Written for @writingcroissant 2k
Marvel Writing Challenge!
Prompt:I need you to be my
girlfriend/boyfriend for about five minutes!
Pairing: Steve x Female!Reader
Summary : In which Steve comes to the rescue, is a bad liar, and also a thief.
Set between Avengers Assemble and Captain America : The Winter
Soldier.
Warnings : Situation of work harassment. No inappropriate touching but words. I’ve
been there and I didn’t trigger myself writing it but everyone’s different.
If only they could stay like this, he thinks, his attention drifting from the book resting on his stomach. Sidni’s fingers thread through his hair, nails scratching occasionally as she teases it into its natural state.
He glances up at Sidni from his resting place on her leg. Her face is turned toward the open doors of the balcony, a rare expression of peace softening her features. He shifts, pressing his cheek against her thigh. Yes, if they could just stay like this forever.
“Are you going to tell me what you were doing that night I found you in your office?”
He starts. There’s only one recent night she can mean. Heat floods his face as he thinks back to it. No. No he will not.
“Maker’s breath, Sidni! I thought you had forgotten it.”
She grins, still staring out into the night, grip tightening on his hair purposefully. He resists giving in to it.
“How could I?” She meets his gaze, her eyes full of the memory that followed. The spilled ink and wrecked papers and cracked chair.
“Something was on your mind.”
“I believe you were the one who instigated that.”
Her laugh rings through the room. “Cullen, I found you with your trousers half down. You can’t fool me into taking the blame.”
He’s not going to tell her what he was thinking about, nor what he imagined. She’s not going to let the subject drop, but maybe he can take a page out of her book.
She blinks when he drops the book to the floor and shifts. He straddles her legs with his knees, leaning in and brushing his roughened cheek against hers. A triumphant smile nearly breaks through when he hears her breath hitch. He trails his lips to hers, hovering over her mouth, listening to the way her breathing deepens and watching her hands fist in the quilt.
“Perhaps,” he says lowly, remembering her words, “I can show you.”
If you want to know what Sidni is referencing, you can find it here.
I’ve reached 300 followers and decided that it is my civic duty to perform a giveaway!
5 people will get a character of their choice (regular restrictions apply) done in concept art like our dear commander is modeling below.
Pretty fun, right? WELL, one ultra lucky person will receive….
That’s right, a free doll to cuddle on could be yours! The winner will be responsible for shipping, however.
The “rules”:
Likes and each reblog count as an entry, but please be considerate of your followers
You don’t have to be following me to be considered, but gosh that would sure be nice
Standard restrictions apply, so any doll that Sanshee has an official design for is off limits. Alterations (like doing Winter Palace Cullen instead of Commander armor) are juuuuust fine
Non-humanoid characters are acceptable on a case-to-case basis
Open to all fandoms (and if you want a real person, we can try)
Winners selected by random number generator
Entries are accepted from November 2, 2018 until November 15th at 11:59 pm MST
Because I have now hit 500 followers (whaaaaaaat), I’m increasing the drawings to 10 winners for concept and 2 winners for a doll!
Story: Tired of being the only single girl in the family you hire a male escort to accompany you to your niece’s wedding. Steve Rogers is everything you were looking for in a boyfriend and more. There’s only one problem: he’s only pretending to be yours.
Word Count: 2274
Warning: 18+ NSFW for explicit smut. Lots of fluff too. I’m trying to hold back on the angst for this one 😉
I totally blame the heat wave for this idea but I couldn’t get escort Steve out of my head so I had to write it. This was supposed to just be a smutty one shot, I totally shouldn’t be starting another multi chapter yet here we are, again.
For those of you waiting for After All, I’m still working on updating that one very soon too! In the meanwhile, I hope you guys like this one 😉
*****
Someone like you (chapter 1)
This was without a doubt the worst idea you’ve ever had. And that was saying something because you weren’t exactly known as the queen of good ideas.
Something in that invitation just triggered you, the fact that your niece was getting married and thus leaving you the only single girl in the entire family. Thinking of all the couples that would be at that wedding and how many times you’d have to answer the same questions: “so, when is it your turn, Y/N?” or “how’s your love life, no special man in your life yet?”
The answer was no, there was no special man in your life. There’d been men, several of them, but none of them turned out to be the kind of special you were looking for.
Summary: Agreeing to let the God of Lies train you on the use of Asgardian spacecraft had been a terrible, terrible idea. Now that he’s got you in his hands… you aren’t sure if he’s ever going to let you go.
Word Count: 2105
Pairing: Loki/Reader
Rating: M (smut-with-a-side-of-plot)
A/N: It seemed like quite a few people enjoyedShip It, so of course, my mind ran away with a followup… 😅 Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
These are the words written on a post-it (a human invention) in Persephone’s bedroom. They’re written in what she fondly calls New English, aka the English that her mother still doesn’t know, even after all these years.
Every morning, when she wakes, she sees this post-it stuck onto the stone wall and makes herself read it out loud.
“Stop checking on him,” she says, arms wrapped tight around her knees. “He doesn’t miss you.” The words bring the familiar sting of pain, the familiar tightness in her chest, the accompanying breathlessness. There’s still a part of her that rebels at the thought, that clings to what he said before and not after.
She thinks she might have been happier loving a mortal, which is so in fashion these days that her mother is gallivanting about Earth like she hadn’t spent centuries chastising Persephone for the same. If she loved a mortal, she could bind them in ways that it’s impossible to bind a god.
She gets up and gets ready for her day. Being an immortal means that she can’t just spend all day in bed. That path leads to centuries of apathy and she’s still young. So very, very young.
“Go back to Olympus. I should have known better than to let a child into my kingdom.”
There was no “letting” about it. She’d been younger still and in chains and in captivity and in love. She’d beguiled and coerced so that he’d take her with him, made him free her.
She’d thought she was shedding her chains, choosing new ones that better suited her, but she didn’t see the way her discarded shackles slipped onto him. She didn’t see what a burden she was, what a burden she would become to him, how limiting, how heavy, how stupid.
It’s been five years now and she’s still counting seasons like she has a chance of being let back in. Summer and winter, summer and winter, summer and winter, ad nauseum. Her mother had said that she’d stick to the cycle, that the Earth actually benefited from winter, but Persephone sees the way the summers are growing longer and hotter, the way the winters are short but so sharp she could cut her teeth on them.
Spring? She stopped that a long time ago. The melting of winter is good enough for mortals and gods alike. They don’t notice and, therefore, they don’t ask.
Maker's Breath 