#cevans characters

[krirebr]

random hoeing:

Steve catching you in the rain, his white shirt completely soaked and transparent

Ok, this has to be Neighbor Steve.

Warnings: explicit language, more fluff than I normally do, completely unedited, 18+ - MINORS DNI

After Steve caught you ogling him during the heatwave, the tone of your conversations when you run into him in your building has gotten decidedly flirtier. But for whatever reason, that's where it's stopped. As much as you've tried to send signals that you are very open to more, he's never taken you up on it. Which is fine. It's fine. Totally fine. You are very cool with it. The thought of it definitely doesn't make you shrivel up inside. You are so cool.

All of that is the furthest thing from your mind right now, though, as you and your dog run through the rain. It'd been such a nice day, but as you hit the halfway point of your usual longer route, the sky unexpectedly opened up and you and your poor dog were hit by an absolute downpour. Now, finally home, you're both completely soaked and desperate to get inside and dry.

After some fumbling, you get the door to your building unlocked and opened. Just as you're about to get inside and let the door close behind you, you hear your name ring out. You turn around to see Steve hurrying up the path. "Hold the door!" he yells.

You freeze, doing as he asked. Holy shit. He's just as soaked as you, but while you're sure you look like a drowned rat, he very much does not. He– Well. He– He's wearing that damned white t-shirt again. Except it's not white now, it's translucent. You can see everything – that tattoo you spotted before, and a few more to go with it, an incredible set of abs, nipples. Holy shit.

He quickly ushers you inside, thank god, because you can't move on your own, your eyes still stuck to his chest. "Fuck, that came out of nowhere, huh?" he chuckles.

The moment you're out of the rain, your dog proceeds to do her best to shake herself dry, as if the three of you weren't already dripping all over the entryway. "Oh, shit," you mumble, reaching for her without really knowing what to do.

Steve just laughs. And then does it himself, shaking out his golden locks. Part of his hair flops down over his forehead, and you do your best to hold in your gasp. Really it's just so unfair that he could get caught in a rainstorm and come out looking like that. What the actual fuck? you think to yourself.

Except, judging by the way his head whips around to look at you, maybe you didn't think it. Maybe it was more out loud than you'd meant. Oh god. You immediately start babbling, which is unfortunately just as uncontrollable as the initial slip-up you're trying to make up for. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I just– I mean– Look at you!" You throw a wild gesture at him as he just stares at you with his mouth open, trying to take in your ramble. "It's cats and dogs out there and you look like that?? While I–" another wild gesture, at yourself this time. "I just– How is it fair that you're so beautiful??"

"You think I'm beautiful?" he finally manages to interject.

"Huh?" And that's when your brain finally catches up. Oh dear god. What is wrong with you?? You cautiously glance at him to find him staring at you, not upset, but like he's trying to figure you out. Fuck it, you suddenly think. You've already embarrassed yourself. You have nothing left to lose. "You wanna get dinner with me sometime?"

You swear that the smile that blooms on Steve's face is bright and warm enough to dry you both off. "I was starting to worry I was reading your signals wrong. Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

Your answering smile is strong enough to push all the clouds away.

☔

Thanks for the fun prompt, Eva!

Tag List

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23

[rosedpetal]

A Good Father

Summary: Ransom shows his family he knows how to take care of his own kid.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (as his baby mamma)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

Author's note: this is a repost.

Masterlist

If years ago someone ever told Ransom that he'd get married and have children, he'd laugh in their faces. Whenever anyone in his family brought the topic of him settling down, he would leave the table and curse at them.

Until you came in the picture.

He was having the worst day ever, and he desperately needed a cookie. So, he went to the grocery store and was about to pick the last package left of his favorite cookies on the aisle, when you swayed your damned hips and got the package first.

Ransom was livid. He threw the most embarrassing tantrum ever, threatening to call security on you and ruin your life, but you just laughed at his face and asked if he wanted to share. Share! How dared you?

So, you bought the cookies and gave him half. After the first bite, his mood improved and he actually asked you out on a date. It was the best night of his life.

Five years later, you were married and had a baby. You moved to a nice house in a quiet neighborhood, and even adopted a stray dog (well, he just got home from work one day and the puppy was chewing on one of his expensive shoes, while you had the widest grin he ever saw on someone's face).

Ransom loved you with all his heart. And when you gave birth to your baby daughter, he loved her beyond words.

But right now, you were set on making him miserable.

"I'm not talking about this again, Hugh." You pointed your finger at him and he flinched. You never called him by his name. "You're going and you're taking Lily with you. Her nanny is sick, and I have to work."

"But babe-"

"Not. Another. Word." You gave him one of your deadly stares, and he actually felt sorry for Lily having such a scary mother. After petting your dog's fur, you turned to Lily on the highchair and peppered her face with kisses, while she giggled. "Mommy's gonna miss you so much baby boo, you tell me if your daddy misbehave!"

Ransom tried not to roll his eyes at you. You pecked him on the lips and he pouted. Before you left the kitchen, he called you:

"Babe, don't forget your jacket. It might get cold."

You smiled at him. You knew he was upset for having to take Lily to his family's horrible get-together.

After your car left the garage, he looked at his chubby baby, wondering if he'd succeed in shielding her from the evil of his family.

Things change after having your first child. First, Ransom started saving money. No more shopping sprees for him. Then, he actually tried to get his own thing, in which he failed miserably. Seeing his struggle, his good old grandad secured him with the ownership of their publishing company (for Walt's despair). The only catch: he'd have to show to family meetings at least until Harlan Thrombey's death. 

Which was how he was stuck in this mess in the first place. 

Ransom was not stupid. He could handle these annoying game nights, dinners and whatever by provoking everyone and leaving after setting the mood for a big fight.

But bringing his baby with him?

Big no.

Well, you shared his opinion on this. You two would avoid having Lily in their company as best as you could, but some things couldn't be helped.

Your trusted nanny called in sick, and you couldn't bring Lily to work.

Ransom wanted to cry. 

He took the fussing Lily out of the baby seat and struggled to put her in the carrier attached to his front, got her pink bag on his shoulder and closed the door of the car with his feet (how you managed to do all these things so gracefully were beyond him). He got on the front porch of Harlan's home and wanted to scream. What the hell was his great-grandmother doing there, sitting alone on that chilly afternoon, with such a thin blanket covering her?

"Hey Nana, why don't we go drink some tea inside?" He offered. The small old woman nodded, in a way he new she didn't actually acknowledged him.

Fuck his family for treating Nana like she was something disposable.

Ransom took Nana's small hand on his and carried her to an armchair in the living room, where Fran was serving tea to Harlan.

Before Ransom could even say "hi" his grandfather was already up and speaking in his "baby" voice with Lily. His daughter giggled, showing her cute teeny tiny new teeth.

It was fucking cute, but the days of Lily's teething made Ransom and Y/N traumatized.

"Hi to you too, granddad." Ransom rolled his eyes, sitting across his grandfather's seat.

"Tea?" Fran offered Ransom. He thanked her, an habit you made him build. Saying "thanks", and "please", things his parents didn't bother to teach him. He wanted Lily to be better than him, and by that, he had to make himself better than whatever he was.

The first time Ransom apologized to Fran, the woman was so shocked that she broke in a fit of hysterical laughter, while Marta just blinked like she was imagining things.

Ransom took a walk with Lily still safely attached to his chest. He didn't want to admit it, but she was getting heavier and harder to carry all the times. God, after five minutes he needed to sit down on a wooden trunk to recover.

Feeling like his breath was coming to normal again, Ransom went back to the house, noticing that there were more cars parked there.

Here comes the shit show.

At the dining table, Richard's voice mixed with Walt's, like they were competing on who would talk louder. Linda absently smoked a cigarette, promptly ignoring Joni. Jacob and Meg where fighting over politics or some shit, and Donna was on her phone.

A miserable-looking Marta sat between Fran and Nana on the small couch on the corner.

And Harlan ignored the rest of them, with a glass of whiskey dancing in his hand.

"Oh, there he is! And look who is here too!" Linda beamed, putting out the cigarette. 

Ransom grimaced when his mother's nicotine smelling hand brushed against his daughter's face. Lily was so calmed before, and it broke his heart when she started crying her lungs out, like she wanted to be away from Linda's greedy presence.

Lily's crying made everyone shut up. She was born eight months ago, and they saw her only once, when Ransom and Y/N took her to Harlan's when she was a newborn. Linda and Richard tried to visit Ransom's house a few times, but they quickly grew bored of the grandparents role.

Joni, Donna and Walt couldn't really care less for baby Drysdale. Meg tried to be as nice as she could with Lily, but she was terrified of babies. As for Jacob, Ransom didn't want that little creep close to his daughter.

"Oh, Ransom, is she hungry or something?" Linda grimaced at Lily's screams. 

No, mother, she's upset because she hates you. Ransom wanted to yell at Linda's face, but he just took Lily in his arms and rocked her gently, kissing her sweaty temple and running his thumb over her tears.

"Shh, love. 'S okay, daddy's here for you. My brave little girl, everything's gonna be alright, I'm here for you." Ransom whispered gently to Lily.

Linda gulped, suddenly feeling her eyes watering. She wondered if she could go back she'd be a better mother. She doesn't remember ever holding Ransom like that, not even when he was a baby. She didn't even breastfeed him, and she and Richard never woke up in the middle of night to soothe Ransom's cries. Not when they had nannies for that. Not when they could buy their way of not giving him their time or affection.

"You're good with her, son." Richard cleared his throat, feeling the same guilt wash over him.

"Of course I'm good with my own daughter." Ransom scoffed, still rocking Lily in his arms. He lowered his head to her. "There you go, baby. Wanna hang out with auntie Marta while daddy spend some time with these assholes? Huh?"

Marta smiled a little at the snarky remark, and Ransom passed Lily to her, who was already making grabby hands for Marta.

Of course she likes the immigrant nurse, Linda bitterly thought.

"Wow, that was so cute, Ransom!" Meg complimented. "You make me think even I could be a good parent! No offense, of course."

"None taken, cousin. Having children is life changing if you're ever willing to have your own."

"Ohhh, I miss when Meg was that tiny. You were the cutest thing ever, baby." Joni took Meg's hand on her own. Donna and Walt's gaze strayed to Jacob, who smiled at them.

The memories of Linda, Neil and Walt's feet running in the house flooded Harlan's memory. How he missed them like that. How he missed his deceased son and wife. 

The atmosphere in the living room was way more harmonious, almost soothing. The Thrombey-Drysdale family was taken aback by Ransom's behavior. They never thought he'd be a good father.

[delicatebarness]

The Mercenary’s Daughter | Prologue

Summary: Lloyd Hansen trained his children to be the perfect weapons. His only girl, the exception, was his favorite and the best.

Warning: Emotional Pressure | Emotional Neglect | Child Training | Physical Intensity | Parental Expectations | Conditional Approval

Word Count: 307

Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: This story came to mind because @lanabuckybarnes and I discussed how Lloyd would react if a baby was left on his doorstep. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The Mercenary's Daughter: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged | @soelstress

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes

“Again,” he commanded, his voice low but unyielding. Filling your lungs, the morning air was sharp and biting– a cold that matched your father's gaze. His hands were clasped behind his back, standing across from you with a steady stance. His eyes scanned your body with critical precision, taking in every detail and making mental notes of every flaw as you gripped the wooden training staff in your small hands. 

You shifted your feet, breathing calmly and bracing for the strike you knew would come. He never held back, not when it came to you– his only daughter, his favorite. He trained you to be better and pushed you the hardest. You had to be faster, and quieter– a weapon sharper than his older children, his sons.

He nodded, signaling for you to begin, and you did. Your small frame moved with precision and instinct, straining every muscle. You kept up with the grueling pace he demanded. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead, not once did you falter. He expected excellence, so you were nothing less than perfection. 

“You’re not like your brothers,” he said, his tone softer after the hours of drills. Yet, there was still that edge that kept your attention. “You’re sharper. Smarter.” The tiniest glint of pride flashed in his eyes, so brief that for a moment, you doubted if it was real. But, it was still enough. It was everything.

Outside the Hansen family, you were known as “The Child.” A shadow, a whisper. A name spoke in fear. But to your father, Lloyd Hansen, you were his creation– the exception. And, as the early morning sun rose over the estate, a pale light shining over the training yard, the weight of his expectations settled over you. 

You promised yourself one thing at that moment: You would never let him down.

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[royalsweetteaa]

Hi! I really like your HC AU. Could you do one of how Cevans characters would react to reader flinching during an argument?

Oooh I love this idea! 🥹💔 Let’s get to it!

POV: Y/N flinches in midst of an argument.

Warning - The following HC contains: angst/fluff, comfort, reader has hinted trauma.

Steve Rogers

Steve would cut himself off and stare at you. “Doll, why did you wince like that?…did I raise my voice too loud? I didn’t mean to if I did but I….you know me…I have never and wouldn’t…” Steve begins to ramble a little with his words as he processes what just happened. “Who hurt you, my love? Please, tell me…I’m worried…this had to have come from somewhere, right?” Steve asks as he’s ready to receive an explanation while pulling you in to stroke your back gently. He listens, already plotting in his head to pay ‘someone’ a visit responsible for your trauma response.

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom raises his eyebrows as he sees you flinch and he furrows, confused. “Kitten,…did you seriously think I was about to hit you just now?” Ransom would ask with his arms crossed. “…Do you think I would steep that low?” A part of him takes offense as he first assumes that’s the whole story, but the pieces pick up slowly that this could have come from a previous encounter. He sighs, realizing he’s handling this poorly. “Darling…I didn’t mean for you to react that way. I hope you’re not scared of me…are you?” He’s relieved when you shake your head, and he decides it’s best if you both take a break from arguing. He comforts you, reassuring there’s nothing to be worried about. He hopes you’ll eventually tell him and explain on your own why you flinched.

Andy Barber

Andy would shut his mouth the moment he sees you flinch, and he would stay still as he processes the moment. When he receives your look of feeling guilty, his face softens, “Oh honey…it’s okay, let’s stop arguing about this and talk about what happened, okay? Did I scare you?” He asks first, not wanting to put much pressure on you. He wants to know right away if it was him who had caused you to flinch, and he wants you to feel safe so he speaks in his most soothing tone. When he sees you’re not reacting negatively to his closeness, he pulls you in to an embrace, making you feel safe.

Jake Jensen

Jake would stiffen, wondering what just happened to make you flinch. “Are you okay? You just flinched as if I was going to…” his heart breaks in a million pieces as he puts two and two together. He carefully takes your hands to give you reassurance. “Baby, what happened? Was it me?…You know you can talk to me about anything…I’m all ears, always.” Jake would reassure as he makes you sit down on the couch with him encouraging a chat about it. This incident would bother Jake for a long time, and he would often catch himself in future mid-arguments asking if he’s not coming across as too aggressive to make sure you won’t react like that ever again.

Johnny Storm

Johnny’s sentence would die out the moment he sees you wince and ask, “What was that?”, distraught and confused. “Did you just…” he doesn’t complete his sentence as he flattens his hands and raises them. “Babe,…I’m never putting my hand on you…my parents, while they died when I was very young raised me good enough to know that’s never okay…I wouldn’t do that even if you called me names or cursed at me like Ben always does!” He makes light out of the situation to distract you and pulls you in to caress you when he sees a small smile form on your lips, already leaving you two to forget about what you were even arguing about.

Ari Levinson

Ari’s response to you flinching would be to take a step back and give space between the two of you. He’s encountered women with traumatic responses before and knows that to deescalate the trigger, he needs to show he isn’t going to do any harm, like raising his hand. He would then say to you in a soothing voice, “Sweetheart,…I apologize if I came off as heated just now…let’s put this aside and think of something else, alright?” He would then crouch down, look up at you and making himself small to further deescalate your trauma response. You would respond getting closer to him and come into his welcoming and warm embrace, as you know Ari’s safe. It’s all forgotten and Ari doesn’t see any point of bringing up the argument again. Your feeling of safety comes first.

Thank you @imyourbratzdoll for helping me out a little on this one! ♥️🥰

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (6) - Good times

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Former!Boss!Steve Rogers x Former!Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader

A/N: Okay, I went a little crazy with all the CEvans charaters in this one.

Warnings: angst, flirty CEvans characters, language, plussized/chubby reader, protective brothers, Lloyd being Lloyd, fluff, domestic brothers

The assistant masterlist

<;< Part 5

Here are the nicknames every brother gave the reader:

Lloyd – Cupcake; Jake – Sweetie; Ari – Sweetness; Curtis – Sunshine; Andy – Pookie; Mike – Flower

“What’s your plan, Lloyd?!” Andy sighs as his brother refuses to tell him about his plan. “I told you that I’m all in. I’ve missed my family…and…”

“And?” Lloyd asks. “What else did you miss?”

“The business, okay. My life is boring and lonely. I can’t breathe right when I’m home at the empty house. The one Laurie wanted me to buy. I hate it there.”

“Congrats on realizing your life is shitty since you left us,” Ari snickers. “How about you find some pussy to get over that uptight bitch you left us for?”

“Ari, don’t,” Jake warns. “We agreed on leaving the past behind. Let’s celebrate that the lost brothers returned home.”

“I second that,” Curtis grumbles. He lifts his glass before downing it in one go. “So, have we already decided on who is allowed to make a move on Y/N first.”

Jake jerks his head toward his brother. He gives Curtis the stinky eye, daring him to make a move on you. “She’s my friend, not yours. I saw her first. I talked to her first. Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Back to the plan you mentioned,” Mike shyly looks at Lloyd. He’s unsure if his brothers even want him to be a part of their plans, but he will try anything to earn his place in the family again.

“You will love it, Mickey,” Lloyd snickers. “We will steal Captain America’s shield. That asshat won’t know what hit him.”

“You want to steal his shield?” Andy furrows his brows. “That’s your endgame? Shield theft. I thought we want to pay him back for humiliating and hurting Y/N.”

“Lloyd, that’s one stupid plan,” Jake groans. “I thought you are the mastermind here. What do you want with the shield? I wanna punch his face.”

“He’s a super-soldier, right?” Mike looks at his phone. He’s watching a video of Steve fighting the Chitauri in New York City. “Damn, he breaks through walls and punches aliens with that shield. I don’t think we will be able to steal the shield.”

“How about we leak nudes of Captain Asshole?” Jake suggests. “Or maybe a sex tape. We need something really dirty and disgusting.”

“I bet he has a small dick. We could just take a few pictures and leak them,” Lloyd hums. “It’s not the worst plan. Lemme think about the details.”

“Hey, don’t take over my plan! It’s mine. I will think about the details.” Jake complains loudly.

Ari rolls his eyes.

“Guys, this is an awful plan. Do you honestly believe the Avengers don’t have a public relations team helping them find shit about the so-called heroes on the internet? Have you never asked yourself why there are no embarrassing snapshots of one of them to find?”

“If you don’t like this plan. What’s your plan?” Jake snaps at Ari. “Rogers is a super-soldier. Y/N doesn’t want us to hurt Rogers.”

“She doesn’t want us to get hurt,” Andy corrects. “We won’t be able to physically hurt Captain America. We need to outsmart him.”

“Let’s steal the shield then,” Lloyd grumbles. “It’s our best shot. He loves that piece of metal. Without it, he’s only a guy in a costume.”

“You mean he’s a guy in a costume with super-strength, and the ability to run through walls,” Andy sarcastically says. “All your plans are, doomed to failure. We need to hit him fast, hard, and without mercy.”

“Aw, look at Mr. Lawyer. He wants to play the big bad mobster again,” Lloyd teases. “Tell me, Andy. How do you intend on hitting a super-soldier fast and hard.”

“What if we drug him?” Mike throws in. “We can drug and kidnap him. If we got him in our clutches, we could give him hell.”

“Hmm…that’s not the worst plan.” Lloyd nods.

“Guys, I finished dinner,” you poke your head into the conference room. “Do you have time for food and a break?”

“Food?” Jake licks his lips. “Of course, sweetie. We will have dinner with you. Right, guys?”

“Sure.” Mike gets up from his seat to follow you like a puppy. “What are we eating, Flower?”

“Flower?” you cock your head to look at Mike.

“Uh-I think the nickname suits you. You’re beautiful, and kind, and you brighten a room when you enter it.” He walks next to you. “Thank you for the breakfast. It was delicious.”

“It’s the least I could do. Your brothers were all so kind and helped me get over the loss of my job, and everything happening with Steve Rogers.”

“I’d like to help you too. What do you want me to do to him? Name it, and I’ll do it.”

“Mike, you should enjoy having your brothers back in your life. Focus on your family and start anew. Forget about Steve Rogers. I intend on doing so. He never appreciated all the hard work I put into organizing his life.”

“Don’t you want to pay him back?”

You shrug. “I quit and walked out of the Avengers building, my head held high. I could’ve made a fuss. But I hate being the victim. People like Sandy believe they always get away with the shit they pull. I believe, one day, karma will bite them in the ass.”

“I love the way you think.”

You chuckle. “Let’s get some food into you. You look so thin.”

“Cupcake, we will never let you go,” Lloyd exclaims before he shoves the last spoonful of food into his mouth. “Damn, you cook like an angel and look like a sexy devil.”

“Lloyd,” Jake grunts. “Stop hitting on her!”

“I don’t need to hit on Y/N. She’s already enchanted by me.”

“Sunshine, the food was great,” Curtis tries to stop his brothers from fighting over you and win you over at the same time. “A toast to Y/N and the wonderful meal she prepared for us.”

“So, Pookie,” Andy’s deep voice catches you off guard, “what are your plans for tonight? Do you have time to tell me more about your contract and what happened with Rogers?”

Lloyd frowns deeply. Not only did Andy give you a nickname, but he also leans closer to you to grip the backrest of your chair.

“We need to keep an eye on Andy,” Ari whispers in Jake’s ear. “He tries to snatch Y/N out of our hands. Our brother is a dangerous opponent. Andy looks like the domestic dream of every woman.”

“Can we not forget about all of this? I’m ready to move on,” you softly reply. “Jake, I’d like to take over the position you offered. I love taking care of paperwork, and cookies.”

Jake grins. If you work with him from now on, he’s got a better chance to win your heart over before one of his brothers gets his hands on you.

“I want to blow his ass up with a hand grenade for hurting you, cupcake. Say yes,” Lloyd almost whines. He’s itching to pay Steve back.

“No violence, Lloyd,” you tut and point your fork at the cocky mustache enthusiast. “I told all of you so. All I want is to start a new life.”

“Alright,” Ari claps his hands. “It’s decided then. You will move in with us and work with Jake from now on.”

“Wait! I didn’t agree to move in with you!” You roll your eyes as the brothers protest loudly. “Guys, I got an apartment.”

“Sweetness, we got a mansion with ten bedrooms. You’ll keep the room you inherit. It has a balcony, a walk-in wardrobe, a fireplace, and a comfortable queen-sized bed.”

“Ari,” you sigh deeply, “that’s not the point here. We don’t even know each other. All you know about me is my sob story.”

“I know you,” Lloyd runs his index and middle finger over his mustache. “I checked your background, cupcake. I know every detail about you and your life and decided to keep you.”

“And if we start a war with Captain America it’s safer for you to stay here, with all of us,” Curtis says. “We can get all of your belongings in no time.”

“We know your apartment was furnished,” Jake says.

You bury your face in your hands and groan. All brothers insist that you must stay at their place. Even Andy and Mike who just met you.

“Guys…”

“Sweetie, please stay here with us. What if Sandy tries to get back at you?” Jake begs. “Rumors say Stark fired her.”

“I don’t think she’ll try to…” You frown. Sandy never liked you. She did everything in her power to get your job and office. “Or would she?”

“See, we don’t know yet, Pookie. Stay here, and we handle the rest.” Andy looks you up and down, humming as you shift in your seat.

Six pairs of stunning blue eyes are set on you.

You sigh and nod. There is no use fighting six stubborn brothers. “Only until we know if Sandy is planning to get back at me…”

>> Part 7

The assistant

@babygirl-one-and-only​, @curlycarley​​, @yoruse​​, @nikkitc0703​​, @mswgtsd​, @albinotigerpython​​, @acornacreacure, @liloxclu @mochionly​ @deansonlywife​

More tags in reblog.

[gremlin-girly]

✨️Beware✨️

Fair folk live beyond this point

You'll be spirited away

My blog is 18+ and so is this fic collection. Not all fics will contain smut but be warned that the majority of fics in this collection contain dark, dub/non-con themes. I have tried to tag them as best I can but please read at your own risk.

Mood board by me, made in Canva and pics from Pinterest (credit to OG posters)

Much like Sun, Sea and Sirens the creature type isn't revealed until it is posted 🥰 But as per the poll, Water Fairy won! I hope you all enjoy this new AU with me x

Dividers and Headers by @/cafekitsune

Key: ❗️series, 💀 Dark, 🔥smut, 💕 fluff

Blackberry Wilds 💀🔥❗️

Bucky x f!reader

Between the Reeds and Waterlillies 🔥💀❗️

Ransom Drysdale x Water Fairy!f!reader

Labyrinth 🔥💀 (maybe )

Lloyd Hansen x f!reader

Strawberry Moon 🔥💕

Skinny!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Song of Spring 🔥💀💕

Jake Jensen x f!reader x Curtis Everett

Broken Wings 💕🔥 (maybe ❗️)

Cole Turner x f!reader

Brownie Points

Frank Adler x f!reader

Undine Love

Ari Levinson x f!Reader

Wishing Well 💕

Colin Shea x f!reader

Will O' Wisp 🔥💀

Johnny Storm x f!reader

[thezombieprostitute]

Which CE character would help with calming overwhelming anxiety?

Short answer, a lot of them.

Ari Levinson, Curtis Everett, Steve Rogers: They know what to do and immediately step in to take care of you. They're your weighted blanket. Your reassurance. Your teddy bear. Whatever you need them to be.

Cole Turner, Jake Jensen, Johnny Storm: These guys initially panic. There's a lot of trial and error as they learn what works and what doesn't work. But you're definitely their priority throughout the whole thing.

Andy Barber, Frank Adler, Nick Vaughn: These guys seem like the type who would help you out, but I don't know enough about them to say one way or another.

[urcatslitterbox]

Having extremely dirty thoughts about an alpha watching their omega cum on their teddy bear

[when-all-the-world-is-asleep]

Eva. You have made me so weak in the knees for Orc Curtis... I need to lie down for a long time.

Forage and grind

orc!Curtis Everett x female reader

summary: You always felt like you belonged there. Naively, you even felt safe. But when his silent observation snaps into action and you learn why you caught his interest, belonging starts to hold more terror than longing.

warnings: orc!Curtis; dark!Curtis; heavy dub-con; captivity; thigh riding; rope bondage/shibari; suspension; oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected sex; heavy breeding kink; size kink; hints of degradation;

word count: 5k

Author's Note: I'm a bit late with this installment in the Scaretale universe, but life happens and you gotta deal with it 😜 Some parts of this story I'm happy about, some not so much. You judge for yourself.

Shards of light bounced off the golden coin, sending flickering butterflies of yellow around. The club was a glowing, warm space, but you always appreciated the additional reflection or spark, especially those tossed your way. 

You grinned, catching the coin mid air. You slipped it into the little pouch hung by the belt around your waist, where it softly clinked as it met a few other shiny tips you’ve been given that evening. 

Scaretale had the reputation of a place of mystery and horror, which you never understood. Granted, being filled with a variety of creatures (some of which were barely contained beasts) made it somewhat scary, but you never felt that shiver of wariness that so many of your friends, or people in general, experienced. 

As you moved around the club’s floor you felt warmth and a particular, restrained camaraderie. Not safety, exactly, but something akin to familiarity. 

The interior was elegant, fancy even, combining human modern design with the lush mystery of dark magic born in the heart of ancient woods and meadows. It was not only aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but called to your heart with a reflection of something hearty from the old times before you were born. 

It was that obsession with medieval stuff, as your friend called it, rolling her eyes. And she claimed that you applying for a job at Scaretale was taking that obsession way too far. Especially since, in her eyes, the creepy haunted-mansion-like club had nothing in common with medieval, or even renfaire vibe. You wondered if her eyesight was skewed. 

You felt drawn to the Scaretale, as you were to the monsters’ realms themselves. Not fascinated, but simply drawn, as if you knew you belonged there. 

Which is why you were stubborn and pushy when you approached Ransom with your brilliant offer to work there as a waitress. 

Something he was clearly disinterested with. 

At first, at least. Because as you listed your experience from human establishments you worked when in college, Ransom’s eyes twinkled with sudden recognition. That shifted into a dark sort of excitement, which for a split of a second made you wary. 

You may have found Scaretale as a place where you felt comfortable, but its owner wasn’t someone you’d ever let your guard down around. 

All that mattered was that he agreed and you found yourself hired as the only human in a monster club. With monsters’ silver and gold coins, it turned out to be a quite well paid job, too. 

Though you felt in your element when moving between booths and nooks, your instincts still reacted to some of the creatures with more fear and caution. You learned who was more approachable and open to conversation, or teasing (like the satyrs who always flirted and regularly tried to talk you into joining an orgy), and who was better served quickly and subserviently (a growly werewolf, for example). 

Some monsters came only once, snatching their match and leaving. Some were regulars, seeking fun and new bodies to debauch. 

There were also regulars whose agenda you never figured out. And you tried not to be too curious about it.

A group of enormous, beefy orcs visited every two weeks, or so. Though they were restrained in the way they talked, when they walked through the club everyone seemed to tense in fear. 

Orcs were the most known warriors. Bloodied, ruthless, ripping worlds to shreds. As a human your knowledge was limited, but from snippets heard here and there you learned that their race raided many kingdoms and realms in the past millennia. Nowadays they were more like mercenaries.

With the occasional brutal raid for their own benefit. 

They came to the Scaretale cleaned up, but you still could easily imagine their bodies splattered with the enemy's blood. Not to mention the glint of weapons always present at their side, which made your skin crawl with trepidation. 

Your instincts often whispered caution when you waited for some of the creatures visiting, but when it came to these orcs the alarms were ringing loud. 

It wasn’t just prey sensing a predator prone to snap its teeth, but a sense ingrained into your blood like voices of the generations passed. 

It always skyrocketed when you felt the burning gaze of the biggest orc following your every move. 

He appeared to be the leader; it was clear in the way their group lined when cutting through the club, as well in the way they sat around the table. Not to mention that one time when you picked their orders from the bar and the bartender pointed at one of the beer mugs saying that one was for the war chieftain.

His mug was bigger than the rest and the foam floating on top sprinkled with crushed juniper berries. An unusual combination of flavor, you thought, but didn’t pay it much attention. 

Or rather, you tried your best to not pay it attention.

Which was hard to do when you felt his eyes following your every move and when you had a full body shiver reaction upon seeing that monstrous figure whenever you served the orcs’ table. His biceps alone were the size of your whole head. You were sure that he could crush your skull with just one of his big hands. 

The other orcs were large and intimidating, but their war chieftain surpassed the scary level. 

Still, you schooled your features and played a polite waitress role. You even encouraged yourself with a little inward game of pretending to be a medieval inn beer-maid. After all, the setting was perfect with the Scaretale’s vibe and a group of sword-and-ax wielding warriors as your customers. 

That night, however, as you were about to bounce from one served table to theirs to take their never changing order of limitless beer, you found that four of the orcs had already left. Or disappeared for the moment. But there was still one left at the table.

Their leader. 

The one scaring you the most. Always intently observing you with those piercing blue eyes. 

His pale, green-tinted skin made those inhuman irises stand out even more. There were some faint, green markings along his cheeks, but you didn’t know if it was a part of his natural pigmentation, or some sort of a deeply ingrained tattoo. 

Orcs were said to be unkempt beasts, but his beard was groomed. Thick and dark, bearing flecks of gray. His lips were a shade of pale pink, wide and plump, and spreading where two white lower canines grew out into sharp, tusk-like features. Unlike his companions, who had their hair braided, or cut into mohawks, he had his hair buzzed close to the scalp. 

He had one of his elbows resting on the table, thick fingers rapping slowly against the wood. His other arm was thrown across the backrest of the seat. Though in rest, his muscles were bulging; evoking a flicker of terror at the thought of him actually flexing and using those massive arms as he fought. 

Compared to him, you were small and fragile. 

Despite certain aspects of the size difference turning you on, you’d rather not test those urges with someone as dangerous and brutal as the orc. 

Hair on the back of your neck raised in alert as you neared the table. His gaze was on you for a while now, but it felt scorching hot the closer you came. Mustering an easy smile, you asked him if he wanted the usual (always that damn beer with juniper berries). 

“No.” His gruff voice rolled over you like a lick of thunder. “I’m done with poor substitutes.”

A frown marred your face. You didn’t understand what he was referring to. The Scaretale’s beer came from the best breweries and was spiced with some extra fae herbs. No customer has ever complained. 

Also, you didn’t think this orc would quietly stand for something he didn’t like the slightest bit, and he was regularly drinking that beer. 

Suddenly, a large hand wrapped around your wrist and you were yanked forward. 

With a gasp, you landed on his thigh. Your legs parted as your center settled atop a thick, leather-covered thigh. He held your wrist in one hand, while settling the other on your waist. You weren’t a tiny creature by any means, but his huge palm seemed to span your entire side. 

“Do you know that orcs are most known for raiding elven kingdoms?” He asked in a hushed tone, as if he was sharing a secret with you. You shook your head in response. 

As you learned of different monsters, when it came to the orcs you often stumbled upon art depicting huge beastly warriors doing explicit things to elven maidens, but you thought it only to be a kink many humans liked to think of, disregarding actual history and nuance. Especially, since you never met or heard of an actual elf existing.

Honestly, you suspected it was also humans’ fault - twisting the information on fae folk and coming up with new names for the subspecies.

“For riches and land, like with any other realm, but-” his fingers dug a little deeper into your skin and he pulled you along his thigh, making you gasp. “The main reason was to capture elven maidens.”

“There was something about the elven women that was irresistible to us. How fragile they were compared to orcs in size. How sweet and wild they smelled. How tight their holes were around orcs’ massive cocks.” 

He grunted out the last part, once again drawing your body forth on his thigh. With your legs spread and layers of your skirt too thin to provide cover, hard muscle of his thigh and the rough edge of leather pants he was wearing grazed your sensitive clit. 

“It’s still believed that elven cunts are the ripest for orc seed. Taking it so well and bearing many healthy babes.”

There have been some encounters with a few openly lustful visitors in the Scaretale, but none breached the boundary with you. No one grabbed you and put you into his lap, and made you grind against their thigh while they revealed obscene details behind their species’ primal behavior. 

This orc acted as if he had the right to move your much weaker body anyway he pleased. If he merely toyed with you, perhaps you could twirl away with the excuse of your duties awaiting. However, there was something about the way he treated you that rang a different kind of alarm. 

“Chieftain-” you placed your hands against his wide chest, trying to squirm away.

“Curtis.” He gripped you tighter and bounced his leg, making you moan as the meat of his thigh crushed your clit. “My name’s Curtis.” 

While you would welcome any customer telling you their name with a cheeky smile, this orc wanting you to know it and use it when you addressed him was like sealing your fate. 

You froze as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a whiff of your scent and sweat. He groaned in delight and the sound of it vibrated down your chest, puckering your nipples into stiff points. 

“And you hold the unmistakable fragrance of juniper berries bathed in dew, my little elfling.” 

His words rolled over your body, trailing fear in their wake. It was no random sentence to make about you. Not after the brief recap of filthy history he treated you to minutes ago. 

His intense obsession made sense now. A terrifying sense. Impossible, too.

“I’m human!” You protested, fighting with all your might against the fate he laid out for you, before you even knew it would concern you directly. 

“You are,” Curtis didn’t deny it, “but somewhere in your lineage an elf mixed their blood with your human ancestors. That gene sparks intensely in your body.”

There was never any tale, not even a secret family anecdote that regarded a relationship with a magical creature. If it was a scandalous romance, it was hidden well, too. You could call bullshit. Claim it was a lie that Curtis used to grope you and have his way. But with how intensely he was always observing you, how he acted now, despite previously shown restraint, you had a feeling he wasn’t tricking you. 

Then the memory of Ransom near cackling with glee after studying you for a longer moment resurfaced. He didn’t want to hire a human, he had no interest in it. But if he sensed you were part elf and he knew orcs were his regular customers…

Yeah, Ransom wouldn’t pass that opportunity for mayhem and his own gain. 

“Please?” You looked up at Curtis. “Let me go? I- I have work to do. And-” 

Your words turned into a muffled moan when plush lips suddenly crushed into yours. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. The way Curtis’ mouth took yours was barbarous; a shard of that savage pillaging he boasted about. 

You felt the pressure of his tusks against your face, but surprisingly neither even nicked your skin. His tongue plunged between your lips in a savage thrust - as disgusting as it was, something about it made your body shake to its core. 

Was it your weakness for primal wildness that responded so eagerly?

When Curtis pulled away, your mouth was tingling and wet. Your panties felt sticky, too. 

“You’re an addictive sweet little berry, Juniper.” He hummed, rubbing his big thumb along the seam of your inner thigh. “And I’m going to grind you hard, until I bathe whole in your fragrant juices.”

Heat flooded you as an image of brutality with which he’d take your body flashed in your mind. 

There wouldn’t be anything smooth, or delicate about the way the orc treated you. Not because you thought him to be incapable of finesse, but you sensed he was excited about ruining you. 

A squeak ripped out of your throat when Curtis suddenly got up. He hoisted you over his broad shoulder, gripping your struggling body with ease. None of your screams to be let go were respected. And none of your yells for help were answered by anyone from the club. 

Lights of Scaretale, welcoming and homey until now, blurred as you were being carried away. Until darkness of one of the mysterious corridors swallowed you. You had no idea where the orc was taking you. Your knowledge of the corridors was very limited, knowing only that some of the monsters took their partners that way. 

He didn’t slap you when you wiggled, but his large hand spread over your ass and gave a hard squeeze. Probably to remind you of the size and strength of him that surpassed yours a thousand times. 

It didn’t stop you from trying to bolt when he eased you down on your feet. Your surroundings were completely different from the familiar layout of the Scaretale, yet so innocently domestic it gave you a whiplash. 

It appeared you were in some cottage, not very modern judging by the interior. Wooden furniture and wrought-iron details. The bed standing in the middle was an enormous feature, as was a round wooden bathtub in the corner. A type where you had to boil your own water to fill it with. 

If you were looking for a medieval experience, that was the fucking peak of it. 

Curtis’ big hand snatched the back of your shirt as you tried to run away, yanking you back to him with ease. The fabric tore as he gripped it and the orc simply ripped it fully off of you. Then your skirts.

“No!” You struggled between the urge to cover your naked body and scratching the monster towering over you.

“You’re spirited and strong, that’s good.” He praised, easily capturing your wrists in one of his hands. “You’ll fit the war chieftain’s wife role. Bear healthy babies, too.” 

“No worries-” he interrupted your next splutter of protests with a calm, almost mocking tone. “Orcs have mastered the ways of breaking an elven maiden into an obedient, dripping wife.” 

In a swift move he had you plastered to his chest, one arm securing both of your hands at your sides as he reached for something with his free hand. Then something abrasive brushed your skin.

The first loop of the rope around your middle and arms surprised you so much you only gasped. But then Curtis weaved it up and around, creating intricate patterns on your torso as he tied knots and interlooped thick strings of rope. He crossed it around and between your breasts, squeezing them as he tightened it. 

He forced two strings of rope between your lips, creating a makeshift gag. 

With your upper body completely bound, Curtis gripped your hips and tossed you onto the bed. Before you managed to kick at him, he had your ankles tied. He circled the rope around your legs a few more times, pleating pretty knots, until you were completely immobile. 

“Soon,” he propped your bound ankles on his shoulder as he looked down at your helpless form, “you’ll grow to love my ropes on you.” 

You glared at him, but your objection was muffled by the strings across your mouth. 

The sound of your moan was stifled, as well, but resounded much louder when Curtis bent you in half, bringing your legs closer to your chest as he buried his face in your exposed pussy. 

Your folds were slightly puffed and tingling already, roused from the way he had you riding his thigh in the Scaretale and responding to the graze of harsh rope against your sensitive skin. They were begging for a tantalizing tease to continue, to draw your pleasure to a maddening sharp edge. 

But the onslaught of a hungry mouth conquering your wet softness short circuited your brain. 

It was so savage, yet something about it being unapologetically brutal and ruthless scorched your body in a blaze. 

Moan turned into a choked cry as Curtis’ fat tongue licked between your folds and entered your dripping hole. Your breast swelled, the bite of rope heightening as your chest arched within the bonds. Your fingers curled helplessly at your sides, unable to grip anything. 

The sounds Curtis made as he feasted on you were obscene - uncultured, beastly growls and slurps. When he sucked on your clit, your own voice gurgled against the makeshift gag. 

“That’s it, Juniper,” he grunted against your pussy, drinking up your juices. “You’re gonna cum on the orc's tongue. Gonna be my good slut. My own breeding stock.” 

You writhed against the bonds. Against the growing pleasure that was rapidly nearing the precipice. But it was inevitable. His wide, plump lips devoured you, munching on your folds like on the juiciest fruit, before ripping the seam with a tongue brutal like an axe and squishing your clit with rough licks. 

You came with a scream. Within your bonds, the orgasm seemed to be relentless, rattling in each limb like a caged animal. 

When Curtis lifted his face to stare down at you, a dark triumph of conquest glinted in his eyes. He counted your body giving in as a battle victory. And you knew he wasn’t done raiding that field. 

Your slick shone on his face and beard, his tusks were sticky with it. He made no move to clean it off, bearing that wetness like a proud mark of his triumph. 

He kept looking at you, bracing one of his heavy arms across your legs to pin them to your chest, as his hand moved up the curve of your ass. A single digit swiped between your swollen folds, stealing your breath anew. An orc’s one finger was like two of yours, maybe even thicker. 

Curtis didn’t coo at you when you mewled at the intrusion as he pushed that finger into your still fluttering pussy. He snarled in hunger, pushing it against the resistance of your tightness. 

“Breathe through it,” he instructed harshly. “Save your cries for when I split you on my cock.”

You preferred not to think of that part, but it was hard to block it when Curtis started thrusting his digit in and out of you, mimicking what he was going to do using his cock. His inhuman, monstrous, orc dick. 

A shiver rocked your whole body, clenching your walls around his finger. 

“Oh yes, my sweet little berry,” Curtis grinned, lewdly flicking his tongue to lick his bottom lip and the side of his tusk. “I’m going to force my cock into your snug pussy. Stretch it so good and deep.” 

“Hear how wet you are for me already?” He teased, thrusting his finger rougher and raising the embarrassing sound of squelching. “Your cunt’s weeping for my cock and my seed.”

You shook your head, but all movement ceased and your eyes rolled to the back of your head when Curtis pushed a second finger along with his index one. His groan of pleasure was louder than the echo of sloshing wetness trickling around his digits. 

“What a good, hot, wet hole.” He moaned, slowly dipping in and out of your channel; delighting in the feel of your velvet walls gripping his fingers. 

“Bet the other one is just as good.”

You didn’t have time to process his words when he eased one of his fingers out of your pussy and firmly pressed it against your rim. 

Despite your gurgled, weak protests, his finger was slick enough with your wetness that he breached your hole with ease. Well, to him it may have felt easy, but to you it was a struggle depriving you of air. 

“Never had your tight ass penetrated, my wild Juniper?” He looked at you, gloating. “I swear, conquering your body tastes better than any bloodbath and battle victory.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a lewd moan leaving his lips as your walls cinched around his fingers. Then his eyes snapped open again and he was staring down at you, greedily catching every grimace and flicker of pleasure on your face as he fucked both of your holes with his fingers. Faster and faster. 

His grin was near terrifying when your body tensed and you cried out an intense release. 

Curtis pushed his fingers as deep as he could, wiggling them slightly as your walls pulsed around them. When your high subsided in slow waves, he withdrew his fingers and smeared your own cream all over your ass and thighs. 

When he let your legs drop onto the mattress and untied the rope around them with a single tug on one of the knots, you prayed reprieve was coming your way. But then he was flipping you onto your belly and yanking you down across the mattress.

Your legs hung over the edge of the bed, toes barely reaching the floor. Only for a moment. 

Because Curtis bound them into a new position, spreading your legs wide apart. Another rope was weaved and knotted between some of the existing loops. Then he tugged. Harshly.

And your body lifted off the bed. 

You squeaked, confused. Your body swayed in air, yanked higher as Curtis tugged on the rope again. Focused on the sensations he ripped from your body and his presence cutting off anything else, you didn’t notice the iron hooks drilled into the ceiling. Through which Curtis weaved some of the ropes, lifting your helpless body to a preferred height. 

“You’ll rely only on me, Juniper.” Curtis growled, rubbing your parted thighs. “On the bonds keeping my elven slut in place. And on my cock ripping your tight pussy.” 

Your tongue moved against the rope between your lips, failing to sound the pleads for mercy. A tremor rocked your body as you felt the orc’s large body pressing itself between your spread thighs. 

The leaking head of his cock brushed against your abdomen and when you felt Curtis’ hips settle against your butcheeks the whole length of him pressed against your belly. When he held it like that the tip of his dick reached your belly button. 

There was no further preparation graciously given as he gripped his cock and guided it up between your parted folds. Then again, perhaps you should consider him thoughtful, given the two earlier orgasms he wrung out of you to have you creamy and loose. 

Still, when the bulbous head of his dick pressed against your cunt, your entire body tensed. 

It was too big. His entire body was too big. And you had no choice, but to take-

Not a scream, but a moan so high pitched and strangled ripped out of your throat that you were sure it could be heard loud and clear to anyone outside the cottage. 

Curtis speared into you in one, firm stroke, not bothering with the slow and gentle. His cock stretched you wider than two of his fingers had. It sunk deeper, too. To the point of near discomfort as the tip nudged your cervix. 

“Fuuuuck!” Curtis moaned shamelessly, digging his meaty fingers into your hips and holding your swaying body in place. 

“What a snug, delectable cunt.” He rolled his hips in a circle, eliciting new sensations that had you mewling. He chuckled in response. 

“I’m gonna be riding and filling that pussy so often, Juniper. Until you swell with my seed. Then I’ll sate its pathetic need as your belly rounds and your breasts leak milk. Then plow it again to plant another babe. And another.”

Your walls fluttered around him. Heat filled every inch of your body, even as fear and shame mixed at the prospect of enduring all that he promised. 

A gasp soaked into the rope gagging your mouth as Curtis used your bonds to move your body. He wasn’t fucking you, he was swinging your suspended body back and forth, using you. 

Quite slowly at first, relishing in the way your tight channel was clinging to him as his cock eased out. Then the way you stretched around the veiny girth as he plunged back in. It was after one of the easy strokes, when your cream gushed out as his hips met your asscheeks, that Curtis snarled impatiently.

And started really fucking you. 

Not only swaying your body, but meeting it with rough thrusts of his own. Battling any remaining resistance and conquering your body. 

Your breasts bounced with each move, your nipples tightened painfully. Saliva was pooling around the rope gag in your mouth, wetting the hemp and dribbling down your chin. The slight bite of the rope against your skin evoked a tiny prickle of pain that shifted into a burning kind of caress. Monstrous cock filling your pussy provided unparalleled friction and pressure that your clit pulsed without being directly stimulated.

It messed with your mind and overloaded it with how many sensations could be experienced by your body, even though it was fully immobilised. 

You came in a rush, crying out and clenching your eyes shut as white, hot pleasure bursted through you. Curtis welcomed it with a grunt, snapping his hips faster and harder. 

“Your body’s eager to receive my seed, my spicy berry.” He growled in pleasure. “Creaming and opening up to serve its purpose. I’d be a bad husband, if I didn’t spoil you with what you crave.” 

One of his hands moved across your back to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head up.

“I’d be a poor slut owner, if I didn’t breed you full.” 

His increasing moans combined with the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness; your tiny whimpers getting lost in the wilderness of it all. 

There was a splutter of low, angry barks of That’s it and Take it all as Curtis fucked you brutally. When he bellowed his release it carried outside like a battle cry. 

Your body seized in an unexpected, small orgasm as you felt his thick cock throbbing inside of you and hot spurts of cum filled you. There was so much of it you felt a pressure grow low in your abdomen. 

Curtis held you in place, breathing heavily and kneading your muscles as he filled your body with the last drop of his cum. When he withdrew, you felt a heavy dollop dripping out and splashing somewhere below. 

A tug on the rope had your body plummeting down, but only your upper half lowered. Your cheek rested against the sheets, while your ass still hung higher in the air. 

“Better to hold all my seed in.” Curtis hummed, patting your wet pussy. “Until I’m ready to fill you again.”

You groaned, seeing his hand palming his softened cock and beginning to stroke it back to attention. 

Curtis fucked you four more times that night. Three times having you suspended in the air, though in different positions and angles. For the last, he had you fully on the bed, too exhausted and spent to really fight him, so no ropes were needed. He plowed into you from behind, crushing your body with his weight. 

Though it provided a warm kind of comfort later when he held your curled, sleepy form to his massive body. 

When you woke up late the next morning, the bright near-noon sun was filtering through the wide open windows. Through one of them you saw Curtis. Wearing only his warrior leathers and chopping wood. As you stretched, you felt ache awakening in places you never considered could feel sore. 

You still felt the imprint of his cock inside you. 

And the sticky remainder of his cum, that had to drip out of you during the night.

There was so much of it when he filled you over and over again, you wouldn’t be surprised if the orc managed to obtain his obsessive goal to breed you. 

Your fingers traced across your belly, but before you spiralled into thoughts and images of swelling with the monster’s baby another sensation drew your attention. On your ankle, you felt a soft, insistent caress.  

When you glanced at it, you saw a wide leather cuff. A small padlock was clasped on the buckle, making it impossible to take off the cuff without a key. A thin, but sturdy chain was attached to the cuff, the length of it laid in shiny coils on the floor. 

“You’re not yet broken enough to keep you unrestrained,” came Curtis’ calm, deep voice. 

He stepped inside, the axe in his hand catching the light and glinting dangerously. He put it aside, then splashed his hands with water from a tin bowl placed by the entrance. Thick fingers started undoing his breeches as he slowly approached the bed.

“Spread your legs, Juniper.” He coaxed. “I want to fill your ripe pussy before we make a meal.” 

[kqutie]

THE PRINCESS' SEVEN MERCENARIES

CHAPTER THREE : A DIFFERENT MORNING

relations. : cevans various/reader -- steve rogers/reader ; curtis everett/reader ; ari levinson/reader ; lloyd hansen/reader ; andy barber/reader ; jake jensen/reader ; ransom drysdale/reader

chpt. sum. : your kind hosts allow you to stay the night without further questions and you say thank you by preparing breakfast. the kind gesture means more than you know.

tags. : disney princess reader ; snow white and the seven dwarves au ; fairy tale au ; fluff ; domestic fluff ; reader cooks breakfast ; the men are grateful but also don't know what to say ; these men need a hug and a kiss ; a/b/o universe but it's not the central point ; disney princess reader and her seven sexy mercenaries hehe~ ; cutie pie curtis ; whiny jake ; flusterd steve ; grumpy lloyd ; pouty ransom ; teasing ari ; lovely andy

length. : 4.2k

← two. a fateful meeting | navi. | series masterlist

While Andy and Ari got you settled on the sofa downstairs, the rest of the mercenaries went up to their makeshift conference room. Everyone had their own bedroom, another luxury they demanded from their year contract, however, the conference room was also available upstairs. It helped them with differentiating work and mental repose. Unfortunately, they haven’t been able to luxuriate in the latter aspect as much as they would like. Their living room is left largely, untouched, their kitchen hardly used for its intended purpose and their conservatory collected webs and dust in their absence. 

The year-long contract they signed with the new client was proving to be more challenging than they originally thought. The year deadline was already starting to look incredibly insufficient for the operation they were tasked with. To add to that, their non-negotiable asset for the large cottage as a homely base wasn’t satisfying its intended use for reprieve and was a hard pill to swallow upon realisation. They all looked forward to the stability a home provided and with it, room to live in and rest rather than just work. Alas, their mission was important and needed their full commitment, that was the deal. Having their heart’s desires so close yet unable to partake in was disheartening. And now, they had to house a pitiful intruder too. The bitter reality that someone had been able to indulge in their luxuries was infuriating.     

“I want her out of here by sunrise tomorrow!” Lloyd hisses through clenched teeth, his attitude easily ignored by Steve, who doesn’t even flinch at the stench of displeasure radiating from the pacing alpha. 

“She won’t be staying long at all, Lloyd. She’ll be gone by tomorrow, at least.” somewhat satisfied with the proposal, Lloyd leans back in his designated seat. Steve was trustworthy in that sense, he kept his word, and that’s why he’s the captain of the team. 

Steve focuses his gaze on Curtis, who fixes his gaze back, “Curt, you’ll be escorting her to the nearest village tomorrow. Make sure she settles down at an inn before leaving her be, okay?” Curtis answers with a simple nod but his eyes reflect a muted eagerness for the next day to come. 

“Excused from the mission, eh?” Ransom ponders for a moment, “Tomorrow’s operations will largely depend upon me but I still need a guard to keep close and protect my hide; Curtis has always filled that role,”

“Ari can fill in,” 

“But the bastards at the society are accustomed to Curtis, they’ll ask questions,” Ransom protests with a frustrated exhale. Even his nervous tick makes an appearance whereby he starts trying to unravel his cable knit sweater at the seam of his sleeves. 

“Figure something out.” Steve firmly addresses, “I don’t want her walking to the next village on her own, she doesn’t know where it is and she could get lost,”

Exasperated, Ransom begins to grumble under his breath and would have escalated if Jake hadn’t been at his side to calm him down. Being the only two betas, they understood each other and largely relied on one another for things they couldn’t as easily go to the alphas for. That meant providing a stable foundation to lean on when the other is upset or troubled. “Are we clear, Ransom?”

“...Yes Captain,”

“Good. You’re good with your words anyway, you’ll come up with something convincing,” Steve offers a confident smile that Ransom begrudgingly scoffs at but everyone knows how backwards Ransom’s antics can be — he’s already come to terms with the change. “I don’t think half of us managed to get the things we wanted done today so same thing tomorrow boys. Lights out. I’ll wait here for Ari and Andy so I can tell them what’s up before bed tonight,” everyone nods and finally leave for their rooms, their forms already taking on an exhausted arch. They were ready to call it a day. Full of the hearty meal you had cooked for them, sleep came far more quickly than it usually did.  

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

“Are you sure you’re comfortable?” Ari asks as Andy retrieves some more pillows to tuck in around you. The giggle you let out is music to his ears and he can barely contain his smile. 

“Very comfortable, thank you,” you turn to Andy as he offers a pillow to tuck by your legs and another for you to cuddle to your chest. Smiling up at him, you whisper another grateful ‘thank you’ and he smiles. He’s more than happy to cater to your needs. Both of the men were, hence why they volunteered to help you get settled for the night. They even willingly offered up their rooms for you to sleep in but you gracefully declined. You mentioned how you didn’t want them getting an achy back for sleeping on the small sofa. Your thoughtful response warmed their hearts — you’re a very precious, little thing, the cutest omega they’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. 

“Well, we’ll leave you to sleep then, good night,” the two begin to leave. 

“Goodnight! And thank you again for lending me your sleep shirt,” Ari turns and smiles, suppressing the heat that threatened to explode across his cheeks at the reminder that you were sleeping in his shirt. You were so small compared to him, that his shirt easily appeared as a dress on you. He’s never seen such a beautiful sight before.   

“You’re welcome, goodnight,”

As the two walk up the stairs, Andy turns to his mercenary teammate with pressed lips, “I could have lent her a shirt for the night too, you know…” 

“Yeah but, first come first served,” was Ari’s simple reply. 

“...at least she gets to sleep cuddling my pillow tonight,” It was a small quarrel that easily blended with playful tones and the two ended the talk with matching smirks. Both were equally eager to follow their alpha instincts and care for a sweet omega like you – between them, it was a weakness, truly.  Before calling it a night, they met up with Steve by the conference room door. He informed them of the plans for tomorrow and both easily accepted. Steve made sure to ask if Ari was alright with filling in for Curtis just to be sure but the bearded man didn’t fight the decision. Curtis would take good care of you, Steve made a good choice.  

“Lucky Curt,” Ari shakes his head as Andy laughs. 

“Yes yes, lucky Curt. Lights out, you two,” Steve pats both of them on the shoulder with a light chuckle and moves to his room.  

Mornings were a dull, almost robotic occasion. Plans of operation would have been discussed the night before so that mornings weren’t disoriented and some sluggishness was allowed, although quickly curbed. The team went to bed with the mission as their last thought and woke up with it as their first. 

But not today. 

It was peculiar waking up to such a delicious smell in the air but the bizarre occurrence quickly reminded the hardened mercenaries of what had happened the night before. And, for the first time, in a long time, their morning wasn’t spent prioritising the mission over. Their hunger reigned instead, their heads filled with thoughts of a warm breakfast and a pretty face to greet them at the dining table. What a treat…

Rushing out of his room, Jake comes face to face with Ransom. “Finally warming up to our pretty intruder eh, Ran?” the magi-tech genius teases as Ransom rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not admitting to anything. I just want a good breakfast for once,” Ransom combs his fingers through his ruffled, morning hair and begins making his way down the stairs.

“Me too,” Jake agrees through a sleepy yawn, his hand inching up his pyjama shirt to scratch at his belly. Behind the two, Ari, Curtis, Andy and Lloyd also step out of their rooms, all were still in their sleepwear and slightly groggy. If it was any normal day, they would have been alert and wide-eyed already but the smell of a good breakfast was rather tranquilising.  

“Smells delicious,” Ari comments, scratching at his beard and heading downstairs. 

“There better be bacon and eggs,” Lloyd comments as he does his best to comb back his hair with his fingers and straighten the stray strands of his moustache. 

“Regardless, a good breakfast is better than no breakfast,” Andy says, trying to loosen up the kinks in his shoulder and neck as he traverses the stairs. Curtis follows silently behind them all, his usual thick beanie replaced with a nightcap. He silently salivates at the thought of a decent breakfast. But, if your cooking the night before was anything to go by, the breakfast spread would be just as delectable. 

When the group entered the dining room and kitchen, they weren’t surprised to see Steve already occupying his space at the table, drinking a mug of coffee and a relaxed posture. If their captain was indulging in breakfast, that gave them the full go-ahead. 

“Good morning boys,” you cheerily greet them from your place at the stove. You’re still dressed in Ari’s spare sleep shirt, which comes down to an inch above your knee. And it appears as though Steve had offered you a pair of his home slippers. The footwear looked comically big on you and they couldn’t help but smile at the image. Ari’s smirk is wider than normal but realising that it was his shirt you were wearing, it wasn’t hard to guess why that was the case. 

“Good morning, indeed!” Jake cheers and speedily takes his seat while the others follow behind him much more leisurely, “Dinner and breakfast! Thanks so much!” 

“You’re welcome,” you giggle. “I didn’t know how you liked your eggs so there’s scrambled and sunny-side up. Steve said you’re not fussy but if you want it done a particular way, please say so,” 

With an arrogant smirk, Lloyd tests your offer, “I like my yolks very runny, not jammy like these ones,” some occupants at the table glare harshly at him but he isn’t phased until you’re willingly cracking another egg into your pan. 

“I’ll make you two,” you happily chirp, unbothered by his demand, “you’re really tall and big though so maybe three?”

“J-just two is fine!” Lloyd stutters with a blush on his face. He didn’t expect you to comply so easily and your innocuous comment about his physique threw him for a loop. For a moment, he believed there was something wrong with the customary regulation earring he wore. All persons with second genders were required to wear one by law to keep their influence minimal, regardless of whether they were a beta, alpha or omega. Questioning the device also meant questioning Jake’s genius and that was profound. Jake meticulously kept all of their tech functioning smoothly; it couldn’t have been that. 

“Alright, don’t worry if you want more okay? Just ask,”

“Uh y-yeah…” Lloyd spots Ransom snickering at him from across the table — it was unusual to see their resident executioner and assassin caught off his guard and flustered like this, naturally he couldn’t help laughing. With a harsh kick to his shins, however, Ransom was doubling over in pain and Lloyd was the one smirking instead. 

The spread for breakfast was buttered toast with blackcurrent on offer, fried or scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttery sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes, and a light avocado salad. For drinks, you made some coffee with their stovetop, stainless steel coffee maker and poured apple and orange juice into jugs.  Everyone helped themselves and you were happy to see them enjoying their meal so openly. 

They were very kind to let you stay without forcefully prying for your private information, cooking for them was the least you could do. The atmosphere was also very good, having everyone eat together like this reminded you of the times you would eat with the palace staff at the kitchens. Silas, the head chef, made it a point to serve your meals personally, every single day, for every meal. Now you get to honour his good gesture by paying it forward to the people who have treated you kindly.

“This is so good!” Jake expresses through a mouthful of buttered, jammy toast, Ari helpfully handing him a napkin while he sips his morning coffee. 

“Thank you,” you chirp with a giggle and continue eating your breakfast too. 

“What’s that over there, pet?” Ari speaks up, taking another helping of the sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes to have with his scrambled eggs. The bearded man in gingham pyjamas was nodding to the occupied counter full of wooden tupperware. 

“Oh!” you finish your mouthful first, “They’re your lunches,” the entire table falls into silence, shocked and in awe of your thoughtful nature. This is the first time they’ve ever had a homemade packed lunch. It feels like such a privilege, they don’t know what to say. “I didn’t know what you guys liked so I just made some lightly fried chicken sandwiches with lettuce, cucumber and tomatoes, mini cheesy potato croquettes and, for dessert, mini chocolate pancakes.” turning to the table, you smile shyly, “I hope that’s okay. It looks like you guys work long days and the best way of getting through it is having a good lunch… I really can’t express how grateful I am to all of you,” 

Nobody knew how to voice their gratitude articulately, they were all so touched and also incredibly pleased to have something delicious to look forward to. It’s hard to work up much of an appetite when they’re knee-deep in their work so they don’t realise how starved they are until they have certain tasks done. The accomplishment helps them relax and they finally realise their level of hunger. By that point, they don’t care what they eat, as long as they have something with substance, they’re fine. It was nice not having to worry about their lunch for a day. Not because they’re so busy with their operations but because they know they have something delicious already prepared for them. It, somehow, made facing the work day much better. 

“You’re an angel,” Ari smiles warmly beneath his beard and you look down at your plate, unable to meet his kind blue eyes without getting warm in the cheeks, “thank you for being so thoughtful,” 

Steve smiles also and nods in silent appreciation when you finally look up and meet his eyes. Andy can’t help but shake his head in disbelief – you’re a momentary blessing in their lives, it’s such a shame you’ll be leaving so soon. Looking down the table, he spots Lloyd and Ransom with the same slack-jawed expression and almost laughs at their wonder-filled eyes. Just last night they were complaining about you and now they’re tightly wrapped around your little finger. It was rare to see the conquering of such antagonistic characters, the amusement was natural. 

Meanwhile, Jake is rocking back and forth in his seat, probably being held down by Ari so that the overexcited Beta doesn’t jump your bones in his excitement and gratitude. Curtis is as silent as ever but has a much softer look in his eyes when he looks at you. His gratitude is silent but will be paid forward in full soon enough. Andy doesn’t doubt that Curtis would fight off a bear, a wolf and a mountain lion, simultaneously and win for your safety when he goes to escort you later on.     

“Have you told her about the plans today, Steve?” Andy voices, immediately catching your attention and perking up from your plate of food. 

“Right,” Steve gathers himself, slightly embarrassed that something so important managed to slip his mind despite it being a major factor in their plans. He supposes that he’s just as affected by your sanguine presence as the rest of the team — even Ransom and Lloyd, no matter how much they like to deny it. “Curtis will be escorting you to the next village for today. Unfortunately, the rest of us have important business to attend to in the city and cannot accompany you. Curtis is an exceptional guard though, so you have nothing to worry about.” Steve’s soft expression and kind smile suddenly turn firm as his gaze leaves you to meet the eyes of the other men, “Speaking of, we need to hurry up. We can’t delay much longer this morning.” With a hard nod, everyone (except you and Curtis) finish off the rest of their plates and hurry away. 

“Lucky Curtis…he gets to eat breakfast peacefully and escort the pretty lady,” Jake whines, casting a sorrowful glance over his shoulder as Andy chuckles and slings his arm over the Beta’s shoulder. 

“Lucky we had breakfast today at all,”

Turning to Curtis, your round questioning eyes prompt him for an explanation. The tall guard silently debates if he should answer immediately or not; he rather enjoys having your gorgeous eyes on him. Cute, pretty thing. He doesn’t think he’s ever had the privilege to be around someone so lovely. He’s rather happy he has the honour of escorting you today. 

“We don’t have to rush like they do. It’s, also, not worth asking what we do for a living, that’s confidential information.” his straightforward answer flusters you and your only reprieve is having another spoonful of scrambled eggs. “Let's just enjoy our breakfast,” Curtis chuckles deeply when you don’t meet his eyes but give a shy nod as you stare fiercely down at your plate. 

He thinks you’re absolutely precious. 

After some time, you start clearing up the table while Curtis makes sure there aren’t any more leftovers. You were surprised at his great appetite but judging by his large frame, you guess it wasn’t too much of a shock; he can easily eat four times the amount your portion for a meal. 

“Does everyone just leave?” you ask, looking over your shoulder as you dry your hands with a kitchen towel. 

Curtis shrugs, “They have nothing else to do at the house, why not leave right away?” He wonders what you’re thinking of doing as you gather up the boxed lunches and move to their cosy foyer, where their coats are hanging and their primary worn shoes are stored. 

It doesn’t take long for the team to come down and look questioningly as you stand by the door. You had set the packed lunches on their slim foyer table and they spot how you’ve carefully labelled each one with a loose slip of paper. Seeing their name in your elegant handwriting affected them more than they’d like to admit. Even though the lunches would be the same, knowing that you took the time to somehow personalise them was heartwarming to see – not that Lloyd or Ransom would freely admit it. 

“What’s all this?” Steve asks, collecting his boxed lunch as he approaches you by the door. Everyone else was still putting on their coat and lacing up their shoes. As the Captain, Steve, naturally, was the first one ready. Behind the group, Curtis leanned against the stair bannister, he wanted to see what you planned to do. 

“I just wanted to see you off,” Steve thanks you with a kind smile though a lingering, unanswered question gives a slight arch to his brows. Before the blonde captain can reach for the door handle, however, you’re reaching up to hold the lapels of his coat and gently tug him down. It was only a light tug but the action was so surprising, that Steve easily folded for you. On the tips of your toes, kiss his cheek sweetly. “Thank you for letting me stay the night. Have a good day at work and I hope you enjoy the lunch I made you,” astonished at the scene, the team couldn’t fully appreciate the sight of their openly flustered captain as he readjusted his coat and coughed into his hand. To think that someone so demure and innocent could break down the hardened mercenary captain so easily.

“You’re very welcome, thank you for everything,” Steve gives you a final nod and opens the door. He already anticipates you giving the same treatment to the rest of his men but he’s still red to his ears at the gesture. None of them saw that coming.

Rushing to get his shoes on, Jake manages to get second place and eagerly awaits his cheek kiss too. Again, you thank him for allowing you to stay and wish him a good day before making him promise he’ll eat all of his lunch, “I won’t leave a single crumb, princess!” you almost stutter at his term of endearment but quickly disguise your shock by pressing a kiss onto his cheek. He almost forgets to bring his lunch as he stumbles out the door with the goofiest smile on his face. 

Next was Ari who smiles fondly at your attempt to reach him despite already being on your toes. He doesn’t do you any favours either by stubbornly staying in place. And he stays standing, even when you lightly tug on the lapels of his coat jacket, urging him down. 

“Y-you’re too tall, Ari,” the bearded man laughs and finally leans down.

“You really are an angel,” he whispers into your ear as he receives his kiss. Unable to resist, he presses a kiss to your forehead as he straightens up to join Steve and Jake outside the door with his boxed lunch. Admittedly, his action made you hot behind the ears and up your neck. You were still in his sleep shirt too! 

Next was surprisingly Ransom, who looked at you with unfriendly eyes but you remained unphased. With a kind smile, you reach up and press a long kiss against his cheek. Your other hand even comes up to press against his opposite cheek, holding him closer for longer.

“Why was that kiss so long?” he asks, avoiding your eyes as he fixes up his hair in the hallway mirror. 

“I just wanted to kiss you longer, I guess,” your innocent chirp has the usually put-together man floored. He stumbles out of the front door with his lunch in an almost identical fashion to Jake. Behind him, you smile, happy to have received a more favourable response than his sour scowl. Jake giggles and points at him mockingly but receives a smack upside the head for his audacious impishness.

Andy approaches you next but bends down to kiss your knuckles, “I’ll savour every bite,” his sweet gesture and comment flusters you so much he has to wait for his kiss a little longer than the others while you stand there, fidgeting and forgetting yourself. 

“Thank you, Andy,” you whisper against the skin of his cheek and pull away. The clean-cut man momentarily savours your words and the sweet way you say his name before joining the rest of the team outside. 

“Finally,” Lloyd huffs, uncrossing his arms as he approaches with a deep-seated frown. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting Lloyd,” 

“Don’t say my name like that!” he snaps with bared teeth. If you say his name in your cute-ass voice again, he doesn’t know what the full consequences will entail. 

You giggle, pulling him into a long kiss, just like Ransom, with one hand pressed against his opposite cheek to keep him in place. “Sorry, Hansen?” you try his surname to see if that was a better way of address but you’re only given a scoff and a cold shoulder as Lloyd stomps out of the door with his heavy, leather boots. 

From the front door, you wave the group off sweetly, “Have a good day at work! Stay safe! Take care!” They’ve never had someone so sweet and pretty, and kind wish them well like this. They all engrave your image to memory, hoping to return to the moment every morning after you finally leave. 

They really don’t want you to go at this point…

When you can’t see them any longer, you finally close the door and turn to Curtis, who appears to have been staring at you this whole time. His blank expression and steely eyes make you tilt your head curiously. 

“What’s wrong, Curtis?”

He’s tempted to say nothing but as the silence draws out, he finally succumbs to his childishness. Because it really was childish of him – he’d never felt like this before. “...I don’t get a kiss…” he grumbles like some toddler who feels he’s received unfair treatment. Which was, technically, the case.

“Who says so?” with a giggle, you approach the giant man with his nightcap still on and gesture for him to bend down. He only does so slightly. It was a silly thing but he loved the image of you going onto your tip-toes to kiss the others’ cheeks and he wanted the same treatment; he only leans down enough for you to barely reach him. 

“Thank you for everything, Curtis,” you whisper sweetly before kissing his cheek, “You’re very kind for letting me stay,” you won’t forget how he was the one to stop you from leaving the night before. 

Stretched to his full height again, Curtis smiles down at you,  “You’re welcome.”

navi. | series masterlist | four. the liberal guard →

a/n : the original chapter was getting too long so i decided to split it into two. that way, we can have a chapter dedicated to just Curtis and the chapters stay bite-sized. thank you for taking the time to read my work, my loves, and i hope you enjoy! special thank you to all the beautiful lovelies that are already supporting and loving on this series, it really means so much to me!

taglist : @imyourbratzdoll @lovinglimerence @saturdayrj @baw1066

[delicatebarness]

The Mercenary’s Daughter | Chapter One

Summary: Nick Fowler is tasked with the elimination of a well-protected weapons broked. He learns that the target may be connected to Lloyd Hansen.

Warning: Implied Violence/Assassination | Underground Dealings | Mention of Weapons | Organized Crime | Corruption

Word Count: 685

Support: Ko-FI

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A/N: The book club read the prologue of Cry Baby back to me today so out of embarrassment, I wrote another chapter of this. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The Mercenary's Daughter: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged | @soelstress | @that-one-fangirl69

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes

Neon and noise filled the city, but Nick Fowler tuned it all out as she stood in the small, dimly lit bar on the edge of town. He hated meeting in a crowded area, but his handler insisted on meeting face-to-face for this mission. Nick wasn’t in the business of asking questions.

The door creaked open, and a man sat on the stool beside him—a middle-aged, cheap-suited, and slight-framed man—Nick’s handler, Elijah. He always had a way of blending into the background. No one would give Elijah a second glance, which was exactly why he was good at what he did. 

“Fowler,” Elijah greeted, placing a thick envelope on the bar with a nod. 

“Clarke,” Nick replied, side-eyeing the envelope. It was always business with the pair, no small talk or pleasantries. 

Sliding the envelope closer, Elijah tapped it once with his finger. “We need someone with your particular skill set. A high-profile target.” 

Nick flipped through the papers inside as he lifted the envelope. His blue gaze scanned the contents. It included a name, blurry surveillance photographs, and a list of recent movements– the standard information. He knew this target was protected, well protected, and heavily involved in the underground dealings overseas. 

“The weapon broker?” Nick asked, his voice flat as he paused on a few details in the file. 

“Among other things,” Elijah replied. “Supplying hardware to the groups we try not to speak of. And, other intel suggests there are plans of a major deal within the next month, and we want to intercept him… discreetly.” 

Already mapping the logistics in his mind, Nick nodded along. “Where is he?”

“France, there’s a private compound in Chantilly. Security is tight– high walls, and heavily armed guards. No one gets in or not without the right level of clearance.”

Nick took a sip of his drink, raising his brow with a smirk. “Sounds like my kind of job.” 

Elijah’s expression remained serious. “Fowler, this isn’t a typical job. A source says the broker is working closely with someone we’ve been watching– Lloyd Hansen.” 

Something shifted in Nick’s expression as he looked up. Lloyd Hansen was a whispered name within their circles and an air of mystery and menace. He was a dangerous man to cross– a former military contractor, rumored to have high-level contacts and a network of operatives. 

“Lloyd’s got a stake in this deal?” Nick asked, intrigued more than ever, now. 

“We aren’t sure for now,” Elijah retorted. “It is reported the broker is close to him. It’s believed that if we can take the broker out, it could disrupt any of Hansen’s plans and force him to make a move.” 

The pieces of the mission slotted into place in his mind as Nick processed the intelligence. He had heard all of the rumors, hundreds of times– the elite soldiers who were trained to move in shadows, their loyalty bound only to him. Most governments could only dream of the kind of network he had created, and Hansen was a master at wielding it like an empire. 

“So I go in, eliminate the broker, and see if Mustache rattles?” Nick questioned, more to himself than Elijah. 

“Exactly,” the man replied, his voice steady. “We hope that if Hansen is invested, he’ll come out of the shadows.” 

Closing the file, and placing it back in the envelope, Nick gave Elijah a brief nod. “Consider it done.” 

“Good.” Elijah narrowed his eyes. “And Fowler– watch your back with this one. Lloyd Hansen is not the kind of man to take such interference lightly.” 

A smile tugged at the corners of Nick’s mouth. “I’m counting on that.” 

Elijah rose, leaving the bar without another word and disappearing into the crowded city. Rubbing his hand down his face, Nick let the weight of the mission settle over him. France, a fortress compound, and a target tired to one of the most dangerous men. The job was risky, there was no denying that. But, that was what made Nick interested.

Pocketing the envelope, the agent finished his drink and slipped out. He had a flight to catch.

---

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[royalsweetteaa]

I absolutely love your character HCs and would like your opinion on another: CE Characters reacting to random physical affection. For example, they're reading something and you caress their cheek, run your fingers through their hair, start scratching their back, or even a quick kiss on the cheek?

I’ve been sparing this for when I’m in a certain mood and I’m so ready to write out this HC now. 😌♥️

Steve Rogers

Steve is sitting at the edge of your shared bed, getting ready to take a nap as he’s tired after days of hard work at S.H.I.E.L.D. You decide while he’s sitting there that you should get behind him and give him a back rub. He’s surprised as he looks behind, and that’s when you continue to do a back massage.

“Oh that feels really good, doll. Thank you…is there anything you would like me to do?”

He always wants to service you back, but this time you deny him other than have him stay where he is so you can show care to him. He appreciates it a lot and from then it becomes a frequent occurrence.

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom is sitting on the couch, reading through a magazine about the nominated mystery novels, among those being Harlan’s newest book. He’s so into the reading of reviews that he doesn’t notice you getting behind him, and his head goes blank when your fingers run through the root of his hair. It’s unexpected but it feels heavenly to him, - but of course Ransom being Ransom ruins it as he gets defensive.

“What are you doing that for?” He asks, and you respond how you simply want to take care of him. He laughs as if he finds the idea is amusing to him, and dodges his head away from your touch, “I’m fine, I don’t need you to do that.”

Ransom later groans in frustration when you’re not there, realizing how much of a mistake it was to deny you because he knows he won’t have you touching him like that now unless he asks for it. He hates asking for things like that, but he has to learn from his consequences after all.

Andy Barber

Andy is standing by the kitchen island, sipping on his hot coffee while reading the news on the news paper. It’s a morning routine, and that’s why he doesn’t expect anything other than a kiss as a usual morning greeting from you when you come downstairs. However, as he puts the paper aside and meets your lips, you hold his cheeks with the palm of your hands for a deep kiss.

His eyes widens a bit, not expecting something so intimate from you first thing in the morning, and he speaks when you break away, “Woah, honey. Does it happen that I have done something in particular to receive that kind of greeting? Because if I have I’ll have to do it more often.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you respond something in the lines of you doing it because you love him.

Johnny Storm

Slight NSFW

Johnny is in the living room couch eating his ham sandwich while watching WWE, unaware you’re right behind him. With the both of you being playful comes with shenanigans, and now you are given the opportunity to do something to take him by surprise. You give his hunched shoulder a kiss, and as he leans back to see your face with a dopey smile you grab a handful of his pecs for a squeeze, making him burst out laughing from the ticking sensation.

He puts the plate of food on the table before jumping over the couch, attacking you with physical affection and being grabby with your breasts as you laugh and push him away playfully. “Baby, you started it, it’s only fair I get to do it back.” He says, not letting you get away. You eventually give in to his embrace.

He loves surprises, especially of those being from you where you touch him in the most interesting places.

Jake Jensen

Jake spends time playing video games mid afternoon on his time off, hoping to reach high levels before he inevitably has to go weeks without playing as he goes on missions again. You check on him, chuckling to yourself as you overhear his series of roasts to the team through the headphone microphone as he gets ahead of them. You decide you don’t want to disturb him, and walk over to place a quick kiss on his cheek which makes him stiffen from the sudden affection but he welcomes it.

“Aw thanks, babe…lemme give you one too.” He requests softly, and you get closer giving access to your cheek, receiving a gentle kiss from him.

He decides he hasn’t had enough and leads out to spend time with his girl, not caring that he’s loosing scores as the game carries on.

Bryce Langley

Bryce has been watching tribe documentaries for hours at his place, to the point of having to lay down on the couch with his eyes getting tired. While he naps his eyes, you come by, placing yourself on the empty space beside Bryce’s head on the couch. You sigh, turning off the documentary and Bryce furrows his eyebrows in protest, but before he can say anything, he is given a massage on his scalp, making him relax again.

“Oh fuck, that feels nice, baby. Keep going…” he requests with no shame, the feeling too good to deny.

Ending the evening with a head massage was certainly not in his plans, but Bryce can’t say he minds it at all. Your affections comes above his obsessions.

A/N: Ari will be added when I have an original idea for him. T.T

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[anika-ann]

Our grumpy supersoldiers🤭🥺 I can see the others rolling their eyes at them/teasing them about it/begging you to just FIX THEM, because they are a terror 😂 Tony is the expert on that.

And Ari. My HEART.

Actually my heart goes hjcbsksjsi for most of them, and I'm giggling and awwwing and warm all over... because who doesn't like being missed? 🥺🥺

What a sweet treat🥺💕 thank you for sharing, Ro!

Kind of an angsty question: how do they deal with missing/being away from you?

Ooooo, okay, yeah...Kinda angsty but still super sweet. I can do that! I'm not writing this *exclusively* about being apart ON VALENTINE'S DAY, but that could certainly apply.

Warnings for language and vague sexual references only.

Steve Rogers

Absolutely does not realize how grumpy and on edge he gets if you two are separated for a long time. Steve may enjoy that technology has come so far in the last century, but hell if he's ever gotten the hang of texting. He will call or videochat, and he wildly prefers videochatting because he knows that sometimes you lie (fib, really) about feeling okay. Steve's great at reading micro expressions; time apart also equal time he isn't understanding the full lives of the people he cares about.

Bucky Barnes

Buck mostly blames himself for how much time apart he has from you. He, like Steve, doesn't deal with it very well. He mostly becomes more brooding and snippy the longer it is. Bucky is better at texting than his pal but not better about the contents, so no deep convos happening over the phone (partly because he's rarely alone, partly because he doesn't particularly like being on the phone).

James Mace

He's trained for this. I mean, quite a few of them are, and for very long stretches, distances where realtime conversations are impossible, but Mace is diligent about sending messages. He holds on to very tiny, specific memories of you, stories you tell, and places you've been. Your laugh is the best one, the thing that keeps him going. He does keep a file, notes of funny stuff to tell you when he's back.

Curtis Everett

Is not good at reaching out. Internalizes everything. It's...an ongoing problem.

Jimmy Dobyne

Suffers. Messes with his nails and cuticles a lot. If he's home and you're not, Jimmy obsessively works on one of his many Garage Projects to pass the time. He doesn't enjoy feeling needy, so he won't text more than his regular amount. He will, however, admit to how much he missed you after you return.

Johnny Storm

Uh, he's mostly fine. Hits him at the oddest moments--missing you--and when it does, Johnny can't word his feelings in any meaningful way. He gets antsy to do things, but he doesn't know what. The adrenaline just builds until he finally gets to see you. Basically, he mistakes longing for boredom, so he ends up treating the wrong emotion.

Jake Jensen

Leans a little stalker-y but not on purpose; he's so slick with the tech and using IPN, wifi, and GPS to track your devices. It's soothing when he's away to figure out where you are and what you're up to, especially if he knows you can't pick up the phone (or he can't actually talk anyway).

Lloyd Hansen

I don't know if I'm going soft in my old age or whether @ellethespaceunicorn has whittled down my hatred for him, but my gut is telling me Lloyd constantly checks in if he's "missing" you. (Sure, that's probably more of a sexting thing, and he probably would not answer if you were trying to check in.)

Ari Levinson

Torn. He is also trained to be away and go dark for long periods, but Ari really itches to talk to you, especially just before big moments like missions or presentations. You always help him relax and focus. He can't pinpoint exactly when he became so dependent on you, but he's a touch embarrassed.

Ransom Drysdale

Sends a stupid number of texts about absolutely nothing until you respond. The man has no shame.

Andy Barber

Distracts himself in work, go figure, but hey! that usually means he has wracked up overtime and earned a little vacation once you come back home. A nice long weekend together goes a long way.

Since Andy is very practical and won't put much emotion into text (tell him stuff like that face to face, he prefers it), mostly all he communicates while you are away are reminders of to-dos. He is, however, very diligent about saying he loves you everyday you aren't right beside him...and when you are right beside him

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

a/n: omg is 'IPN' correct? why can't i frickin think of the thingy, the unique address thingymabobber. gerdermit!!!

[holylulusworld]

The assistant poll

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

sorry for back-to-back requests. i very much like the way you write.

I was wondering if you could do a one-shot where y/n replaces peggy’s place in Steve’s story as Captain America, and he goes back for her in endgame. and perhaps she was pregnant at the end of the war. sorry for all this.

Well Deserved Family Life » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife/Pregnant!Reader with Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and Bruce Banner/Hulk

Summary: After Steve takes the infinity stones back where they belong, he goes back to you and gets that family life he deserves.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers 🩵

A/N #2: Bold text is letter to Bucky.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

After the war with Thanos and Tony’s funeral, the infinity stones needed to be taken back where they originally were. Steve decided to do that. As Bruce was getting everything ready for Steve to return the stones, he stood next to Bucky.

“Do you miss her?” Bucky asks, referring to you.

“Yes.” Steve answers softly. “I remember the day you introduced me to her.” He smiles.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so speechless.” He chuckles.

Steve chuckles and smiles at the memory of the day he met you.

“It’s ready, Cap.” Bruce says.

Steve nods. Before getting on the platform, he gave Bucky a hug. Bucky knew what that hug meant. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know.

“You’re going to go back to Y/N, aren’t you?” Bucky asks.

“I am.” Steve says.

Although, Bucky doesn’t want to live in a world where his best friend isn’t in it, he wants him to be happy.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Bucky whispers.

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Steve whispers back.

Steve sighs as he pulls away from the hug. He walked over to the platform, stopping just short of the steps to get on it. He turned around to look at his best friend.

“Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says with a smile.

“How can I? You’re taking all of the stupid with you.” Bucky smiles back. “Give Y/N a hug for me.” He says.

“I will.” He says.

Steve gets on the platform. Bruce counted down before sending him to where the infinity stones needed to be returned to.

“Shouldn’t he be back by now?” Sam asks Bruce.

“He should be.” Bruce looks at the computer. “It looks like he went further than he should’ve.” He says.

“What year did he go to?” Bucky asks curiously.

“1949.” Bruce tells him.

Bucky nods and looks down.

“You ok, man?” Sam asks Bucky, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I will be.” Bucky says softly.

1949

Steve had a smile on his face as he held you close to him. You two were swaying to music in the middle of the living room. You glanced up at your husband with a smile. Steve looks down at you and kisses you softly.

Steve found his way back to you. You and him bought a house, got married, and you two have a baby on the way. This is the happiness and the family life he has been putting off for years.

Your feet started to hurt from swaying so you sat down on the couch. Steve sat down next to you, wrapping one arm around you and put his free hand on your pregnant belly. You laid your head on his shoulder. The music continued to play.

“Are you going to miss being Captain America?” You asked.

“Yes, but I’m sure Sam will be just as good as I was.” Steve says.

Steve gave you a tight hug, making you smile.

“What’s that for?” You asked with a smile.

“That’s from Bucky.” He says.

“Bucky remembers me?” You asked.

“Of course he does. He was the one who introduced us.” He says with a smile.

You smiled at the memory. You were a nurse in the Army when Bucky introduced you to Steve. You were admiring how handsome Steve was -he still is- and Steve was completely speechless.

“I’m happy that he introduced us.” You say.

“Me too.” Steve smiles.

“I miss him.” You say softly, putting your hand on top of Steve’s.

“I do too.” He whispers, kissing the side of your head.

PRESENT DAY

Bucky looked out in the distance, furrowing his eyebrows when he seen someone sitting on a bench and looking out at the water. He immediately knew that person was Steve.

“Sam…” Bucky says.

Sam looks at Bucky and then looked over at the water, seeing Steve. He walked up next to Bucky.

“Go ahead.” He says.

Sam nods and walks over to Steve.

“You decided to go further back after returning the stones, huh?” Sam says, standing next to Steve.

“Yes.” Steve smiles.

Sam seen a wedding ring on Steve’s finger.

“Wanna tell me about her?” He asks.

“I’ll let Bucky tell you.” Steve smiles.

Steve reaches down to unzip the bag his shield is in. He took it out of the bag and handed it to Sam.

“Are you sure?” Sam asks softly.

Steve nods. Sam took it from him and held it up.

“How’s it feel?” Steve asks.

“Like it belongs to someone else.” Sam says, looking at the shield.

Steve reached in his pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Sam.

“Give this to Bucky for me please.” Steve says softly.

“Of course, man.” Sam says softly.

Steve and Sam gave each other a smile before he walked back to Bucky.

“He gave you the shield?” Bucky asks.

“Yes. He also told me to give this to you.” Sam says, handing him the envelope.

Bucky took his hands out of his pockets and took the envelope from Sam. He opened it to see a hand written letter from Steve, along with a family picture of you, Steve, and yours and his daughter Sarah.

Dear Bucky,

As you know, I went back to be with Y/N. I hope you can be happy with the decision I made. Thank you for introducing me to Y/N when we were in the Army. The little girl in the picture is mine and Y/N’s daughter Sarah Jamie Rogers. We gave her the middle name of the man who introduced her parents. I love you, man. I’m going to miss you.

Sincerely, Steve

Bucky teared up while reading the letter. He then looked at the picture, smiling when he seen how happy Steve is now and when he seen you and Sarah in the picture. He’s happy that his best friend got the well deserved family life he’s been looking for all these years.

“Who are those people with Steve in the picture?” Sam asks.

“His wife Y/N and their daughter Sarah Jamie Rogers.” Bucky says.

Sam smiles, happy that Steve got his happy ending.

“Their daughter looks just like him.” Sam says with a smile.

“She does.” Bucky smiles.

1949

“Did you feel that?” You asked when the baby kicked.

“Yes!” Steve says happily.

You looked at your husband with a smile on your face. You leaned up kissing him sweetly.

“I can’t wait for this baby to be born.” He says softly.

“Me too.” You smiled. “I love you, honey.” You murmured, pecking his lips.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He almost whispers.

Steve got the well deserved family he’s been wanting for years. He couldn’t be any more happier.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[delicatebarness]

The Mercenary’s Daughter | Chapter Two

Summary: You face off against your brothers in a test of skill and endurance.

Warning: Physical Violence | Implied Emotional Manipulation | Power Dynamics | Intense Familial Pressure | Stress | Psychological Intensity

Word Count: 796

Support: Ko-FI

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A/N: I spent all yesterday working on Cry Baby playlists, so I wanted to work on these two today. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The Mercenary's Daughter: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged | @soelstress | @that-one-fangirl69

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes | @hzdhtss

The silence of the training room was only broken by the sound of shuffling feet and your controlled breath. Your stance was grounded, focus sharp as you stood in the center. Though you were known as ‘The Child’, the label had never truly captured your strength. And yes, you were silent but your brothers knew better than to underestimate you.

Jack and Johnny, your older brothers pulled themselves up from the mat and began circling you, moving with a cautious energy. A few paces back, your eldest brother, James, stood watching the three of you closely. All the Hansen children were powerful fighters, trained to be precise, fast, and deadly since childhood. But you were different. 

Johnny made the first move, lunging toward you, his hand reaching out. You sidestepped, making his attempt look almost clumsy. With a sharp kick, you clipped his side and sent him back, wincing. 

Immediately after, Jack aimed to catch you off-balance. You anticipated his strike, ducking low and sweeping her leg in a quick arc. His speed was impressive, but his legs buckled and he hit the mat. Rolling to the side, he avoided your next move with a grunt. 

You couldn’t relax. Your head snapping up, sharp as one of your blades, your instinct picked up and caught the movement in your peripheral vision. James. He was closing in, stealth and prevision in his movements that the other brothers couldn’t match.

Narrowing your eyes, you turned just in time to block his arm. Your limbs met in a sharp clash. James was the only brother to give you a true fight. 

His gaze was focused on you, his jaw set under his mask as he tested her defenses. Fast and careful, each strike was calculated. Deflecting his blows one by one, each one of your moves was a reaction to his,

Shifting suddenly, James aimed low. You dodged to the side, throwing him off-balance with a twist but he caught himself– pivoting to meet you again. You moved together in sync, an intricate and unrelenting dance filled with counters and strikes. You met him beat for beat, neither of you could gain the upper hand. 

A silence fell over the room, save for your movements, and the tension grew as you pushed each other. Sweat gathered on your brow as your eyes remained fixed on his shift and feint. 

Johnny and Jack exchange looks, regrouping and circling you again. They attacked in unison with the hope of catching you off guard. But you were fast, and you were ready. Using their momentum again, your body ducked, twisting between their strikes, and within seconds, they were back on the mat. 

As you stood over them, untouched, James attempted a feint to your left. You saw through it, stepping to block him, and your arm hooked around his. In a swift, practiced motion you threw him over your shoulders in one seamless turn. He was sent to the mat with a hard thud between your brothers. 

For a moment, your brothers lay there, catching their breath. You knelt beside them, and moved your hands toward James, signing: Give up yet?

The shared moment was abruptly interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching. The siblings turned as Lloyd Hansen, your father, entered. His icy gaze swept over the training room, and he took in the sight– his undefeated youngest, his daughter, looming over his sons. His expression was as impassive as ever, but you could see the small glimmer of pride in his eyes as they passed over you. 

He gave you a small nod, and you inclined your head in return for his rare acknowledgment. James pushed himself up first, and he didn’t bother responding to the sign but his quick glance at you was enough communication. Johnny and Jack followed suit, only slower, and exchanged a rueful glance to the other as they stood.

“Not good enough,” Lloyd spoke, his tone even though his eyes lingered on James for a moment longer. You straightened as his focus returned to you, the weight of his scrutiny hung heavy, but you met his gaze without a flinch. “Again.” 

Uncertain glances were exchanged between the two younger brothers, and Johnny shifted on his feet– hesitation was clear in his body language. “Now?” he asked, the exhaustion and apprehension in his tone betraying him.

Your father’s gaze snapped to him. “Did I stutter?” 

Johnny swallowed hard. “No, father.” He moved back to his position on the mat, Jack following. James remained still, flicking his gaze toward you for a brief moment before returning to his place. 

You knew what this was. It was a test. Your father watched, measuring every decision you and your body made. Every strike, every dodge.

The second round began without warning.

---

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