sure. Noticing your state and the watchful eyes around, Sihtric decided to step in. This was not the right place to put your vulnerability on display with all the employees and bosses of the company gathered in one place.
Fetching your coat, he gently wrapped it around you, subtly guiding you towards the exit.
“Okay, boss, looks like it’s home time,” Sihtric said, his tone light, attempting to infuse some humour into the situation.
You chuckled, a sound that was melodious yet laced with the unmistakable touch of too many cocktails. “I’m not ready for the night to end,” you protested mildly, though made no effort to resist as Sihtric waved down a taxi.
When the car pulled up, Sihtric had a moment of awkward realisation - he had no clue where you lived. That was a detail that, somehow, had never come up in all your office interactions.
“So, uh, where to?” he ventured, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
You rattled off an address, the words a bit slurred but intelligible. When he recognized it as one of the city’s posh neighbourhoods, Sihtric's eyebrows rose a notch.
The gentle hum of the car's engine provided a steady backdrop to your sporadic, light-hearted giggles. Every so often, Sihtric would sneak a peek at you. Tonight had been a whirlwind, and he was spinning from the rapid shifts in emotion. One moment he felt he'd lost any chance with you, the next, he learned you were single again. And amidst it all, he had managed to extend an invite to his exhibition. But as he looked at your tipsy, carefree state, he silently hoped you'd remember their conversation come morning.
Upon arrival at your grand apartment complex, you leaned into him, the evening's indulgences making your steps falter. As you fumbled around in your pockets for keys that were conspicuously absent, the reality of the situation began to set in.
"Oh no," you murmured, panic lining your voice, "I think I left my handbag at the party."
Sihtric's eyes widened as he processed your words. "Are you sure? Think. Where did you last see it?"
You tried to recall, but the fog of alcohol muddled your memories. "I...I don’t know. I think I left it on the bar counter when I went to get a drink."
Sihtric sighed, taking a moment to think. Feeling your weight lean into him as you struggled to maintain your balance, he instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist to stabilise you.
"Okay, let's think this through," Sihtric began, his voice calm and measured, "Going back to the party venue at this hour might not be the best idea. They're likely cleaning up or closing already. Tomorrow first thing, we can check for your handbag. For tonight, do you have any friends or family nearby?"
Your head shake was slow and a bit exaggerated. "They're miles away."
“Any chance there’s a spare key somewhere? Maybe a friendly neighbour?" he asked.
You hesitated, "I... I've kept to myself mostly."
In the quiet night, the predicament seemed to amplify. Here he was, in the dead of night, with his drunken boss outside her apartment, both locked out. He could never have imagined a scenario like this.
After a deep breath, he said, "Alright, look, I have a couch at my place. It's not much, but it's comfortable. You can crash there for the night, and we’ll sort everything out in the morning."
You blinked, a bit caught off guard by the unexpected offer. On any normal day, you would've politely declined. But right now, with your thoughts swimming in a cocktail haze, you giggled and responded, "Really? Are you sure?"
Sihtric smiled, "It's not a problem. It's late, you need a place, and I can't, in good conscience, leave you out here."
The car ride to Sihtric's place was a tranquil one. You leaned into the window's cool embrace, fighting off sleep, while Sihtric's mind raced, piecing together the night's unexpected twists.
The dim lighting of the apartment complex hallway cast elongated shadows as Sihtric tried to guide you up the stairs. But with every step, it became more apparent that the task was not going to be easy. Your laughter, interspersed with hiccups and mumbled comments about your ex-boyfriend, echoed in the quiet corridor. And then, without warning, your laughter turned into soft sobs.
Sihtric, concerned, looked down to find tears streaming down your face. "Hey, hey," he tried to console, "Husch, it's okay."
"I just can't believe he... he..." you hiccupped, struggling to find words, the hurt evident in your eyes.
Seeing you in this state and realising that climbing the stairs in your condition would be an ordeal, Sihtric made a quick decision. Gently, he swept you up in his arms. It wasn't about your weight but more the electric jolt from the closeness, that sudden rush of intimacy that had his heart doing flips in his chest. Instead of pushing him away, you snuggled deeper into his embrace, your head finding its natural resting place on his shoulder.
Feeling your soft breaths against his neck and the gentle grip of your fingers, he had to fight to keep his balance. The ticklish sensation of your hair brushing against his cheek, your soothing breathing rhythm, and the lingering scent of your perfume all combined to form a heady mix that sent his head spinning. Every part of him was hyper-aware of you, so close and real, making everything else fade into the background.
Managing to unlock his apartment door, he stepped inside and gently placed you on his bed. "Just... just stay here for a second," he whispered, moving quickly to rummage through his closet for spare sheets and blankets for the couch.
But when he turned back, the gentle sounds of your breathing told him you'd already drifted off to sleep. For a moment Sihtric stood frozen, absorbing the sight before him - the serene rise and fall of your breath, the way the dim light from the street painted your face in soft shades. It was a moment of quiet beauty. Your hair splayed out, lips slightly parted, lashes casting shadows—everything about you in this moment felt so intimate, personal. It was a sight he'd never imagined he'd witness.
Despite the unexpected turn the evening had taken, a warm feeling settled in his chest. He carefully removed your shoes and tucked you in, making sure you were comfortable. And this time he gave in to his urge to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment, silently wishing he could be the rock you leaned on, the one to chase away any sadness. In his heart, he knew he'd move mountains just to keep you from any pain. You deserved nothing but happiness, and the thought of someone causing you heartache infuriated him.
With you sleeping soundly, he settled on the couch, wrapping himself in the cosiness of blankets. As sleep claimed him, a dreamy smile played on his lips—a dream where he was your hero.
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Welcome to the Slumber Party
Who are we?
Allow us to introduce ourselves; @navybrat817 (Navy) and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (Roo). We are writers across fandoms.
Navy writes a range from fluff to dark fics. Her main fandoms are MCU, Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans characters, but has also written for DC.
Roo writes dark fics. Her main fandom is the MCU, however she has also written for DC, GoT, and Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters outside of Marvel.
Why are we doing this?
We all want Tumblr to be the community we used to know as writers. We want to feel safe to share and to interact with each other. So, we have come up with a month-long sleepover to bring together the writer community!
What is the sleepover?
The sleepover will be a series of weekly activities aimed towards writers with the goal of sharing and interacting with each other. This will include prompts for writing, challenges to share other writer's works, and leaving meaningful feedback for each other.
We encourage positive feedback, comments, reblogging, and even asks to your fellow writers. Don’t be afraid to branch out beyond your usual circle. We will be providing a list of participating writers at the end of the sign-up period for this purpose.
At the same time, we will be offering tools for inspiration that we recommend you bookmark for future use as well. We will add a resources page shortly once this sleepover is active.
For those who want to get involved on a more communal level, we have a discord! Message either of us for a link to this server. We kindly ask you do not share this link with anyone else as our goal is to make sure that we all feel safe and trust each other.
How do you join the sleepover?
To sign up for this sleepover, you may use this form.
By filling this out, you consent to your tumblr/ao3 username being included on this blog as we will be providing a list of participants to encourage interaction and sharing.
The Slumber Party will begin February 5, we ask that you sign up before February 3 and contact us regarding any interest in late sign ups.
Who can sign up?
We're all about trying new things and meeting new people. We encourage a multifandom experience. While sign up is generally open, please keep in mind that this event is dark!fic friendly and will include writers of all genres.
For readers, we still encourage you to get in on the fun. Each week will include a little bonus reblog challenge for both writers and readers. Keep an eye out and feel free to use the provided prompts to leave comments on your most loved works. You are also encouraged to have a look at all those works created throughout this event and do the same.
What to expect?
After you've signed up, you can hit follow! so that you don't miss any of our sleepover posts. We will be posting the weekly activity at the beginning of each week and sharing resources and other things throughout the week.
For those who get in on the action, please make sure to include proper tagging and warning for all works written for this event or submitted as reading recs for others. We prioritise the safety of all writers and readers.
For any works created for this event, we ask that you post these on your own blog and submit the link here/through an ask. You may also tag with roo and navy sleepover to get our attention.
Also feel free to send an ask our way!
#sleepover#the slumber party#navy and roo sleepover#writing event#writer event#community#multifandom
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Deception | Josh Kiszka X Reader | Part 3
Warnings: Mature Content (18+ recommended). Betrayal, lying, stalking, miscommunication, breakup, crying, josh crying (ouch).
Word Count: 4.7K
A/N: I know it's taken a while, but part 3 is here! I hope you guys enjoy! More is on the way.
Summary: You'd been warned that the stalker would ruin your life, little did you know they'd intervene in a way that would tear Josh apart, too.
Sunshine streamed through the fluttering curtains, welcoming a new day. Your head pounded as you opened your eyes for the first time. You groaned and flipped, turning away from the window. You opened your eyes again and were pleased to see Josh still slumbering, his lips moving and his body adjusting in his sleep to offset your movement. You laid there for a long time, memorizing his relaxed features, admiring the way his lips curved at the softest angle, paired with the sharp angles of his jawline. His brow was relaxed, and really, he looked like an angel. You wanted to touch him, to let your fingertips wander along the curves of his body and the features that you had come to know so intimately. His shoulders and chest were left half-exposed from the drape of the comforter.
“You’re staring at me,” Josh said softly, catching you by surprise.
“No I’m not,” You answered defensively, though it was most definitely a lie. You felt an embarrassed smirk curve at the edges of your lips.
“Y/n, if you stared any harder, my skin would burn off.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your heart thumping in your chest when he finally opened his eyes. The sunlight streamed across his irises, igniting them in the warmest amber hue. His eyes in this light reminded you of tiger eye gemstones and you knew you could stare at him all day if he’d let you.
“Happy Birthday…party day? I guess?” You said with a quirky grin, trying your best to decide what to call the day.
“You’re so cute,” He purred, reaching for your nose, squeezing it slightly as you scrunched it, your eyes squinting. “Come here.” He pulled you in against him and kissed your lips. “Thank you, baby.” You laid with him like this for quite a while longer, eventually hearing him fall back asleep. You relished in the feeling of his body against yours, his protective warmth enveloping you completely. You let your thoughts wander as you lay in his arms. After months together, it had become so apparent that the Josh that you had imagined in your parasocial daydreams was, for the most part, actually comparable to who he really was in real life. In truth, he was incredibly easy to love–just as simple as that. He had natural charisma that seemed to flow almost infectiously into any room that he was in. His cleverness and creativity nurtured this wild spirit that was never quite bridled, which left every new day an exciting adventure. He was also notoriously spontaneous, and in the months that you had known each other, he had challenged you to try so many new things- many of which you had never dared to try before.
It took you a while to decide exactly what to say, but you finally sat down to write:
Josh,
My sunshine. The sparkle in my eyes. What could I possibly write that could ever truly describe the way that I love you? I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for a love as selfless as yours. Over the last six months, I’ve found it, and never once have I ever had to question your love for me. You are so nurturing, and so unbelievably patient. I’ve never had a love like yours, and (with whatever power lies beyond the earth) I hopefully won’t have to.
I love you. I adore you. Thank you for being you–the light of my life.
The happiest of birthdays to you, my love.
Y/n.
You placed the card in your purse to give to him later, and returned to bed where Josh still laid sleeping. Life with Josh was thrilling. You both clicked instantly when you first met, (besides the run-in on the Kroger pasta aisle). You never expected to see him again, chalking it up to a one-time encounter, until it happened again weeks later at a downtown bar. You had kept the meeting to yourself online for fear of creating a gossip storm.
“Pasta Sauce Girl,” he had greeted you, grinning from ear to ear when he spotted you at the bar, waiting to be served. You still remembered the goofy smile you had worn when you looked up at him, and the way your cheeks had ignited from hearing his familiar, flirtatious tone.
You had adjusted coolly against the bartop as you looked at him. He was dressed casually, and you recognized the outfit: Khakis, a white long-sleeved sweatshirt and a long, beaded necklace with a tassel on it. Yep, the ‘Joutfit,’ you had told yourself mentally, taking notes. His hair puffed around his head in a simultaneously cherubic and mischievous manner, and you wondered if his heavenly appearance could be matched with an equally-matched devious side, elsewhere, perhaps outside of this bar, away from the public eye.
“That’s me,” you had said casually, offering him a soft smile. “But my boring name is–”
“Y/n,” He cut you off, but not before–wait–was this man…this man was fucking blushing–at me?! “I remember,” He smiled softly, offering a small chuckle through his perfectly shaped nose. He actually remembered, which surprised you. “And it’s not boring at all. Do you live near here?” He asked, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I–I mean,” He corrected, clearing his throat. “I haven’t really seen you here. It’s one of mine and my brothers’ favorite bars in town.”
His expression was expectant as his eyes roamed your facial features perhaps a bit too obviously. You watched him bite his bottom lip, and you could have done the trust fall exercise right then and there, except it wouldn’t have been an exercise. It would have been you passing out cold into the cement floor. You shrugged. “Friends. They asked me to come out,” you continued, nodding in their direction. “My only option was to say yes after three shitty excuses over the last two weeks.” He grinned softly.
“Well, can I get you a drink? A beer? Or…what’s your favorite?” He asked. “Let’s make this outing a little more bearable.”
“Sure. Vodka soda,” you answered to his delight. You had thought for a moment to request a salty dog, but you didn’t want to send alarm bells, as he had mentioned the drink in an interview years ago. It had quickly become a known favorite of Josh’s. You cleared your throat as if he could hear your thoughts.
“There’s a woman after my heart,” He said, pulling a hand up to his chest. And there it was. The dazzling white smile you had seen in so many pictures. The one with the tiniest gap in between his two front teeth–the diastema that had returned because he most likely hadn’t worn his retainer like his orthodontist had advised.
“Josh,” You said, pretending to remember his name, catching it on a fleeting memory. This specific moment in the memory bit at you now more than ever. You’re heartless, you thought to yourself, but still flitted back to your recollection, swallowing down the guilt momentarily.
“That’s me,” He said, twisting around to grab the drinks as the bartender set them down on the counter top.
Almost an hour and several forgotten friends later, you and Josh had shared stories, preferences, secret talents, vulnerabilities…and just like that, you were miraculously bound to one another, silently begging for the next time to see one another. “There’s absolutely no way that you know that song,” Josh said with a disbelieving expression.
“Woyaya, Osibisa,” You answered, opening your spotify library, turning your phone around to show him the song saved in it.
“Are you sure you’re not in my head or something?” He asked. “How the hell do you know that song? I only know it because Sam–uh, my brother–showed it to me while we were high off of our asses one night.”
“Hey, don’t underestimate my eclecticism,” you teased. “Show me your library and I’ll show you what I know.”
“Don’t dive too deep,” He warned with an amused grin. “There’s some weird shit in here,” He said as he scrolled.
“You don’t scare me in the slightest,” You admitted. “Especially when you haven't seen my playlists.”
***
“Tick tock, Y/n. You don’t seem very motivated, it seems.” You saw the message. A new number every single time. No matter what you did, you’d still get threatening messages from that same person. There was no escaping it–the only choice you had was to ignore it. You’d come clean to Josh on your own terms.
“You don’t scare me.” You responded before throwing your phone on the bed, determined not to dwell over the intruder anymore today.
“You’ll regret saying that to me,” the text read, brightening the phone screen from the mattress.
“That shower burned my ass off,” Josh said with a soft chuckle, padding into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Replacing the water heater worked a bit too well, whew!” You watched as he wiped his forehead of the little drops of water that were beginning to trickle down from his hair and onto his face.
“Oh my God, you’re going to look like a boiled hot dog at your party,” you snickered, sitting down on the bed as you observed his bright red skin. As he stepped closer, you poked at his chest, watching as white marks appeared in place of your touch. “You’re literally cooked.”
He removed the towel from his waist and pulled it up to his head, tousling his wet curls. You let your gaze wander about his naked body as he turned and walked to the closet, grinning as his ass jiggled softly as he moved. “Nice ass.” You watched as he turned over his shoulder to look at you briefly before grinning and turning back around, bending slightly and shaking his hips for emphasis. Reaching beside you, you tossed one of the pillows at him.
“Excited for today?” You asked him, rolling over to lay on your stomach, propping your head up with your elbows.
Pulling on his usual outfit, and zipping it up to the neck, he finally turned back around and placed his foot on the end of the bed to put on socks. “Of course I’m excited,” he said. “I get all of my favorite people in one place-and, well, this will be one of the first parties that is my own, you know? Not that I don’t love Jake, but I like that we did separate celebrations this year.”
“Come here,” you cooed to him. He obliged, putting his foot down and bending over to kiss you softly. You placed your hands on his chest and fiddled with the zipper. “Today is your day, baby. Everyone who loves you will be there. We’ve got lots of good wine, food, games…you name it. Sam, Danny and I made it happen. You’re gonna love it. Now, finish getting ready, and we’ll head over.” He kissed you once again before putting on the other sock, and headed to the bathroom to blow dry his hair. Meanwhile, you paced in the kitchen, deciding for sure that you would tell Josh the truth, but only after his birthday. You wouldn’t steal his happiness now. Not today, at least.
Is everything ready to go? You texted Danny, who practically responded immediately.
Sam’s already started drinking, so yeah–get Josh here ASAP. :) You grinned at the text message and put the phone away, shoving it in your pocket.
“Josh, are you finished primping?” You asked, craning your neck around the corner.
“Hey, this hair doesn’t happen overnight,” He said into the mirror, looking at you through it.
“Come on pretty boy, time’s a wastin’,” you said, snapping your fingers at him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he chirped back, tucking curls into place with far too much hairspray.
You got ready separately from Josh. You wanted to impress him with your outfit, seeing his expression first. You had decided on a sky blue linen dress that was fashioned with delicate eyelets at the hem and on the edge of the sleeves. You put on light, flattering makeup and had left your hair down in soft waves, just like Josh loved. He was a natural lover, and with that came the preference of natural beauty, which to you was a relief.
“Hey Love, have you seen my–” he paused, walking through the threshold of the bedroom into the open planned living room and kitchen where you stood waiting for him. You turned and grinned at him.
“You like it?” You pulled at the fabric of your dress and turned for him to look at the entire outfit.
“Like it?” He repeated your question, stepping forward, pulling you in by your waist. “You are so incredibly beautiful.” His smile was full of warmth, igniting your body with passion and love for him. He began swaying with you softly back and forth, and you let him, pulling your arms around his neck, taking in his familiar scent.
“Are we dancing?” You asked into his skin after a long, quiet moment.
“Maybe,” he answered softly, humming a meandering tune–one that you couldn’t quite identify, but that felt so, so familiar.
“But there’s no music,” you said, the edges of your lips, tickling his skin as you smiled.
“I can fix that,” he said even softer, his head tucking down to kiss the hollow of your neck, and like the breeze through a sail, his song steadied you, made you everything you’d ever wanted to be, and gave you purpose.
“Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
God speed your love to me.”
His voice lilted like cherry blossoms falling from a tree, dappling the earth in gentle hues, and suddenly, you began to feel tears slipping down your cheeks. They were bittersweet ones, summoned from the great, undeniable love that you had for Josh, but sullied from the guilt that still roiled deep within your gut. You stood there, secure in his embrace, knowing that you were loved so deeply and unapologetically. You’d be the one to break his heart in mere days, and still, you were too selfish to have already told him. You sniffled back the wetness in your nose, and felt Josh loosen the embrace, pulling you away from him.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, his face contorted with puzzled concern. You shook your head, shaking off the feeling. You wouldn’t hurt him. Not today.
“I’m fine. I’m better than fine,” You half lied. “I love you so much.”
“You’re everything to me, pretty girl.” He moved a hand to stroke the softness of your cheek with the meat of his thumb.
“Kiss me,” you said softly, selfishly needing him to make it all better. He obliged, kissing you softly, his teeth pressing into your bottom lip as he moved and angled his head. You gave in to the intensity, opening your mouth for him to move further, and he did. His tongue slipped between your lips, searching and discovering more and more of you as he walked you backward to rest against the kitchen island. His soft moans drifted into the kiss, reverberating though your own body with a need that you know couldn’t be quenched between now and the party. His hands moved to the curve of your ass as he moved to plant biting kisses on your neck.
“Don’t–leave–marks,” You warned him, knowing that there’d be no way to cover them at the party.
“Fine,” he said in a huff of preoccupied breath. “But I will be leaving marks that only I get to see later tonight.”
“You’re such a tease,” you chided, smacking his ass softly as he stepped back.
“Maybe,” he agreed. “But I think I’m justified.”
“Let’s go before your birthday cake disappears,” you warned playfully.
“It better not,” Josh said, grabbing his keys from the counter. “Sam would be the one to cut the cake without me, though,” He grinned. “He might find himself without an arm if that’s the case.”
“Calm down. Surely you’re not going to be hacking and slashing on your birthday,” you said, heading out of the front door.
“I don’t know. If Jake brings his sword, I might not be able to resist.”
You snorted through a chuckle. “Get in the car, stupid.”
“Wow, so mean to the birthday boy!” Josh whined, hopping into the driver’s seat as you got in beside him.
“Your birthday isn’t until Friday, stay humble, mister.” He grinned, and reached for your hand as he drove.
“You brought your keys, right? Just in case I need you to drive later?” He asked, looking over at you with a sly grin.
“Aren’t you supposed to taste the wine when you’re at a winery?” You teased him, reaching into your purse. “But yes, I have the keys.”
“I chose a winery for the very purpose of tasting…and tasting more,” He said with a bright grin as he drove down the road.
***
Josh jumped into the gravel driveway and shut the door of the Jeep with a loud thwack. He took in a deep breath, and you could see the happiness pouring from his body in an almost visible aura. The venue had been prepared with two large event tents in the middle of the large field, with floor cushions scattered about inside. Two large banquet tables were placed together lengthwise, one organized with an arrangement of gifts, and another with an endless array of foods.
“Wow,” you blinked, stepping forward. “It’s beautiful!”
Suddenly, you heard the roar of the small crowd gathering around the tent, turning to face you both as you approached. Josh’s grin was too large for his face, and it hurt to see him so incredibly happy when, behind your mask of pretend joy, you were crumbling inside.
“Happy birthday!” The crowd shouted after a messily-organized exclamation. Jake, Sam and Danny stood together at the front of the crowd, while the boys’ parents stood behind them hand and hand. You looked over at him with a gentle, proud smile.
“Happy early birthday, baby,” You told him, gently knocking your shoulder into him as you held his hand. He moved to kiss you on your forehead before releasing his hands from yours, stepping forward to greet his family and friends.
“Hey,” Danny said after speaking with Josh, stepping up to you with a gentle smile. “You look like you’re holding up okay. How are you?” He asked the question with genuine concern, though you didn’t appreciate him bringing up the sick, insidious feelings that slithered throughout your body, mind and soul like a venomous, lethal serpent.
“I’m fine,” you said in a low murmur. “Really, I’m fine. It’s Josh’s day, and I don’t want to ruin that for him.”
“So he doesn’t know yet?” Danny said, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Please don’t judge me, Daniel. You would do the same thing as me,” you defended yourself.
“Hey, I’m not judging,” He said too loudly, looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one had heard him. “I promise. Have they contacted you again?” He asked quietly, stepping aside from the group with you.
“No,” you lied, avoiding eye contact with him.
“What did they say?” Danny continued, seeing straight through your attempt at deception.
“They said I didn’t seem very motivated,” You admitted. “And I told them that I wasn’t scared of them.”
“You said that to them?” He asked incredulously.
“Texted. And yeah, I’m fucking tired of them threatening me.” You shrugged. “They don’t own me. I’ll tell him soon, I will. Just not now. Not when this is his day.”
“Would they pull something? Here?” He asked, looking around.
“How would they know about this?” You asked him.
“Y/n, really? They had pictures of you and I. They knew where we were for dinner. They know where you and Josh live…” His face contorted with concern.
“Let’s just move on,” you told him, throwing your hands up dismissively. You stepped away from Danny without another word and joined the gathering once more.
“Josh, did you ask for anything edible?” Sam asked, downing a white claw. “What the hell is this shit, anyway?”
“Some of my favorite foods from all over the world. Don’t be disrespectful, Samuel.” Josh chewed on a fig as he spoke. “You’re just uncultured.”
“No, I just know what tastes good and what tastes like shit,” He chuckled, downing the rest of his beverage. Sam shook his head and walked away, loading his plate with some of the least offending food.
“Can we start passing out the wine and champagne? It’s the perfect time for a drink,” Josh said to no one in particular, but you heard him. Approaching the tables, a server from the venue helped open several of the bottles and handed you flutes and wine glasses one after the other. The group formed a line and grabbed a beverage of their choice, before stepping back and holding their beverage to prepare for a toast. Of course it had to be Josh to deliver it.
“Thank you everyone for coming, and for making today s0 wonderful. Everyone that is here is someone that I love deeply, so thank you for celebrating my birthday with me. And Jake–” Josh continued, lowering his head to acknowledge his twin. “I know it’s not our birthday quite yet, but happy birthday to you, man. I love you so much. Also remember, it might have been me to be first born, but It’ll also be me to be buried last.” Josh raised his glass.
“And on that note, cheers!” Jake shouted, and the crowd cheered, klinking and downing their glasses with smiles and happiness. You watched Josh with so much love and admiration, but found it very difficult to drink with merriment. Still, you swallowed down the liquid, feeling it warm your throat. You hoped it would calm your nerves and muddle your worries, too.
“Presents!” Jita announced. “Let’s see ‘em!” She clapped her hands with enthusiasm, and everyone began to crow around Josh as he stepped between the tables. You oriented toward the front of the crowd.
“What to open first!” Josh exclaimed, picking up one of the larger boxes and shaking it, hearing the contents rattling.
“Don’t break it!” Karen, Josh’s mother chided.
“Oops,” Josh said, blushing brightly as he began to rip the box open, revealing a crystal fruit bowl, lined in gold leaf filigree. Karen grimaced, her lips thinning out into a line, before relaxing into a smile.
“For you to put on your island,” she said. “I found it–do you remember this one? It’s just like Memaw’s dishes. It took me forever to hunt one down.”
Josh rotated the large bowl in his hands, feeling the texture of the glass upon his fingers. “I love it so much,” he said, obviously enthused about the simple gift. You knew he meant it, too. That gleam in his eye wasn’t something he could fake. “Thank you, Momma. I love it.” He set the bowl down gently and walked over to Karen and kissed her softly on the cheek, hugging her tightly.
“I love you son. Happy birthday, baby.” Karen and Kelly had gifted Josh a few more gifts, which he humbly and excitedly accepted. Danny had gotten Josh a new watch, which included all of the newest capabilities. Jake had purchased Josh a subscription to a variety of liquors around the world, which he attested that Josh had to share. After a long while of opening presents, the table had been cleared by helpful workers–the presents organized in a neat cluster.
“Thank you so much, everyone,” Josh addressed the room. “Thank you for coming.”
“Wait a second,” You said, reaching into your purse for the card you had written for Josh. You pulled it out and handed it to him. “It’s just a little note, that’s all,” you told him with a little shrug. “I saved the present for your actual birthday, don’t hate me,” you grinned.
“You always keep me on my toes, Y/n.” He puckered his lips and kissed the air at you. You watched as he peeled open the envelope, a wide smile growing on both of your faces as he pulled out the contents; except, what he pulled out did not look familiar. There were what looked like pictures, and a piece of paper that wasn’t the blue color of what you put inside.
“Wait,” you said out loud, taking a step forward as he began to read whatever was inside. “That’s not–” you started again, confusion furrowing your brows together. He looked up at you, his smile fading, and his eyes darkening with hurt, confusion, and the one emotion that you’d dreaded since the beginning. Betrayal.
The room was dead quiet, save for the afternoon breeze that wafted through the tent, ruffling grass and the leaves of nearby trees. “Josh, it’s not–that’s not what it–” You tried, your eyes flooding with painful tears. He looked at you–through you. If you could have, you would have disappeared like ash in the wind–but that was a self-indulgent thought. It was true that you had kept something huge from Josh, and now you’d pay for it.
You watched with horror as a single crystalline tear rolled down his cheek, his eyes flooded with emotion. He numbly lifted his gaze to the crowd beyond and shook his head ‘no,’ and placed the card on the table and walked off silently. You didn’t understand the interaction, but decided to run after him.
“Josh, really. It’s not Y/n’s fault. She has a stal–” Danny started, stepping forward in your defense. Josh turned suddenly.
“You fucking knew, too?” He spat. “You know what? Fuck you both. Don’t fucking talk to me, and don’t come find me, either.”
You sniffled harshly in a helpless attempt to pull yourself together in front of so many other partygoers. Looking at his friends and family burned a hole through you so deep and wide, that there wouldn’t be much to save coming out of it. There was nowhere for you to go, and you didn’t have your car, either. You’d kick yourself later for that. So many eyes followed you as you trudged away in whatever direction that would take you far enough away from this awful, awful place. Sam and Jake stood wide-eyed for a long moment before running off after their brother, leaving the rest of the crowd to disperse.
“Y/n,” Danny called from across the field, but you couldn’t hear him–wouldn’t. You turned off every thought and feeling, shutting down as you sauntered through the open field. It was quite beautiful, the scene in front of you; wildflowers swayed in the spring breeze, and flitting hummingbirds hovered upon their delicate petals. It should have been a beautiful day, and now that the sun was beating down on the lush landscape, you hated everything about it. Tears flooded your eyes, and in the moment you could have laughed at the pathetic display.
“Hey!” Danny said finally, having jogged behind you to catch up. Pulling on your elbow, he spun you around to look at you. “Hey. Where are you going?”
“Where does it look like, Danny? I don’t fucking know. I don’t know where to go,” you said, finally letting yourself fall apart, your body wracking with heavy sobs. Despite the terrible circumstance, and the risk that Danny faced with his brother and family, he took the final step forward, letting you dissolve into his embrace, his arms wrapping firmly around you.
“Let me take you home. You can stay with me for a few days,” Danny said, kissing the top of your head. You sniffled and nodded, feeling your muscles aching from the overexertion of emotion. “Come on,” he said, turning you toward the gravel parking lot, his arm supported across your back, holding you close as you both walked away from the destruction that was left in your path.
---
End of Part 3.
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slumber party shenanigans
based on this ask from @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles
word count: 470 (look i did it!!)
a/n: you’re such a little shit (lovingly). i hope you like this and i appreciate the challenge <33
————
🖋️ want another blanket?—i will write you a little ficlet (under 1000 words) for the character of your choice. i would appreciate if you’d specify whether you want comfort/fluff/angst/whatever and i will try and come up with something for you!
The door slams shut and you hear the thud of Eddie’s boots, the jingle of his keys, as you finish washing and putting away the dishes. He didn’t call to say he was coming over, but you know why he’s here.
He walks up behind you. “Why didn’t you come tonight?”
You rinse off a spoon, set it on a towel. “Didn’t realize I was obligated to attend all of your shows.” Your voice is sharp.
“You’re not. You’ve just never missed one without telling me.”
You scrub at a plate, squeeze out your sponge.
“Guess I didn’t want to stay and wait for you to finish making out with what’s-her-fuck backstage, just for you to come out and say ‘Oh, sorry, Jeff needed my help.’ Bullshit,” you mumble the last bit to yourself.
“What are you talking about?” Eddie’s face is burning. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. But if you’re not together, why do you care?
“Stop acting like a dumbass, Munson,” you snap.
Eddie reaches in front of you and shuts the water off. You spin, quickly drying your hands on a towel.
“So what you just showed up here to get in my way and play coy? Or do you have something to say?”
Eddie straightens his back out and crosses his arms. Sometimes you forget that he’s tall.
“Since when do you care who I make out with?”
“I don’t give a shit about what you do, Eddie. But I do care that you’ve been sticking your tongue down the throat of a girl who bullied the shit out of me in middle school.”
You’ve told Eddie about this. He just didn’t know that’s who it was. A shiver runs down his spine.
“Every night that I come see you play, she sits across from me and watches my reactions to you. She follows you backstage and when she’s done, she looks at me and she’s proud that she has you and I don’t.”
Your hands are shaking and you grip the counter behind you to steady yourself.
“You do have me,” Eddie says, voice breaking.
“Not in the way I want.”
What? There’s no way. Eddie’s only been making out with that chick because he’s trying to stop thinking about you in that way. Suddenly he’s very angry.
“Well then maybe you should’ve tried harder to get me.” The words are out before Eddie can stop them.
That hurt you, and Eddie can see it.
“Go.” You’re not looking at him.
Eddie doesn’t move. You pick up his keys and throw them at him. He catches them before they can hit the floor. “Y/N—”
“Get out, Eddie.” He can tell by the tone in your voice that you don’t want to say it again.
Eddie turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him.
#eddie munson#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson x reader#bookshelf-dust’s 500 follower celebration#bookshelf-dust’s slumber party
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Gilded Cage
A drabble for The Slumber Party Writers Warm-Up
I got--
Pairing: Thor x succubus! Reader
Warnings: forced imprisonment, dubcon/subcon elements, restraints, dom/sub dynamics, abduction, explicit smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, hand job, 18+, nsfw.
Summary: Thor goes in search of a creature of legend....
A/n- my contribution to the writing challenge @the-slumberparty. I wasn't sure who else wanted to be tagged lol. Hope you enjoy ❤️
"I know what your probably thinking...oh no Thor's locked in a cage, how did this happen!?" He mocked, sighing as he closed his eyes. "I bet your wondering how I got here." Thor said, laying on the floor of the cage, chains wrapped tight around his chest "sometimes you have to get captured to get answers." He continued, looking around the large cave, reds and blacks melting together as smoke billowed across the ground.
"You see, I've been having these dreams as of late, this beautiful enchantress comes to me, her long flowing hair, her beautiful skin...." he trailed off "I have searched the Nine for such an enchantress, and that path has led me here...to this cage, where I met you." He said, lifting his head up smiling at the skeleton that was sharing the cage with him, it's jaw bone falling off as Thor laughed. "You know what my brother would say?" He laughed looking back to the top of the cage "he would say.." he stopped, feeling the cage jerk and slowly start lowering to the ground.
He tilted his head, seeing a hooded figure sat on a large golden dais as the the cage touched the floor. "Well well, Thor....son of odin." He heard a woman's voice laugh as you stood, slowly walking down the steps "I never imagined I would be graced by the Prince of Asgards presence, well...this one." You said, slowly lowering your hood as you took purposeful strides towards him "you! I've been looking for you!" Thor yelled seeing you smile. "Well, you have found me...what do you intend to do now?" You asked striding along the cage, your fingers running across the bars.
"The dreams....what are they? Why do I see you?" He asked sternly hearing you laugh "oh my dear, dear Prince...so naive." You mocked crossing your arms. "Your brother knows all too well what i am." You winked "I do not wish to discuss my brother's hedonistic ways lady.." he trailed off looking into your eyes "y/n...but I am no lady." You said, your smile widening. "Very well...y/n, why do you haunt my dreams?" He asked firmly. "Since you have traveled so far asgardian, I shall tell you what you wish to know." You purred, leaning down you pressed your arms firmly around your chest pushing your breasts out "I need your life force." You smiled watching him blink repeatedly.
"I am what is known to you as a succubus, a demon if you will" you said straightening up "the dreams you have are of an....erotic nature yes?" You asked watching him swallow hard "y..yes, they are." He stuttered "well you see, I feed off of your desire, your...arousal." you purred sauntering around the cage "usually, I only invade dreams for a short while, long enough to sustain myself before moving on." You continued. Turning to face him you gripped the bars of the cage in your hands "but you...God of fertility...offer much more." You said smiling again. "And what would that be demon?" He snapped, his nostrils flaring.
"Life...my dear Prince." You said letting go of the cage "I must bear a child soon, to continue my line. And when I found you.." you said walking to the door of the cage "I knew it had to be you." You said opening the door. "I will never lay with one such as you." He snarled as you stepped inside "are you sure? I can be quite...convincing." you said kneeling down next to him, running your fingers along the chain. "When I have ensured the succession of my line, you will be free to go...to return to you land never to hear from me again." You said leaning down, your lips grazing his ear "you have never known a woman like me, I can give you pleasure you've only fantasized about in your wildest imagination." You whispered seeing him shiver.
"I have seen your dreams son of odin...i can give you all of that and more." You continued. "A...and you will release me...when it is done?" He asked as you leaned back, looking into his deep blue eyes "yes. You have my word." You smiled. Thor cleared his throat, looking down watching your fingers dance along the chain "very well, do what you must." He said sternly lifting his chin, his jaw clenched as he closed his eyes. You began chanting something he didn't understand as the chains around him dissolved, the hard surface of the cage becoming soft beneath him. He opened his eyes looking around he saw he was in a large bedroom. The walls covered in crimson, paintings hung across the room. Looking up seeing a large canopy spread above him, long red gossamer curtains hanging down skirting along the bed.
"There, now isn't this better then that dirty cage?" He heard, looking over seeing you standing next to the bed, wearing only a smile as his eyes traveled up and down your body, your skin shimmering in the candle light. "Hands up my prince." You purred, pulling a piece of red fabric from a drawer near the bed. Reluctantly he reached above him grabbing the headboard as his eyes focused back up to the canopy, feeling the bed dip slightly as you kneeled on it, reaching over him to tie his wrists your breasts hung at his eye level, your nipples hard and taught making him want to take one into his mouth. "There... let's see how good you can be hmm?" You purred leaning back on your haunches.
"Now, time to open my present." You said smiling looking up and down his long frame, covered in leather and metal making you lick your lips. "Be a good boy and tell me how to take this off or I'll cut it off." You growled pulling a knife from the same drawer as he shifted his hips "the fastenings...they are around the back." He said looking wide eyed at the knife. "Well your no fun...turn over." You huffed, setting the knife down watching him shift to his side. You tugged at the laces, releasing the leather tunic from him as he rolled onto his back "oh no...looks like I'll have to cut it off anyway." You feigned sadness grabbing your knife "no...wait! Unbind me and I'll..." he started when you cut through the leather around his arms, effectively leaving his chest bare.
"I would have just taken it off." He huffed watching you drop the tunic to the floor with a loud thud. "Oops.." you said crawled down to his feet pulling his boots off, tossing them down with the tunic as you reached up unlacing his leather pants eyeing the very prominent bulge "oh my, someone is excited." You winked hooking your fingers into the hem of his pants dragging them down his muscular thighs, your fingers grazing his warm skin as you pulled them from him throwing them in the pile. You sat back looking at him, admiring the raw strength he held. Placing your hands on his thighs you slowly moved up, watching the muscles flex and twitch as you dug your nails into his flesh before reaching your prize.
"My...you really are a God aren't you." You breathed, biting your lip as your eyes met his very large, very hard cock. "I...I have never had a complaint." He said shakely as you wrapped your fingers around him, sucking in a breath seeing your fingers couldn't even wrap around him entirely "I'm sure you haven't thunderer." You smiled as you slowly moved your hand up and down, twisting your wrist as your hand came up. "Do you like that my prince?" You purred hearing him moan "y...yes." he breathed, trying to lift his hips with your hand hearing him whimper when you slapped his thigh "no moving." You said sternly "y...yes ma'am." He stuttered pressing his hips back down. "Good boy, now lay back and let me take what I need." You growled pumping him faster.
You tightened your grip, stroking him firmly eliciting the most delicious sounds from him "as much as I would love to taste you, I need you inside me...now" you growled. Releasing him you heard him whine as you shifted above him, throwing your leg over his torso you straddled his hips, looking into his eyes seeing the deep blue had turned dark with lust "shh...I'll take care of you." You cooed, lifting your hips you reached between you, rubbing his hard length through your folds as you rocked back and forth "mmm gods...you are going to feel amazing inside me." You moaned. You lined him up, looking back into his eyes "are you ready my prince?" You asked seeing his arms flex as he pulled on the restraint "y...yes...please..." he moaned as you slowly began lowering yourself onto him.
A moan passed your lips as you slowly took him in, his cock stretching you like you never have been before when you felt the slightest rise in his hips "what d..did I say!?" You groaned clenching your jaw "you just...ahhh feel s...so good." He moaned shifting again when you stopped moving "if you move again, you will not find release this night. Am I understood?" You asked sternly watching him nod frantically "i..I won't move." He panted "p..please..." he said, his voice strained looking up at you "since you asked so nicely." You smiled, pressing your hips down, you both gasping as your hips met his. "Norns, your...big." you breathed bracing yourself on his chest, feeling his muscles flex under your fingers.
You lifted your hips, raising to his tip sliding back down watching his fists clench, his eyes screwed shut as you circled your hips, quickening your pace bouncing up and down on him. "Y..you may...ahhh gods...move my prince." You moaned, feeling his hips thrust up meeting yours. You clenched around him hearing him moan loudly, his lips parting forming an o as you slammed down hard on him. "A..are you going to....mmm...come my prince?" You gritted feeling him twitch inside you "y...yes...norns yes!" He yelled, arching up into you. "That's it...give it to me....mmm...give me what I desire." You panted, feeling your core tighten as he shifted, hitting that spot inside you "oh gods...thor!" You yelled, throwing your head back you drug your nails down his chest leaving a trail of red in their wake.
"I'm....com...gaahhh..." he tried as he thrust up hard, coating your walls with his seed, electricity pulsing through you pushing you over the edge you came hard yelling his name as you took what you wanted, draining him feeling him go limp under you. You rocked your hips up and down, slowly working you both through your highs looking down seeing his eyes closed, his arms hanging slack "Thor...wake up." You said slapping his cheek you saw his eyes shoot open. "W..what..." he strutted looking up at you through half lidded eyes. "You will need to rest, I've drained a significant amount of your essence." You said slowly lifting off if him hearing him whimper. You walked across the room, grabbing your robe from a chair in the corner you slid it over your shoulders tying it as you turned around "release me demon, I did as you asked." He demanded pulling on his restraint.
"Well, you see...I have to ensure your seed takes, so...I cannot release you." You said smiling "that was not the deal." He said sternly as you walked to the bed, kneeling next to him you brushed his golden hair from his forehead "I have a secret for you....I lied." You whispered seeing his eyes widen. "My dear Prince, no one has satisfied me as you have." You said standing from the bed "your essence can sustain me for centuries with your nature....asgardian." you purred sauntering along the bed "so I see no reason to end our little...arrangement." you purred. "Wha...no! I refuse!" Thor yelled pulling on his bindings. "Oh my dear pet...you think you have a choice?" You laughed crossing your arns. "you came to me remember." You smiled.
Raising your hand you began chanting watching the bindings dissolve, the collar wrapping firmly around his neck a she reached up grabbing it. "Wha..." he trailed off sitting up pulling on the collar "rest...you are mine now." You said sternly striding to the door "and I always take care of whats mine...pet." you said opening the door closing it behind you. Thor shot up, quickly slipping his pants on taking long strides to the door, his fingers grazing the knob when something pulled on the collar, yanking him back into the room.
He quickly looked around the windowless room, seeing no other door or escape. He sighed flopping down on the bed, your words echoing in his mind "centuries..." he sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees he rubbed his forehead. He was going to be here a long...long time....
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