[CONTAINS SMUT] ‼️18+‼️
~~~
Sent to earth as an alternative punishment for havoc reigned on Asgard, initially suggested by her adoptive mother Frigga, Y/n not only endures the pain of dealing with her brothers, The Avengers, Midgard's customs but al...
"Don't be. You don't need to be," taking your hand, he mindlessly fiddles his clutch, dragging his thumb over each tip of your finger.
The coarse touch of his scarred skin was oddly welcoming. Each branching scar ran up to his wrist, like the roots of Yggdrasil. You pull away your hand to simply switch the roles, dancing touch on the refined lines.
His breath suddenly stops at the feeling, eyes following your index finger. "Are you feeling better?"
"Mhm," you relax in his arms, moving closer than you already were.
"Did you want to talk about it?" He sees you shake your head. "Alright," his features soften, "did you want to go back out there or did you want to go to bed?"
"It's only 8, people are expecting me to-"
"And you just had a panic attack, Y/n, you don't owe anyone your presence. If you want to go to bed you have every right to,"
Pondering your options, you adjust your head against his chest, "if I stay at the party... will you be there?"
"I don't exactly have the choice to leave, Stark threatened-" he looks down when you don't laugh, "of course I'll be there," he runs over your hair and plays with the ends of it.
"Can I, uhm, stay by your side?"
"Of course," even with this he could sense caution, "and if you ever feel like it's too much just..." he tries to think of a certain action which would be subtle but distinguishable, "just run your right ring finger down your nose and hold your left wrist,"
"What?" You look up at him with a laugh. "That's stupid,"
"Mhm, well, it might come in handy if you don't want to say anything," he counters with an eye roll. "You do that and I can come up with an excuse to get you out of whatever situation we're in,"
~~~
"So, exactly what are you dressed as?" Stephen asks once you both exit the room.
"Moriarty, from Sherlock, duh," you say matter-of-fairly. "Who are you?"
"Sherlock, from Sherlock, duh," he mimics your tone.
Snickering behind your hand, you look over him with a unsure facade. "You don't look anything like him,"
"That's what I said," he scoffs, "the cloak begged to differ,"
"Well, I will say you don't look too awful,"
Stephen adjusts the scarf with a smirk, giving a metaphorical pat on the back to himself. "Everyone's this way," he points to his left once you stopped at the sight of the crowd. "Come on, we can get a drink and head over,"
"Just don't... tell anyone about anything that just happened," you grab his hand before he could leave.
He looked from the hold then up to you, "I promise."
~~~
"Finally! Thought you decided to ditch," Nat greets you, wearing her pirate outfit, while Wanda, in a Sokovian fortune teller costume, tilts her head at Stephen.
"What happened?" Wanda meets his eyes, mouth silent but the telepathic 'phone-line' was kept strong.
"Leave it." Stephen replies with a stern glance, removing her from his mind the moment there was a flash of what she was looking for.
Wanda retreats from his head once she was able to grab a small hint of the events. Strange's look of irritation grew when she gave a suggestive look.
"Maybe I went for the wrong twin," Anna looks at you with a slightly agape mouth.
"Anna!" Loki turns to her in shock.
"I was joking... kinda," she giggles at the brewing tantrum.
"So... are you just dressed as yourself? I'll admit that is scary," Clint, dressed as Legolas, chokes on his drink when you raise a pocket knife.
"Jim Moriarty," you stab it into the apple bowl beside him.
"Ha, kinky," Pietro, dressed as a blue and silver cheetah, cowers immediately from Loki's glare. "I make that joke regardless of who says it!"
"So!" You break the tension and slight chance of murder. "Exactly what happens?"
"Drinking, dancing and lots of candy," Thor who was... a pop tart(?) raises that infamous flask. "Care for some?"
"Bad idea," you look to Tony, who was unsurprisingly himself, holding his glass up.
"Well, Thor did already slip a little into the punch," Bruce adjusts his glasses which were a perfect match to his evil scientist look.
"That would explain the weird taste," you put your glass away, watching Bucky and Sam chug the drinks while Steve looked on in disappointment: they didn't make the worst looking Powerpuff girls- or rather, Powerpuff Soliders.
"At this rate, within five minutes, I assume half the guests to leave or pass out," Vision was considerably harder to take seriously in his wrestler costume.
"Bet," Bucky looks to Sam who dashed right for the bowl of punch.
The screams and yells from party goers suddenly grew louder. Chants for one or the other were like a pounding against your ear. Immediately your body retreats closer to Stephen who places a hand on your back.
"Do you want to go?" He watches the duo, asking this under his breath.
"I'm fine- just don't leave my side... please,"
"I promise," he follows close to you as the team moves to the couches. "Moriarty," he gestures for you to sit first, a playful tone in his voice.
"Virgin," you wink in character, sitting down. "I don't mean to alarm you,"
"Sex doesn't alarm me," he hands you a drink, not from the punch bowl.
"How would you know?" You challenge, unbothered by how closely he just sat.
"It's like watching a shitty roleplay," Natasha whisper to Stark.
"Or a horribly plotted fanfic," he counters.
Anna looks to the readers with a tight lip, blankly blinking at them. "Yeah, no I'll give him that," she admits, shrugging to the reader.
~~~
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