#Agents of Grey [Anonymous]

[gadget-detective]

((Tags for the side-blog.))

[levans44]

Apartment #3 - Chapter 6

pairing: steve rogers x undercover!reader

warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff

summary: as an undercover agent at SHIELD, her newest assignment involves moving in across the hall from her target. she's strictly ordered to keep her distance—no personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target neighbor turns out to be Captain America.

author's note: an idea that's been living in my head ever since steve asked sharon for that cup of coffee in their apartment hallway. as a SHIELD agent, the reader's real name has been [REDACTED] to preserve anonymity.

masterlist

taglist: @tsofo26 @yvonneeeee @cass0419 @nekoannie-chan @felicitylemon @nada3000 @rorilisa @observantplum-blog @strepsils123 @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @rorilisa

A loud ding from the timer marks 40 minutes.

She peers into her oven, nervously eyeing her little experiment—the best, fudgiest brownies EVER! as proclaimed by a complete stranger on the internet, but she figured that the thousands of likes and online reviews had to count for something,

She went all out for this particular recipe, fishing for ingredients she’s never even heard of—dutch processed cacao, single origin chocolate, maldon sea salt. Seeing as how she’s never really had luck with baking, she’s not sure why she had chosen such a complex recipe. And just to pack on the pressure, there was a lot riding on these particular brownies. It’s the only reason why, after the second time she knocks over the bag of flour while reaching for the whisk, she doesn’t give up, hastily wiping up the mess through gritted teeth. 

Because despite Fury’s orders to sustain minimal contact with her target, she could never stand to be in debt. 

And during these past few weeks, she’d been indebted to Steve in more ways than one.

With these brownies, she figured they were more or less even. 

One last time, and she could be done for good.

She waits impatiently, fingers drumming on the counter while the bake cools, before cutting up the brownies and draping some aluminum foil on top. She slides the tray off the counter and scoops it into her arms, balancing Steve’s thermos on top.

She slips out of her apartment and makes her way across the hall.

A tentative knock on apartment #4, then once more when no one responds after a little while. 

Must not be home. Great. She’ll just return his thermos some other time and take the brownies to work—it’ll earn her a few much-needed brownie points with her coworkers anyway. 

She’s just about to turn on her heels and head back across the hall, when she hears his door jerk open, revealing Steve in a white tank top and grey sweats. Her eyes falter for a second, a little taken aback by Steve’s unfamiliarly casual attire.

Eyes wide, he smiles, leaning forward with his palm resting on the door frame.

“Jess! Hey,” His brows furrow a little, eyes flitting down to the tray weighing down her arms. 

“Hey, Steve.” She nods, eyes still fixated on how relaxed he seems in his pajamas, before it suddenly sinks in that this might be his rare day off from work. The last thing he’d probably want is her company. 

She’s just about ready to thrust the brownies and thermos in his arms and run off, panic rising in her throat.

“Uhm, I’m just here to—“

“—hey, Steve, that the pizza guy?”

A male voice shouts from inside the apartment.

Shit, he’s got company. So definitely not a good time.

Steve swivels around, calling back to whoever is in his living room “Uh, no, Buck,  it’s my…”

He turns back to her, eyes hesitating with an unreadable emotion.  

“… my neighbor, Jess.” He finishes quietly. 

Though her heart already sinks at the mention of his name, her stomach churns a second time when she hears footsteps approach Steve’s side. And low and behold, there he was—the infamous Winter Soldier and Steve’s best friend. It’s the first time she’s seen Bucky Barnes in person, and he’s just as formidable as Steve at first glance—biceps bulging through a red Henley shirt, metal hand sticking out like a sore thumb under his sleeve, not concealed with the glove SHIELD advises him to wear during public outings. He immediately sticks his hand into the pocket of his jeans, surveying her reaction to see if she’d noticed. She feigns innocence, smiling politely.

Yet, not everything’s true to her memory. 

His hair’s a little shorter than how she’d pictured, and his eyes a little lighter, a strain of hazel running through the cool blue. Any lingering sense of intimidation dissolves when he smiles, casting a sideways glance at Steve then back down at her.

“So this is Jess, huh?” He smirks, leaning forward as he extends his flesh hand in greeting.

“Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

‘So this is Jess.’

That, and the way Steve’s perks up at Bucky’s words, the tips of his ears blooming crimson, could only mean one thing. It’s a glaringly obvious truth that she tries oh-so-hard to avoid. 

Instead, she glances down sheepishly at the tray of brownies in her arms, then back up at Bucky’s extended hand. 

“Oh, hey, let me get that for you.” Steve quickly reaches forward, taking the tray from her arm. She shoots him an appreciative smile before tentatively taking Bucky’s hand, feeling more than overwhelmed by not one but two super soldiers now crowding the doorway. 

Bucky’s grip is more calloused than Steve’s, fingers shorter and thicker. His grip is just as strong and warm, though, and the charming grin he flashes her way leaves her wondering whether he’s just as… forward in meetings with other strangers. The rumor around her office had always painted him as the silent, brooding type. 

“I-I was just gonna return your thermos, and uh…” her voice falters, gaze trailing over to the way Bucky was leaning over the tray still in Steve’s hands, lifting the aluminum foil on top curiously. Bucky looks back down at her, smiling sheepishly. 

“Sorry, these smell amazing. Are they… shit, Steve, they’re brownies.”

“Buck.” Steve mutters, subtly nudging his best friend’s side as he angles the tray away.

“Yeah, I baked ‘em this morning.” She nods, giving Bucky an awkward smile. She tucks her hair behind her ear, shifting her weight between her feet. 

Her gaze trails over to the blonde, who’s giving her that familiar warm smile.

“You didn’t have to Jess, really. Thank you.” 

His gaze is so earnest, voice deep as he thanks her. She can only nod hastily in response, swallowing thickly.

Steve clears his throat, taking another step toward her, and gestures toward the apartment with his head. 

“Do you… do you wanna come in for a bit? Bucky and I were just about to put on a film.” 

And maybe it was the endearing way he still uses the word film instead of movie.

Or the way he seemed so different from his usual put-together look—hair light and soft, standing up in small, unruly peaks as if he hadn’t styled it since he’s woken up. A white sleeveless shirt, clad tightly across his pecs, grey sweats hanging low over his hips. 

Or, maybe, it was just his characteristic way of making an honest offer—warm and earnest, without any pretense of false politeness. 

Whatever the reason, she finds herself nodding, slipping past Bucky as he steps aside to let her inside.

Steve carefully sets the tray on his kitchen island, quietly chastising Bucky when he immediately starts to fiddle with the aluminum, trying to sneak a piece. She shuffles awkwardly around the kitchen island, so that there’s 40 inches of beige linoleum between her and the two super soldiers. She refrains from peering around the rest of the apartment out of politeness. From what appears in her peripheral vision, though, she can tell that the layout of his house is pretty much the same as her own.

“Those are for me, jerk.” Steve mutters quietly, the corner of his lip quirking up in a smile as Bucky’s starts to pull a slice off of the tray. 

“Sharing’s carin’ Stevie.” Bucky mumbles nonchalantly, 

Steve gives in with a joking sigh, leaning against the counter as he looks up at her, brows raised.

“Do you want a piece, Jess?” 

“Oh, no, I’m okay thank—“

“—holy shit.” She’s cut off by Bucky’s loud moan, holding up a corner piece with a large section already bitten off. 

“Fuck, that’s amazing, Steve. You gotta try it.”

Bucky chews as he glances up at her, eyes glinting under the kitchen light. He swallows, licking his lips before asking:

“You a baker, Jess?”

Steve lets out a quiet chuckle, walking around the counter and reaching for a roll of paper towels at the other end. 

“She’s a nurse, Buck.” 

Bucky’s brows raise at that, eyes lighting up with renewed interest as he sinks his teeth in, taking another bite.

“You must like saving people, then, huh? Like Stevie here.” He juts his elbow toward his friend, who rolls his eyes and shoots her an apologetic glance. She tries to stifle a smile, settling down in one of the kitchen bar stools, feeling a little more relaxed as the two Avengers continue to bicker bout how many pieces Bucky’s allowed to steal from Steve’s tray.

“Bucky’s right, though, Jess. This is phenomenal. How long have you been baking?”

The truthful answer would have been 5 hours. Instead, though, she gives him a smile, shrugging innocently as she answers:

“Not long. Started a couple years ago.”

She figured the whole ‘home-baker’ thing tracked with Jess’s character—alongside the whole wide-eyed, girl-next-door look.  

“So what movie are we watching?”

She asks nonchalantly—a clumsy attempt at shifting the conversation away from herself, but it works nonetheless.

Bucky sighs dramatically at the question, while Steve shoots him an amused glance.

“Well…” Bucky starts, picking up another brownie square before walking around the kitchen island toward the living room. 

“… Steve was trying to convince me to watch Star Wars with him.” He sighs nonchalantly, plopping down on the living room couch. 

And she can’t help but let out a surprised snort at that, hand immediately flying over to her mouth to stifle the noise. Mortified, she glances over sheepishly at Steve. 

Leaned forward with both palms on the kitchen counter, Steve looks up at her with a raised brow, a slight twitch in the corner of his lip.

“Sorry, I just… that’s the last movie I would’ve guessed for you.” She murmurs quietly, still stifling a smile.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Steve shoots back almost immediately, his lips breaking open in an amused grin.

“Well, it’s just, you know… kinda nerdy?”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut as he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. 

“That’s fair.”

From across the room, Bucky laughs too, scrolling carelessly through the TV channels as he tosses out a comment in their direction.

“Oh, you thought he was cool, Jess?”

She leans forward in her seat, staring directly into Steve’s eyes as a new sense of adoration blooms in her chest. 

Who would’ve thought that Captain America was secretly a geek?

She shrugs, a small smile tugging on her lips as she mutters:

"I'd like to think so."

And despite the fact that the rest of the night is filled with nothing but trivial moments, she feels the knot in her stomach growing tighter with each second she spends with Steve.

When he patted the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing for her to sit down, the fabric of his sweats brushing against her as he shifted to make room. The scent of soft oak and fresh linen as he occasionally leaned into her side, pointing out nerdy tidbits about the Star Wars franchise, eager to share the comforting alcove of fiction he’d found in the 21st century. 

Or even when the pizza delivery arrived and she finally got a peek at the box, discovering the name of his favorite pizza place. She had glanced over at Steve instinctively, lips stretched in a knowing smile as they exchanged a look completely unbeknownst to Bucky. 

With Steve, her heart beats immeasurably faster at the littlest of things.

And it fills her with more dread than she can bear. 

Apartment #3 Masterlist

note: aaaand after an eternity and a half, she finally makes an update. we've got some more shameless flirting coming up folks, brace yourselves

[rendy-a]

For the event i was thinking in the self aware au that mc would probably get nervous knowing alot of eyes were going to be on them so they would want to get advice on how not to embarrass themselves and who better to go to then our resident fairest queen Vil

I was starting to think all my requests were going to end up being the “ask to dance” variety but then I thankfully started getting some different types, starting with yours!  This is a fun idea as I feel like Self-Aware AU Vil would somehow be personally invested in the publicity of the Player.  He isn’t just a fan; he is the Player’s agent, stylist, and publicist all in one!

The hot sun beat down on you as you sat in a folding chair on the lawns of NRC listening to Crowley give some sort of welcome speech.  At least, you think that was what it was supposed to be.  Crowley’s ramblings had sort of veered off into rubbing his “Goodwill Dance” success into his rival Ambrose’s face.  For at least the past thirty minutes.  It was not only the NRC students, who were long since used to Crowely’s antics, but even the polite Fair Maiden girls and kindly Royal Sword boys who seemed to be at the end of their patience. 

At least you had people watching to amuse you.  The students of NRC were mostly used to you and you to them.  These newcomers offered you a chance to observe some new things.  You enjoyed seeing how the girls of FMA wore their hair and deciding if you could see any of the trends from your own world reflected in this one.  The RSA students were also refreshing to watch.  It had been so long since you’d seen a boy your age hold the door open for someone that you’d gasped out loud when you saw a polite RSA student grab the door for Professor Trein.  Each a delightful change of pace compared to your average NRC student’s behavior. 

You weren’t the only one people watching, though.  Whatever strange interest the students of NRC had in you extended to these newcomers as well.  You’d smile and they’d panic and faint or trip down a flight of stairs.  It was alarming really, so you’d tried to limit your interactions with them outside of events like this one.  For that reason, the number of students in FMA and RSA that could recognize you was limited.  Many of the eager students were having their first opportunity to see you now, but only if they could find you.  They had a searching gaze that swept over the NRC section, and you could practically imagine the whispered conversations that matched the pointing, ‘Do you think it’s that one?  No, maybe this one?’  You smiled to yourself, there were at least a few more days of anonymity before the big dance where you were sure everyone would discover who you were. 

“And finally,” Crowely boomed out, “I’d like to thank our very special guest who is like a child to me.  I am thankful everyday that such an illustrious person as the Play..err, ahem, as Yourself chooses to call Night Raven home.” You crouch down lower in your seat, hoping the various looks you are getting from the NRC students aren’t drawing too much attention; this wasn’t your plan at all.  “In fact, where…Ah!  There you are!  RIGHT THERE!  Second row, I’m pointing right at you!  Yes, YOU!  How very grateful you are to be witness to my boundless generosity in person.  Ah, I am so wonderful.” Well, so much for anonymity.

The assembly ended and, as you had predicted, a wave of RSA and FMA students swept over to gawk at you.  You forced a polite smile on your face and greeted all your unusual fans.  “Wow!  I can’t believe it’s really you!” one boy shouted while gently patting you on the back.  “Yup, it sure is me, I guess?” you reply.  “Oooh!” cooed a long-haired girl, “I have imagined this day for so long and now I finally get to bask in your presence.  You are just so…so…ahhh…” As she trails off you gaze down at yourself and understand.  Your uniform is old enough that it is more grey than black and the treads on the edge of your shirt are unravelling slightly.  Not to mention that you are so perfectly ordinary and not say, a regal dragon prince, or anything.  “Sorry?” you awkwardly reply.

“Oh! NO! I didn’t…I mean…well your…ah…I mean…you look…hmm…” you try to smile politely at all the not-quite-compliments she attempts, “Oh! Yes, you smell wonderful.”  At this the girl heaves a sigh of relief at finding one thing she could positively focus on.  It was a strange compliment though and it left you momentarily puzzled until you remembered putting on some of the scent Vil had gifted you for your birthday.  Of course, you smell good; anything Vil picked out was bound to be top quality.  In fact, that gives you an idea.

The walls of Pomefiore towered over you as you approached the regal dorm based on the Beautiful Queen.  Inside was its own beautiful queen, Vil, and the students he guided.  You were still embarrassed by the happenings of this morning.  Sure, you’d never really tried before to measure up to the mysterious persona you’d been granted in TWST but the way you’d had to stand there as you underwhelmed everyone excited to meet you…well, you didn’t want that repeated.  There was only one thing they had found impressive and that had been due to Vil’s influence, so you reasoned that if you wanted to change their impression of you, this was the place to start.

When you entered the foyer of Pomefiore, you were touched to find a collection of students waiting for you.  They were quick to criticize the FMA and RSA students who had made light of you earlier.  You were sure this wasn’t a healthy way to address the issue, but you still felt happy to hear it.  “I don’t get where she gets off acting like the fashion police in last season’s lipstick.”  This earns the nods of several angry students.  “And that RSA goon?  He was wearing socks with sandals.  SOCKS!  With SANDALS!”  That elicited a gasp from the outraged students over such an offence.  “Come with us, Prefect, and we will give you a makeover until no one can deny the way you shine!”  The crowd gathers around you and starts to usher you into the lounge when a slow clapping is heard from the stairs.

“Je regrette, mes amis,” Rook begins from the landing of the stairs, “but Vil himself is requesting to personally handle this transformation.” There were sighs of bitter disappointment, but no one dared question the will of the Queen of Pomefiore, least of all you.  You followed Rook up the stairs and down several hallways until you reached an elaborately decorated door that, you assumed, would lead to Vil’s room.  “Would that I could follow you and see you emerge from your cocoon in person,” Rook lamented with a dramatic hand placed to his forehead, “but alas, I must remain out here.”  You give him a wide-eyed look, unsure of how to respond to his dramatics.  “Go Trickster, go and become an even more beautiful butterfly!”  Then he flings open the door and practically pushes you inside. 

You carefully crept further into the room; carefully because it was quite dark inside.  Then, with a sudden dramatic flair, the curtains were cast open and your eyes beheld Vil.  The change in light caused you to focus on the only brightest point in the room and that was where Vil stood.  It was if he’d arranged for the sun itself to be his spotlight just to impress you, but you supposed that was just you being dramatic.  Although, when you calmed down enough to really take his expression in, you wondered if that was the intention after all.  He seemed far too pleased with the way you were gazing directly and only at him.

You force yourself to look away and remark, “That was quite an entrance there, Vil.  I almost thought you were onstage.”  He clucks his tongue at you, “Sweet Potato, for those of us in our position, the entire world is a stage.  You’d do well to realize that.”  You smile sadly, “I think I learned that this morning.  You might say my act bombed.”  He approaches you quietly until he stands right before you, “I heard.  All I can say about that is How. Dare. They!”  The final words were spoken with such a hiss of venom that it took you aback.  “Well, I guess I do understand.  I mean, just look at me,” you say as you gesture to your shabby clothing.

“No.” Vil replies simply, “A star is a star, whether they play the Prince or the Pauper.  I feel personally offended that these simpletons were unable to recognize your appeal.”  It was ridiculous enough that it drags a laugh from you, “I keep my appeal hidden inside, deep inside.” Vil is not amused, “Well then, we will need to force it out and put it on display.”  You wipe the smile off your face, “Yes sir!”  He gets an evil smirk on his face, “You can mock now but you better prepare yourself for my training.  When I’m done with you, no one anywhere will be able to look down on you.” 

If you thought Vil was brutal over the boys at the Fairy Gala, it felt like nothing compared to the regimen he prepared for you.  Clothing, manners, dancing, and socializing; all these topics were part of your time with Vil.  He worked your mercilessly up until the day of the dance.  After your final lesson, he presented you with a gift.  “Heels?” you ask unsure, “I don’t know if I’m exactly the heel type.”  Vil gives you a condescending look, “Heels are for everyone, Sweet Potato, and these aren’t just heels.  They are stilettos.  Do you know what a stiletto is?” 

You take the heel from the box and point to the back of the shoe, “Its this part, right?”  He rolls his eyes, “No Potato, I mean a real stiletto.”  You shake your head no.  “A stiletto is a kind of dagger; the sort you’d pierce someone’s heart with.  Just remember that next time anyone dares insult you.  If that happens, use these heels to grind them into dust.”  You decided Vil was less like your Fairy Godmother and more like your Mafia Godfather, but you weren’t complaining.  Watchout RSA and FMA, the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm was about to make an entrance to this dance.  And this time, everyone would know it was all about you. 

[anincompletelist]

HELLO :D

thank you @bigassbowlingballhead @magicandarchery @sunnysideprince for the tags hehehe I have never done this before but I thoroughly enjoyed trying to make sense of the ones you guys posted skdhkjhsf <3

I have..... far too many wips so I won't be doing all of them BUT have some recent ones --

+

well known MI6 agent continues to cross paths with a very beautiful but annoyingly persistent guy who seems to have similar goals but won't quit causing chaos and wrecking his plans long enough to talk about them

2. runaway prince discovers freedom, hair dye, magic, and found family (among other things)

3. infamous underground boxer takes a keen interest in the pretty blonde guy who keeps coming back to watch his fights

4. a/b/o-verse guys defying stereotypes about their classifications (this could apply to several wips, to be fair)

5. one of them just wants to sell books and the other just wants to give people killer tattoos and these two things should not go hand in hand (but of course they do) (eventually)

6. vampire hotel

7. trauma healing through orgasms (so, so many)

8. conversely, trauma healing through reassurance that it's ok if there's a lack of orgasms

9. an anonymous chat room for the world's elite turns out to be not quite as anonymous as alex had been hoping for (who'd have thought earl grey would be the catalyst for so many existential crises???)

10. a prince and a president's son try to find LOVE (separately and then together) on an ISLAND !!!

+

OK BRAIN NOT WORKING WELL TODAY SO THIS IS WHAT WE'RE WORKING WITH SKJHDKSJHD

no pressure tags!: @firenati0n (I beat you to it so I get to tag you HA) @wordsofhoneydew @nocoastposts @kiwiana-writes @eusuntgratie @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @sparklepocalypse and OPEN TAG FOR ANYONE ELSE AS I SAID BRAIN NOT WORKING (it's just the ao3 error message up there fr sorry friends)

xx

[bitter69uk]

In 1964, then-23-year-old starlet Ann-Margret bared her soul to 16 Magazine about her “hates and loves” (or, as they put it at the time: “Here they are - the deep-down, intimate secrets of your favourite new star!”). I think Ann-Margret speaks for all of us here! (Please don’t tell me some publicity agent or anonymous hack cobbled this together – the disillusionment would be overwhelming). Pull up a chair – this is one LONG mutha of list.

She hates for anyone to yell at her. She cried the first time a bandleader loudly chewed her out for being late to a rehearsal.

She hates dresses with lots of ruffles and frills. They make her feel like "... a Christmas tree!"

She hates vegetables - especially cooked spinach.

She hates to cook or anything to do with the kitchen.

She hates people who say nasty things about other people whom they don't even know.

She hates the fact that no matter how she rushes, she has a tendency to be late.

She hates to see too much make-up on a woman.

She hates to see an animal hurt.

She hates people who "...kid around with someone's emotions".

She hates gossip of any sort.

She hates rain.

She hates herself when she fluffs a song or dance, even during a rehearsal.

She hates people who think that show business is all whipped cream and glamour. Ann-Margret says: "It's one of the toughest professions in the world".

She hates it when people call her a star. "Right now, I am just a very fortunate girl", she earnestly maintains. "A star is someone who sustains, like Bette Davis".

She hates for people to try and pry into her personal life.

She hates the thought of sitting still for more than five minutes at a time.

She hates to have to straighten up her room.

She hates reports that she dates just for publicity.

She hates for people to tell her how to run her life.

She hates grey days and grey colours.

She hates people who complain and feel sorry for themselves.

She hates it when there is a mechanical failure in her car or motor scooter.

She hates to be told she ought to act such-and-such a way, because "... it's the thing to do".

She hates herself for being so painfully shy when it comes to meeting new people.

She hates jealousy of any kind.

She hates aggressive girls who brag that they can twist a man round their little finger.

She hates to get up early in the morning.

She hates prejudice in any form.

She hates to diet.

She loves going to football and basketball games.

She loves to ride her motor scooter through the Hollywood hills.

She loves a steak.

She loves to wear dark glasses.

She loves animals of all sorts.

She loves chocolate malts for breakfast.

She loves a windy night.

She loves big, shaggy sweaters.

She loves performing for a live audience.

She loves saving things. She has a huge chest, hand-carved by an uncle in Sweden, in which she stores all her mementoes.

She loves sad movies - even though they make her cry.

She loves the colour black.

She loves to sleep under lots of blankets.

She loves pizza with ginger ale.

She loves browsing through family photo albums.

She loves Cantonese food.

She loves talking on the phone. She has two "Princess" models in her bedroom.

She loves waterskiing.

She loves collecting stuffed animals - the pride of her collection is a huge lavender poodle Eddie Fisher gave her in New York. She took it back to California on the plane - strapped in the seat next to her.

She loves flowers and greenery of any sort.

She loves baked potatoes with sour cream, chives and butter.

She loves to travel - especially back to Sweden for a visit with relatives.

She loves the name Skuby. So far, it's the "handle" for her Yorkshire terrier (also a gift from Eddie Fisher).

She loves her red motor scooter and her red compact convertible car.

She loves window-shopping.

She loves the excitement of Las Vegas.

She loves watching parades.

She loves laughing and seeing others laugh.

She loves working with Elvis Presley.

She loves weddings. Last year she was maid of honour at the nuptials of Sharon Louver of Summit, N.J., and Joanie Stremmel, of Wilmette, Ill., both of whom had been her best friends since the sixth grade. She caught Janie's bouquet!

She loves dancing - especially the Twist.

She loves the new house she bought for herself and her parents in fashionable Benedict Canyon.

She loves the beach - day or night.

She loves Marlon Brando's acting.

She loves little children.

She loves Capri pants.

She loves candlelight dinners.

She loves watching TV.

She loves Sammy Davis, Jr. and Elvis Presley records.

She loves modern furniture.

She loves being alone for a certain part of every day.

She loves her good luck charms - a miniature red horse, ivory Buddha, smooth beach pebble and tiny hula doll named "Jungle Julie".

She loves writing in her diary.

She loves playing a jukebox.

She loves holding deep philosophical conversations.

She loves suede jackets.

She loves riding a bicycle.

She loves to write letters and receive them. Write to her at 8966 Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood, California.

[esthermitchell-author]

A little bit of Crowley dishing out some well-deserved Yuletide demonic mischief...

Crowley waited until Jemmy was ready for bed, and Aziraphale was distracted by their daughter's request for him to read to her from a new book she'd found while exploring the shelves of books -- he swore Aziraphale kept miracling new child-friendly story books onto the shelves right at her eye-level, now that she was fully mobile on her own legs. Then, snagging his winter coat -- he really did hate the cold, and it was freezing out there -- he poked his head in Jemmy's nursery.

"Just popping out for a moment, angel. I won't be long."

He watched Aziraphale's brow furrow in concern before the angel sighed and nodded. "All right. Be careful out there, and don't drive too fast. The roads are a mess."

Crowley chuckled despite his awareness of the somber task he was about. Seldom was the day he popped out for a drive that Aziraphale didn't admonish him to not drive so fast. He usually waved it off and drove as he saw fit unless he had Jemmy with him. Tonight, given what he was up to, he offered his angel a dutiful nod and a promise. "I'll be careful."

Then, so Aziraphale couldn't question what he was up to before it was done, he headed down the stairs and out the front, pulling on his coat and the shades he retrieved from their place on the counter as he went. A snap of his fingers brought the Bentley straight to the curb in front of him, and he sighed in gratitude when he climbed inside to find it had already warmed up.

"Right. Now, to find this alley." Aziraphale said it was just a few blocks away, and since he knew where his angel's last appointment before coming home was, he had a good idea of in which direction the alley would be.

Given he had no idea where he was going, exactly, Crowley inched the Bentley along, sensing its confusion about their slow speed in its questioning cycle between Queen and classical music. He uttered a laugh under his breath, but kept his gaze focused outside, until he found what he thought might be the alleyway. A tailor on one side, and a mobile phone shop on the other, just like Aziraphale said.

Bringing the Bentley to a stop, he climbed out and went to the alleyway's entrance, his gaze scanning the darkened alley.

There! He stalked over to the rubbish bin, miracling himself a step up and turning on his phone's flashlight feature as he stared down into the bin. There, just as Aziraphale said, was the box of kittens. They'd been shifted to the side by a careful hand -- probably his angel's -- at some point, but they were stiff, what wasn't covered in fur now the blue-grey color of death and cold.

Flicking his tongue out quickly, he scented the air. He could make out the scents of fabric, batteries, and death. Below that, he caught notes of a scent he knew better than his own and momentarily smiled. Aziraphale.

Then, just below that, he caught another scent. Older. Almost wiped away. Bending closer, he flicked his tongue out near the edges of the box full of kittens, and caught it again, stronger. A stench like rancid oil, stale urine, cheap beer, and even cheaper cigarettes.

Crowley grimaced. The human responsible for this depravity was the kind Hell chewed up, regurgitated, and then started the whole process over again, on the daily. The kind of human not worth saving, though he was almost certain that his angel would try to save them anyway, if given the chance.

Which was why he hadn't told Aziraphale where he was going. He might not be an active agent of Hell anymore, or even interested in what they were up to, but he took a certain amount of glee in providing Hell with anonymous "gifts" for them to worry about the origin of, from time to time. Just something to keep them too busy to come sniffing around his family. He only ever gave them humans who needed removed from human society for its own good, but which he already knew human law enforcement couldn't touch, for whatever reason.

Like this one.

Drawing in a deep breath, he caught the scent he registered on the air. Leaving the Bentley where it was, he tracked his way along the snow-covered sidewalk, fairly certain whoever that disgusting scent belonged to was close by.

The scent was getting stronger.

He heard music. If one took the liberty of calling that screaming cacophony of garbled voices and ill-played instruments music. He grimaced.

Up ahead, light spilled from what appeared to be a garage, and the scent pouring from the building was nearly overpowering. Under the general din of the music, he could hear voices. Laughter, swearing, and slurs he didn't care at all for.

Lurking closer and closer, he stuck to the shadows as he scoped out the interior of what appeared to be a mechanic's garage. Except... His gaze narrowed as he looked around and realized this was what he'd heard -- on television -- referred to as a "chop shop." A place where illegally obtained vehicles were dismantled for the parts that were then sold off for pure profit.

Crowley grinned to himself. Perhaps he wouldn't need to risk getting Hell involved, this time.

A quiet trilling sound down near his ankles drew his attention, and he looked into the mottled green eyes of a black-and-white cat. She didn't hiss or seem afraid of him in the least. In fact, she let out another quiet mew that seemed to be asking for help and tapped his shin with one paw.

Could this be the mother cat to the kitten back at the bookshop? Could she smell her kittens on him?

Pressing one finger to his lips in a signal for silence he wasn't even sure the cat understood, Crowley crept into the garage, following the sound of voices until he could see the group of men -- all grimy, covered in swastikas and other obnoxious tattoos that declared them to be some form of modern-day Nazis. Crowley's lips curled away from his teeth in a silent snarl. Normally, he preferred to work with temptations. There was an artistic flair in subtly working someone around to doing what he wanted. He liked that.

In this case, however... After what he'd already seen -- and he had no doubt these were the least of their crimes, or sins -- he hadn't the patience for a temptation, and he wanted as little to do with this lot as possible. What he was in the mood for was a good, old-fashioned scaring of the peasants until they wet themselves and ran away screaming. Except, he didn't want this lot getting away, either.

With a snap of his fingers, he simultaneously brought the garage doors down with a shuddering crash and doused the electricity in the building, leaving the shop in utter darkness and complete, eerie silence.

"Wot the fuck?" The biggest of the guys was on his feet in an instant, and Crowley could scent the rise in his fear, even as the arsehole postured like he was capable of anything even resembling courage.

"Forget to pay the bill, mate?" One of the others tried to joke, but the weak thread of fear in his voice brought the whole attempt down.

Crowley released a reverberating hiss, letting it bounce off all the metallic items in the garage, like a host of snakes -- or worse -- might be descending on them at any moment.

The men drew together warily, tightening their numbers into a clump of bodies with very little space between them, as some of the quicker-witted ones reached for whatever they could grab hold of as weapons.

Crowley let his cackle of glee follow the path of his hiss, letting himself enjoy returning the actions of these bastards with interest. If there was one thing he despised above all else in this world, it was those who harmed the innocent for profit or amusement. It was one of Hell's favorite pastimes he'd never been able to stomach, and one of Heaven's most obvious cruelties he'd loathed. Watching humans do it to one another, or to other innocent creatures, disgusted him. He despised bullies. But what really ignited a fury in Crowley, demanding action, was the memory of his angel's distress, and the tears in their daughter's eyes. No one had the right to harm them, in any way.

He wouldn't stand for it.

As a final touch, he ricocheted lightning through the room, controlling it so it never touched the humans, but so it lit every reflective surface with his most demonic, serpentine face.

Screams filled his ears as he flicked his thumb over the screen of his phone, lighting it up and pressing the buttons to dial 999, then crouched to scoop up the cat purring around his ankles as he made his way back out of the garage through the side door, while he spoke to the operator. "I'd like to report a crime. You see, I think I've found a garage that's been stealing and... repurposing cars. The address? Why, yes, I do..."

He glanced up at the building number and started rattling off information as he headed back toward his Bentley.

As he finished up his call, telling the operator that, no, he didn't want to leave a name or number he could be reached at, Crowley powered down his phone and tucked it back into his coat pocket. He would leave the human police to deal with the blathering, terrified lot of idiots he left behind him.

"You and I, my furry friend," he remarked to the purring cat, curled contentedly in the crook of his other arm, "have families to get home to. Can't do much about most of your babies, I'm afraid, but there's still one that needs you."

As for his own family, he was fairly certain showing up with the mother cat in tow would go a long way toward removing any irritation his beloved angel might harbor when told what Crowley was up to so late on Christmas Eve.  

[hitmanexchange]

The creators are revealed, and here's a list of all works published as part of this fandom event! ❄️

Teen & Up

47 finds himself in a tourist trap after his latest contract.

General Audiences

Lucas Grey takes some time to relax before returning to work.

Teen & Up

An overworked 47 comes home to Diana just in time for the holidays.

Teen & Up

After 47 had decided he could no longer stay with Father Vittorio at the church and try to atone for his actions, he went off the grid without direction in his life, until an anonymous message from someone very close to him directs him to a known place, somewhere he knew many people would be... but why?

Teen & Up

It's the first Christmas in Agent 47's new safehouse, and Diana Burnwood is his guest of honour.

Teen & Up

47 finishes off the Franchise and finds Diana nearby, waiting for him.

Teen & Up

47 finds himself in a tourist trap after his latest contract.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

What should I write next?

400 followers celebration

When I picked up writing again 4 months ago, I never would have dreamed that anyone would want to read my work. My readers, who interact with my writing in any shape or form - you mean the world to me, THANK YOU.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the talent for taking prompts and requests. But with Consent coming to an end, I thought it would be fun if you guys could let me know which of my Pedro boy fic ideas you’d like to read next! (You guys know how slowly I write lmao, so I'm planning ahead to make sure I get in the right head space for my next project.)

Leave a comment or reblog on this post for your vote (or votes)! If you want to do this anonymously, you can send me an ask as well. 

Here are the contenders, in no particular order:

1. Try Me

Javier Pena x Centra Spike analyst! fem!Reader | mini-series | humour, light-hearted yearning with angsty themes | set in Season 2 of Narcos

Summary: With Colonel Pinzon sidelining the Americans in the hunt for Escobar, it just means more time for inter-agency intoxication, tomfoolery, and making bets you probably won’t win with a certain DEA agent.

I posted a sneak peek a while ago of a drabble idea I had within the Try Me universe, if you want to get an idea of the tone of the story.

2. Under Three Suns

Javi Gutierrez x fem!Reader | mini-series | unashamedly self-indulgent summer romance | inspired by Under The Tuscan Sun

Summary: Your beloved grandmother leaves you a rundown cottage and neglected olive groves in Mallorca after her passing. Her only condition of your inheritance? That you never sell the land to her neighbour, who you discover has a penchant for colourful shirts and Nicolas Cage.

3. Grays

Frankie Morales x colourist! fem!Reader | one-shot | Frankie deserves validation and self-love

Summary: I’m just going leave what I screeched at LJ @prolix-yuy while I was getting my haircut a couple of months ago -

Me: I’ve never really wanted to write for Frankie before. But I’m at the hairdresser’s and I suddenly got the idea that Frankie came into Reader’s salon to get his greys dyed cos he’s going to his cousin’s wedding or something, and she’s like HELL NO I will do no such thing

LJ: And he’s all bummed out looking in the mirror but once she’s like “I’ll give you a fantastic cut and style but you better not cover up the silver fox you got going on,” he’s suddenly looking at himself like damn, I do look kinda good 🤤

4. Palomino

Jack Daniels x fem!Reader | one-shot/mini-series (TBD) | super self-indulgent horsey romance (my wildest fantasy)

Summary: Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you'd booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need.

[audiofictionuk]

New Fiction Podcasts - 11th April 2/2

Natural Six Audio RPG Welcome to the Dungeons & Dragons actual play adventures in Reliquiae! https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240402-01 RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/natural-six

Out of reach Audio Drama After 3 months in space, Mark and his team lose comms with ground control. The audio diary entry gives us an insight to what happened up there. All 9 astronauts on the ISS V2 for 20 years. Their lives unfold watching the whole world be buried under violence. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240330-03 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f43a6e30/podcast/rss

Crisis Level: Green Audio RPG A group of federal agents learn that the world isn't quite as black and white as they thought it was. There are definitely some shades of green as well. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240403-01 RSS: https://feeds.captivate.fm/crisislevelgreen/

Pulp Panic - A Fiasco Anthology Audio RPG Pulp Panic is a Fiasco actual play podcast, an Anthology of deception, debauchery, and desperation. Pulp Panic is not for the faint of heart and any content warnings can be found in our description. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240403-02 RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/pulp-panic

The Escapades of Action Jones Audio Drama Welcome to "The Escapades of Action Jones", an uproarious scripted comedy podcast that takes you on a hilarious journey back to a time when Dick always meant Richard and nickels only cost 5 </em>cents! Join our intrepid duo, world-renowned private dick, Action Jones (voiced by Scott Norman) and his trusty sidekick,  Junior Detective Tommy (voiced by Mason Heidger), as they embark on daring escapades across the globe. In this thrilling first series of "The Escapades of Action Jones", the titular private dick Action Jones is hired by ex-lover (and constant thorn in his side) The Dame in the Purple Skirt, to track down her sister who went missing on a trip to Italy. This leads Action and his Junior Detective Tommy down a wet path of murder, mystery, and high-octane gondola chases in search of the mysterious gondola guru himself...  the villainous Donald Golario aka Dash Backslash. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240405-01 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f3cc7c18/podcast/rss

Rise and Fall of Gods Audio RPG A Quest actual play following Philomena and Foster as they get called on an unexpected adventure that will show them more truths than they expected, fighting for the future of their home alongside some friends they pick up on their long journey. The world was once nearly destroyed by a war between the gods. Thousands of years later, the world has been reclaimed by the people who survived with the help of the few gods who remain. Now darkness threatens the land, and history is on the verge of repeating itself. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240405-02 RSS: https://feeds.redcircle.com/8a7a7e06-5630-4142-8b46-dc4c60eadeea

Bring to Heel Audio Drama Bring to Heel is an audio drama that explores the shifting nature of morality and how justification is often dictated by perspective. BtH on morally grey characters in a world where there is no definite right and wrong. Our scene is set in Scrinn, the fantasy setting of a world where gods and magic have long since abandoned the once mystical lands. Scrinn is both a god and the world itself, an entity that extends to embody everything it has spawned. The empress oversees her ever-shifting plot through the empire of Seviscia, and she claims the throne once held by those magicks. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240113-02 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f0a80c8c/podcast/rss

Anonymous Lover Audio Drama In the trenches of the culture war, two aspiring podcasters from Southern California explore the intersection of Q-Anon and yacht rock, where they become immersed in a dangerous quest to find an elusive pop singer. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240401-02 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2335684.rss

Roses Audio Book Steve Buchanan was a private investigator. His life changed one night three years ago, throwing him into an unknown, dangerous world. Now he is telling his story.

https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240317-01 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f38a1094/podcast/rss

The Pact and Boon: A D&D 5e Actual Play Show Audio RPG A D&D 5e Actual Play Podcast set in the high fantasy world of Calignos. A world where the Gods play with the lives of mortals and magic abounds. The story begins with our heroes being prisoners in Hell. Join Dungeon Master Jake Packham from The Dungeon Mastermind Podcast and players Justin Lewis, Tanner Weyland and Cayden Ottley from the podcast How to Be a Better DM as they explore the various pacts and boons in the world of Calignos. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240404-01 RSS: https://feeds.captivate.fm/pact-and-boon/

Eva Luna Audio Drama Eva (Blanca Soto) es una bella mujer de fuerte carácter que trabaja en las plantaciones de manzanas del Sur de California, sin embargo su padre Ismael (Eduardo Ibarrola); quien trabaja junto a ella se entera que tiene una enfermedad terminal por lo que decide viajar a los Ángeles a visitar a la madre de Eva y de su hija menor Alicia (Sofía Lama) para que cuando el falte se haga cargo de sus hijas. Días antes de su viaje, su tía Matilde (Sonia Noemí) ve en las cartas que a su sobrina la espera un futuro oscuro, un hombre que la hará conocer “el cielo y el infierno”. Ese hombre se llama Daniel Villanueva (Guy Ecker), y es el viudo más cotizado de Los Ángeles. Exitoso en los negocios y en el amor, las mujeres enloquecen por él. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240402-03 RSS: https://feeds.simplecast.com/SMiHJLgz

Safe Society Audio Drama An 11-part tale of mass psychosis in an all-too-familiar world. In this satire/psycho-thriller/horror, an influential woke entrepreneur develops an irrational OCD, making him easily manipulated to absurd and terrifying policy extremes by a fearmongering lobbying organization. Will he wake up before it's too late? https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240404-02 RSS: https://feeds.redcircle.com/042f954c-4c6f-481a-875b-35ae36c1e580

The Heartless Knaves Audio Book The Heartless Knaves is a new dark fantasy audiobook podcast featuring clever heists, gory scraps, sad bits, saucy bits, murderous nuns, talking donkeys, and an 8-year-old boy king who won’t take no for an answer. Set in a twisted version of the English Renaissance, the story hinges on the macabre adventures of assassins Silkin and Rooks, who may be dead, their hearts stolen by the church, their severed heads mounted on the royal battlements, but there’s no rest for the wicked... Blending black humour and squishy violence with a whip-smart plot and a cast of loveable rogues, the first book, The Pale Princess, is a bit like a haunted roller coaster: fundamentally unsafe, shuddering in the wind, and threatening to come off the rails as it gathers pace. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240407-01 RSS: https://feeds.acast.com/public/shows/the-heartless-knaves

Booker & Olivia Audio Drama Two idealistic young college graduates journey to the Deep South and work together to  found one of the legendary HBCUs. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240406-01 RSS: https://feeds.buzzsprout.com/2346545.rss

Outbroken Anthology | Zombie Stories Audio Book From the outbreak's genesis to fifty years in, Outbroken covers it all. Each episode sets you in the middle of someone's life in the reality of the zombie apocalypse. From heart wrenching to heart warming, see what it's like to live it for real. https://audiofiction.co.uk/show.php?id=20240330-04 RSS: https://anchor.fm/s/f4365624/podcast/rss

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Mickey Mouse HCs for the Chip and Dale Universe

Cause I have a few

Full actual name Michael Elias Mouse

Stands at 2 feet 5 in,

High Pitched voice is just for the Public like Chip and Dales, his normal voice sounds like a mix of Walt Disney and Ub Iwerks.

Is married to Minnie since 1973, the company again is the reason they're still depicted as gf/bf.

Power fricking couple, when the two are on the same page there's not really any way to stop these two Minnie is just as whip smart as Mickey.

Wears a suit that looks like the Grey one Walt in his later years wore,

He's like Walt in multiple ways, many dub him the toon son of the man, in their world Disney isn't as bad because Mickeys keeping them in check wherever he can,

He refuses to be paid like a Co owner of the Disney company.

If they try to give him the money, he gives it to other Family Charity causes like The Ronald McDonald House.

He also works with one of Oswalds kids, who is a travel agent, handing over exclusive discounts and donating to a fund to take families to the various Disney properties that may otherwise have not been able to. As he puts it

"Less money going into those greedy humans hands,"

All this is done anonymously, nobody ever knows it's him as he does it out of kindness and wanting to carrying on Walts Legacy of Disney being about Families,

People think he'd be this larger than life figure, but he's actually quite humble and gentle, he can be firm though when needed he's one that you don't under assume.

He smokes, yes I dare but he only does so when stressed. This came from Walts Era,

Is actually great friends with Bugs and Daffy of the Looney Tunes despite what people say,

After a marital spat due to issues with burnout and miscommunication in 2023 in which they reconciled, Mickey and Minnie do have a couple of kids like Gadget and Zip, they though keep the children out of the spotlight. If their children wish to join them in the Disney legacy, they can when they are old enough to make that decision.

[fiiregaze]

closed for hanbin & reiko ! @forunholy where : main area of the gala !

there were far more than reiko expected in attendance at the gala. eos have existed for a while now, though her status as one had occurred only three years prior. but to see so many gathered together in one place, cerberus agents and civilian alike, it's quite a lot for her to take in as she winds her way around the main room. reiko's eyes scan around her, tuning in and out the small talk of the pairs and groups that have congregated together but she recognizes no one really, not that it's much easier with masks on their faces. did the anonymity of it all makes things safer or more dangerous, she wondered.

only does her scanning stop when a figure sticks out to her. the suit he wears isn't much different than his normal attire, nor is that familiar scowl bordering on brooding that graces the lower half of his face. there is a familiarity in the line of his body that reiko has only begun to recognize as of late with their ... time spent together. she takes a moment or two, is she admiring his from a far she can't truly say but she looks all the same at him for a few beats more before crossing the room.

" if you were hoping i'd show up in scrubs, then you'll be sorely disappointed. " reiko's tone is teasing as she speaks to gather his attention, stepping close but far enough away so that he is view of her is not obstructed in any way. " i'm afraid the usual grey and occasional blood stains wouldn't fit the dress code. "

[levans44]

requests are currently open. feel free to use any of these prompts or ur own!

Apartment #3 pairing: steve rogers x undercover!reader warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff summary: as an undercover agent at SHIELD, her newest assignment involves moving in across the hall from her target. she's strictly ordered to keep her distance—no personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target neighbor turns out to be Captain America. excerpt: Jessica Grace Parker December 4th, 1989 569 Leaman Place Apt. #3, Brooklyn, NY 11201 Registered Nurse NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital It’s the undercover alias she’s been assigned as a member of SHIELD’s Special Operations unit. The mission objective was rather simple—monitor the target and report updates as necessary. She’s gone undercover more than a dozen times, so it’s not the details of the assignment or the temporary relocation she’s concerned about. It’s just that her target was well… more unusual than most. author's note: an idea that's been living in my head ever since steve asked sharon for that cup of coffee in their apartment hallway. as a SHIELD agent, the reader's real name has been [REDACTED] to preserve anonymity. masterlist

(cap)puccino, w/ milk and sugar pairing: steve rogers x reader warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort summary: running a tiny bakery cafe offers little surprise to a creature of habit like her. …that is, until Captain America asks her for a coffee recommendation. aka the Steve Rogers coffee shop AU no one asked for word count: 8,862 (complete) masterlist

Damage Control pairing: steve rogers x SHIELD agent!reader warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff, mentions of violence, accidents, family member death summary: Working under SHIELD’s Damage Control division, she was used to handling shitty situations: wrecked buildings, stranded helicarriers, and alien hostages, to name a few. But a one-night stand with Captain America? Definitely not one of ‘em. word count: 49,821 (in progress) masterlist

Steve Rogers: One-shots

Strawberries & Cream pairing: steve rogers x reader warnings: 18+ SMUT, oral sex, deepthroat, light temperature and food play, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of fluff word count: 3,092 (one-shot) summary: steve finds you seeking late-night solace in a tub of strawberry ice cream. you decide you want to indulge yourself in more ways than one that night. excerpt: “Good, right?” She asks, trying to chase the stray thoughts away. But then again, she’s only human. Bright, curious eyes flit back down to his lips, zeroing in on the way his tongue licks the corner of his mouth, biceps flexing as he leans back on the couch with a satisfied smile. A deep chuckle that only fuels her fire as he nods, joyously clueless. “Yeah, it’s good.” “You want a spoon?” She mumbles into the pint, absent-mindedly carving out another scoop. And then, a quiet remark that makes the frozen tub of ice cream suddenly grow red hot in her palm: “No, I’d rather share that one with you.” author's note: inspired by what i think is the one good scene to come out of the fifty shades of grey trilogy, aka the ice cream scene in fifty shades freed. link

Other

Headcanons (*denotes smut)

Soft Spooky (Chris Evans Characters)

Steve+Andy+Frank+Ransom

Tipsy, Smutty (Chris Evans Characters)

Pt. 1: Steve+Frank*

Pt. 2: Ransom*

[punemy-spotted]

A Sleepover in the Valley: Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who joined me in the Valley for this fun little sleepover counting down to my birthday!! As promised, here is a masterlist of all the stories spun out of the celebration. It has been a delight writing for you these past few weeks and expanding the Holler!

I do have a couple more requests to finish up, so this masterlist will be updated in the future — look out for those!

event announcement || valley masterlist || main masterlist

Part 1: Seven Sentence Somedays

Lips touched lips and through them touched blood

Pastor Steve Rogers x You, requested by @brandycranby

Blood flows to the heart eventually

Sergeant Bucky Barnes x You, requested by Anonymous

Paying the toll

Federal Agent Ari Levinson x You, requested by @caffiend-queen

Part 2: Hainted Headcanons

Cave-in and crushed bodies

What is Sergeant Barnes really, requested by @aluraborealis

The Grey Man Pt. 1: Smoke and Mirrors

Lloyd Hansen was never a good man, requested by @brandycranby

Poisoned Land and Broken Promises

What Snowpiercer lost, Curtis did too, requested by @brandycranby

The warden who wasn't

Baron of the Crossroads, keeper of the keys, requested by Anonymous

The Grey Man Pt. 2: Toe the Line

Progress has a price, and Lloyd is happy to make you pay, requested by @undutchable11

[notawizardblep]

A couple of TF2 Spy headcannons I’m writing down before I forget:

-I often see Spy depicted with black hair that has been greyed in the front. Honestly I think it would be cool if his hair was similar to Scout’s hair with white/greyed hairs. I just think it would be kinda cute if they looked more like each other. This would also add more danger to the security risk of Spy’s identity. Not only would removing the mask for any reason give a face to the agent, but it would be easier to figure out their relation.

-Spy’s outfit covers most of himself which makes sense as an anonymous agent, but what if there was a little more to it? Spy wears gloves to prevent any trace of fingerprints, but I don’t perceive him having “dainty” hands either (although he presents himself as refined and fancy). He’s probably gotten into knife fights before, and those can REALLY mess you up. With his line of work, there is a chance he has been captured by adversaries before and tortured for information. I imagine that he had a number of scars even before he was part of Team Fortress. It’s a lot easier to hide your identity when you are covered head to toe, and there’s a greater reason to hide if you’d stick out more compared to the average person.

[munsons-hellfire]

Forbidden | Everett Ross

SUMMARY: You are Wanda's little sister, you take an interest in Everett Ross when he visits Stark Tower to convince the Avengers to sign the Accords. You develop a crush on Agent Ross and a hurt when he ignores you. Eventually he realizes that he misses you and decides to give it a shot. But you'll have to prove to your sister that the relationship is everything to you.

PAIRINGS: Everett Ross x Reader

REQUESTED BY: Anonymous (through Wattpad on Eye Of The Flames)

CONTENT WARNING: SFW, Fem!Reader, She/Her pronouns, angst, fluff

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you enjoy this. This is cross-posted from Wattpad onto here. More one shots to come!

WORD COUNT: 3.0K Words

You walked with Wanda, your older sister. The two of you were walking through Stark Tower as Tony had called you all for a meeting. You weren't quite sure why the meeting had even been called in the first place. It shouldn't have been to go over a mission as there weren't any new ones yet. So you were just a tad curious about this meeting and what was going to be discussed. Upon arriving into the room you noticed a man standing near Tony. He was someone you had never seen before in the Tower, so you were curious as to who the man was.

His hair was mostly grey, but that was something you didn't mind so much. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, something you had taken notice of quickly. You couldn't help the smirk that washed onto your lips as you continued to stare at Everett Ross. But your staring was cut short when the rest of the team had arrived into the room you had been sitting in. Tony walked to the front, his eyes scanning everyone in the room.

"Thank you all for coming, this is Agent Everett Ross. He is here to discuss something with us." Tony explained to the team. He moved to the side sitting down near Natasha while Everett Ross walked to the front of the room. Now that you knew his name your interest in him had spiked slightly.

"Hello, thank you Mr. Stark for calling everyone here." Ross spoke, briefly looking over at Tony.

"No problem." Tony mumbled.

It was clear to you that Tony would rather be anywhere but here. And honestly you had to agree with him. However the only reason you were staying for the most part was because she wanted to truly see for yourself what Everett Ross had to say to everyone. The man stood at the center of the room, all eyes were on him. He wasn't nervous so much, having to talk in front of people had become a regular part of his job. But the second he looked at you, something shifted and it was almost enough to make him nervous.

"Good afternoon everyone. I'm here on behalf of the United Nations to discuss legal documents known as the Accords." Ross began to explain as he placed his hand down on the document and slid it towards Steve Rogers who was closest to him.

You started to wonder why all of a sudden something like this was coming about, had they done something wrong as the Avengers? You knew what had happened in Sokovia, but you weren't familiar with much else. And as for the mission you and the others had been on, nothing damaging had happened, so what was the need. You leaned forward in your chair looking at the documents as Steve opened it to at least read the first few pages if that.

"What is this about?" You asked, your eyes landing back on Ross who in turn looked at you. It was clear that he had been expecting that question but he didn't expect it to be asked by you.

Ross released a puff of air, briefly looking back at Tony who was staring at his team. "The United Nations would like to have better supervision over your team, they would like to decide the places where you go and make sure that there isn't much damage to follow."

You seemed to wince at the words that fell from his mouth. Did the people really not trust any of you enough to protect them? Just because you had powers didn't mean that you were willing to hand everything over and let them dictate where you would go. And you knew that most of the team seemed to feel the same about it. Tony stands up from his chair and walks towards Ross patting his back.

"Great. Thanks for stopping by, we'll look it over and discuss everything." Tony paused, and the called out your name. You gave the man your full attention, pulling your eyes away from the documents. "Will you escort Ross out?" Tony questioned you.

"Sure." Ross looked at you as your response left your lips. You stand up from your chair, briefly squeezing your sister's shoulder before walking towards the glass doors. "You coming or not Agent Ross?" You questioned.

He shook his hand with Tony and walked around, however he turned back around to look at them. "I personally don't think it's worth it to sign these, but just know that I'll be coming back to check in every once in a while regardless of if you sign the papers."

You opened the glass door and held onto it as Ross passed you by. Eventually you followed behind him leading him to the elevator that would take you down to the bottom of Stark Tower where Ross' car had been waiting for him. Once the two of you made it into the elevator you pressed the lobby button. The first few seconds seemed to be as quiet as it could be, and you didn't like that.

"Do you like your job, Agent Ross?" You questioned, breaking the silence that had been evident in the elevator. He turned his head slightly to look at you but you weren't keeping any eye contact with him whatsoever.

"It varies from time to time, but I don't think I would trade it for anything." Ross' answer seemed to be honest as far as you could tell. "What about you? Do you like being a hero?"

The question had thrown you off, it was something you had never been asked before. You had kind of been forced into this life of being a hero. Your older siblings had picked the wrong side, one you didn't want to be a part of and you were still trying to make amends with what had happened. You were still trying to figure out how to move on without Pietro with you and Wanda.

Sure you loved your powers and you loved that you had found people who understood you and helped you to be better than you were, but if you could've chosen something different you most likely would've. But that being said, you liked being able to save those from threats who wanted nothing but chaos and destruction.

"I think I'm still trying to figure myself out, I followed behind Wanda and Pietro because they were the only family I had left. And while I regret my actions from the past I don't regret how I got here and the fact that I can help save people who can't protect themselves, even if they might see me as a monster."

Your answer was the most honest it had been, and Ross was the first person you had truly shared that with. Your sister didn't know the extent of the things that you battled considering that she had still by learning to move on without Pietro. Your words continued to fly around Ross' head as the elevator doors opened. He stepped out and you held the doors open so they wouldn't close.

"Not everyone will see you as a monster, you have to believe that." Ross' voice was soft as he spoke those words.

"I know, but some will and I can't change their mind no matter what I try to do to convince them otherwise." You paused, looking at the floor for only a brief moment before your eyes found their way back to Ross. "I should get back to voice my opinion about the documents even though I'm sure they know where I stand."

"Have a good day." Ross sends you a nod and you. pressed the up button. You were left alone with your thoughts, but the one thing that kept running through your mind was Ross. The way he looked, the way he talked, the way he stood, the grey hair, all of it was something you liked and you couldn't help the crush that was starting to form.

When the elevator dinged, you exited out and walked back to the room where everyone was still sitting, but now they were discussing what Ross had left them. You didn't need to read any of the documents, your mind was already made up. You also knew where your sister would stand and you had a feeling that the others were feeling the same way.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

In the following weeks since Tony and Steve had turned down the documents, not agreeing to sign them but agreeing to different terms instead. Ross had come back a few days later to talk to everyone, get to know them, see what everyone was like. You had enjoyed the time you had been spending with Ross even if you weren't sure how it would end. Whenever he would arrive there you were always right there to greet him.

Ross didn't understand it, he didn't understand why you were always trying to talk to him. Your crush was becoming stronger the more he showed up and the more you tried to spend time with him. Currently it had been a few days since Ross had stopped at Stark Tower to see everyone, he was currently looking for you. Ross had been trying his hardest to avoid you, to stop thinking about you and how clingy you had gotten to him.

No matter what he did you would not leave his mind, even when he wouldn't stop by Stark Tower. You were currently in the pool room swimming laps. Compared to where you had been a year ago things were looking up for you including getting better at swimming. It became a side hobby for you when you needed to clear your mind of thoughts. It worked because you had to focus on swimming rather than what truly plagued your mind.

When you made it to the one end of the pull you pushed off the wall and swam further underneath the water. You stayed under, until you eventually came to the center of the pool. From there you swam to the bottom of the pool and stayed there the best you could. Ross had pulled the door open as that's where he had been told you would most likely be. When you opened your eyes you looked through the water to see a blur of a figure.

Adjusting yourself in the water you pushed off the ground level of the pull towards the surface. When your head popped up from the water there stood Everett Ross, the man of the hour who had been avoiding you for the last several days. He had his hands crossed on his chest as he continued to stare down. You lifted your hands moving them through your wet locks. Then you moved over to the ladder climbing up it and walking over to the table.

"If you're just going to avoid me some more I don't want to hear whatever is going to come out of your mouth." You snapped, though it wasn't in much of an angry tone, rather an annoyed tone. Something Ross had picked up as he turned back around to look at you. He watched from the edge of the pool as you eventually grabbed your water bottle and took a gulp of it.

"I'm not here to avoid you," his voice was soft, probably the softest it had been since you had meant him all those weeks ago.

"Then why are you here, if you don't want to avoid me?" You moved over to the edge of the pool and sat down, throwing your legs back in it. If you needed to make an escape from the conversation you were going to do it by jumping into the pool. Everett took his shoes off and rolled his pants off and then sat down next to you. Your eyes are on him watching the way he holds himself together.

"I wanted to apologize for the way I've been treating you. You don't deserve that, especially from me." You were swooning by the apology, but only on the inside, on the outside you still looked as stern as ever.

"You're right, I don't. But here we are." You regretted saying that after it left your lips. You could see the somewhat hurt expression on Everett's face but he quickly replaced it with a hopeful one.

"I took some time to think about what I wanted, and what I needed and I thought I needed to be away from you. I thought we'd both be better if I put the distance between us. But I can't lie about the things that I feel for you. We've only known each other for weeks, and I guess in a way I'm scared. My last relationship wasn't the greatest and I really don't want to mess anything up with you because I do like you."

"What exactly are you saying then, other than the fact that you like me?" Your stern look had been replaced with a soft one. You needed to hear the words come from his mouth.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to start dating. I have a few date ideas that I think you'll like. I know that I want this and I know you do too." He was right, you did want it. You wanted so badly to be in a relationship with him.

"Okay. But you have to do something for me first." There was a mischievous look on your face as you continued to stare at Everett. He could read the look on your face but didn't know what you had in store for him.

"What is it?" Everett questioned you.

You leaned forward lifting your hands, and with all your strength you pushed him into the pool. He was submerged into the water, clothes becoming wet when they came in contact with the water. You couldn't help but laugh, eventually you jumped in after him and swam over to him wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Thank you." You whispered, as you placed your head on his chest. Everett leaned down and placed a kiss on top of your wet hair, you could feel the smile that was on his lips as he held onto you.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

You and Everett had been keeping your relationship a secret mostly because you didn't know how Wanda would react if you were dating someone, let alone someone who was half your age. But he made you happy and you made him happy. In the months since you had started dating Everett, he was over at Stark Tower a lot more. And the team was starting to pick up on it including Wanda. Currently you were in your room, Everett was holding onto your sleeping form.

A movie was on but it had long been forgotten, you had your legs entwined with Everett and your arm wrapped around his torso, while your head rested on his chest. He had his arms wrapped around you so he could hold you close to him. Everything was perfect and exactly where you needed it to be. Where you had always wanted to be. You felt safe and sound in the arms of the man you loved.

The door to your room started to open, and panic consumed Everett as he shook you awake. You groaned, not wanting to wake up from your sleep.

"I think your sister's coming into your room." Everett's words ran through your ears and it caused your eyes to pop open. But it was already too late for the both of you. The door was wide open and you could see the pure shock and confusion resting on Wanda's face. Eventually it was replaced with angry which wasn't a good sign.

"Wanda, I can explain. Please, let me explain." You climbed out of your bed trying to hold your sister back.

"What are you doing here? She's my little sister!" Wanda's words ran through your ears, she pushed you off herself and tried to get over to Ross who had now climbed out of the bed.

"Wanda, please stop. Let's talk about this." You tried to grab a hold of your sister while Everett talked to her.

"Wanda, please." You cried out, your voice cracking slightly. She looked back at you, hearing the sound in your voice. She had only heard it a handful of times so hearing it now was throwing her completely off.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wanda asks as she walks over to you.

"Because I knew you would react this way. You and Pietro have always been so protective over me, and I get it but I can handle myself too you know." You felt like you were going to break down and cry, but you were standing your ground in front of your sister. You needed to do that much.

"I'm sorry. You're the only family I have left."

"I know that, but I promise you that Everett isn't going to hurt me. He's the first one to understand me other than you." You were staring at your sister as she looked at you and then at Ross who was waiting to move over to you and comfort you. Wanda sighed heavily, nodding her head to Ross. He took that as a sign and quickly made his way over to you wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"I mean this when I say it Wanda, I don't ever plan to hurt your sister. I love her, and I would never betray that love for anything."

His words rocked you to the core, Everett Ross had just admitted to loving you. The smile that fell onto your lips was enough conformation to Wanda that you felt the same way. She could see it in your eyes as well. The way that lit up, and now that she thought about it there had been a change in you since the first time you had met Everett.

"Okay, but if you hurt my sister's feelings in any way shape or form, I'm coming for you Ross."

"Understood, but I don't plan to." You smiled and turned towards Everett, placing your lips on him and kissing him softly.

[divinegrey]

gentle bullying / cypher w/ gn!reader

love me some cypher <3 this is a platonic prompt that my friend wanted me to do, hope this is good !

prompt: Hey Grey! May I humbly request bullying Chamber from his clothes to his ugly hair and every little thing with our dearest boy Cypher? (Platonic I'm gay af) [requested by my most sincerely annoying bestie]

words: 900

warnings: absolutely slam dunking on chamber (deserved)

“Like, c’mon, are you serious? He’s wearing sketchers,” you say, wrapping your hand around the warm cup of freshly brewed coffee. You’d make a cup for Cypher too, but frankly, you’ve never seen the bottom half of his face, nor does he ever intend to show it to you, despite how buddy-buddy you are with him.

That is, however, beside the point.

“Who wears velcro on a mission?” You say, gesturing your hands into the air. “No, not even that! Why would you wear a silk vest, a tie, and a button down? To a goddamn gunfight?” 

“Not to mention, he somehow has a costume change whenever he pulls out that ridiculous gun of his,” Cypher says, adjusting the brim of his sharply angled hat over his head. You snort into your coffee, taking a rather hearty sip of it. You promptly regret that choice, burning the roof of your mouth. “Careful. That’s hot.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” you retort. You focus back on the subject at hand, moving away from the kitchen area and to the chess table. You and Cypher take your seats on opposite ends, and you watch the man recline in his seat and crack his knuckles. You shake your head, hardly suppressing your own laughter. “And that thing he says! You want to play, let’s play? Like, of all the catchphrases someone could say. Really? That’s what you choose? At least yours is good. That shit makes me scared whenever I hear it.” 

“You should always be scared at the prospect of information in someone else’s hands,” Cypher remarks, rolling a rather large coin across his knuckles. Brimstone recently banned the agents from using their abilities in the break room, so you threw Cypher a bone and got him a coin he could do it with instead of his tripwires. 

“Honestly, I get more spooked by your neural theft ability than Chamber’s sniper rifle. But do you have to lose the hat every single time? I’m sorry, but you look bald without it,” you say, and you’re sure Cypher is rolling his eyes under his mask. 

“Yes, I do. Will you start the game or no?” Cypher gestures to the chess board. You move a random pawn, only to hear Cypher hum. “Interesting opening play.” 

“My only knowledge of chess comes from you. I’ve gotten used to losing,” you retort, sipping your coffee. You quirk your brow. “Do you think Chamber actually needs those glasses or wears them because he wants to look smart?” 

“The latter,” Cypher says in that tone of I know this to be true. Your mouth drops open in shock, and you put your hand over your mouth to stop your laughter. Why it’s so funny, you don’t really understand, but the simple concept of Cypher knowing this and only sharing it with you makes you giggle. 

You call yourself Cypher’s best friend, even if he won’t agree with it. Of all the agents in the Protocol, Cypher is arguably the one you’re the closest with, even though he knows everything about you and you know hardly anything about him. It’s a strange symbiosis of a friendship, but you’re beyond the point of caring. Besides, Cypher wipes any information of you off the internet for free, and by god, you love internet anonymity. 

“Oh my god, I can't believe Chamber wears those fucking glasses to look smarter. I thought he was genuinely blind. Do you know how thick those glasses are?” You giggle to yourself as Cypher moves his pawn on the chessboard. “I bet they’re something expensive too, like Gucci.” 

“Yves Saint Laurent, actually.” Cypher corrects. “French fashion company.” 

“Oh, of course, he would never betray his homeland,” you say, making a sweeping gesture over your head. You move another one of your pieces across the board. “The man can afford YSL but can’t get a pair of decent looking shoes. It’s embarrassing.” 

“Perhaps I should steer his internet search ads toward something better,” Cypher says. 

Leaning forward with a look of awe in your eyes, you whisper, “You can do that?” 

“Of course I can. I do it for everyone, including you,” Cypher responds, and it prompts you to wonder what you’ve bought recently that was gently guided by Cypher. The question causes your brain to fry, and you hardly have enough brain cells to play chess as it is. “We’re forgetting one thing about our dear Frenchman, however.” 

“What’s that?” You grab your coffee again, raising it to your mouth.

Cypher cocks his head to the side. “His juvenile crush on our resident lab jockey.” 

You spit out the liquid into the cup, followed by hacking coughs. “Fuck, Cyph, stop saying this these things when I’m trying to drink my coffee!” 

“That was on you, my dear.” 

You wave your hand at him dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. Do you think Chamber knows that Viper is, like, a total homo? Straight up lesbian? Entirely uninterested in men?” 

“His pride seems to smear that fact in his brain,” Cypher replies. “You think he would know the signs, considering a high majority of us in the Protocol are, as you say… fruity.” 

“And you’re the only straight guy I tolerate,” you remark, putting your hand on your chest. “And Sova. Sova’s chill.” 

Cypher moves another chess piece. “Consider me flattered.” 

You do the same, not truly paying attention to the game because you’re way too invested in your cup of coffee that you don’t notice Cypher moving his piece until his foot nudges you beneath the table. You jerk, moving your rook. 

“Checkmate,” Cypher says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Ugh, c’mon!” 

~~~~~ A/N: there is something so personal about being mean to chamber <3