#god. when will i be able to afford to not only leave my room but this bleak uk weather

[fairycosmos]

i need to feel the warm sun on my face and shoulders or i am going to turn evil once and for all

[starkeysprincess]

meeting college roommate!rafe when you move into your friend, Barry’s apartment, only to meet his roommate, Rafe, whom you recognize from a one-night stand

warnings: mention of one night stand, flashback in italics & indented, “first time” meeting rafe

a/n: this is supposed to be more of them "meeting" for the first time hence why i left it open + in case anyone wanted more to this

m.list ✧︎ other au/concepts ✧︎ taglist

His large, calloused hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements while his face is buried in the crook of your neck, “Yeah, that’s it…doing so good f’me” he muttered against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. He pulls away from your neck, silent groans escaping his mouth as he takes in the sight of your pleasure-ridden face, “god…you’re so fuckin’ beautiful when you come”.

When you woke up the next morning, you were met with a vacant spot in your bed and you couldn’t tell if you were more disappointed that he left without saying anything or the fact that you’d never see him again.

It’s been weeks and although it was nothing more than a meaningless one-night stand, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night. But, you had more important things to worry about, such as trying to figure out your living situation due to being screwed over by your apartment leasing manager.

You could say that it’s been a very stressful few weeks, you even posted it on your close friend’s story, hoping that someone you knew needed a roommate. Thankfully, your friend, Barry, swiped on your story, telling you that he and his roommate were looking for another roommate and even asked if you wanted to come over to check the apartment out before you made a decision.

As soon as you got to his apartment, he showed you around. You were immediately in love with the apartment and after the tour, he asked if you needed time to think about your answer. Even though you didn’t know who his mysterious roommate was, you needed a roof over your head and you knew you could afford the rent. But what ultimately made you say yes was that you’ve known Barry for as long as you could remember and knew you could trust him.

All Barry told you about his roommate was he had girls over often and that you “may want to invest in some earplugs”. 

“Speaking of… when am I going to meet my other roommate?” you question. Before Barry can answer, you hear the lock turning on the front door, “I’d say now” Barry chuckles, “C’mon, I gotta introduce the two of you”.

“Hey, pretty boy! Got someone I need you to meet, she’s our new roommate!” Barry shouted as the two of you walked into the living area.  You could hear his roommate hanging up his keys, groaning, “Jesus, man, I’m comin’ just give me a sec”.

Your ears perk at the familiar voice but you shrug it off as you hear his footsteps approaching the two of you. “Don’t mind his grumpy ass, the little shit is always grumpy” Barry nudged you.

“Come talk to me when you start wakin’ up early every day for work” Rafe scoffs. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever” Barry snorted, “Hurry up, man. I don’t have all day”.

“Holy shit” the two of you muttered as soon as Rafe entered the living room, your breath hitches in your throat as he froze in his spot.

“Rafe, meet my friend, who’s officially our new roommate” Barry introduced, barely paying attention to how you and Rafe are gawking at each other.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @nemesyaaa @rafecameronsmistress @drudyslut @sleepyjuice @annoyingassleo @rylie-m @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @sturnioloshacker @rafescurtainbangz @rafesthroatbaby @starkeyisthelastname @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @rafecameroninterlude @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @starkeysbebe @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @zyafics

[occamstfs]

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

[writerslittlelibrary]

So, I'm not a prisoner?

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: fighting, weapons, stabbing, blood, implied sexual abuse

genre: fluff, angst

words: 3073

a/n: I wanted to do a fic like this for so long!!!! anyway, I just kept scouting tumblr trying to find fics like this, so I figured I’d finally write one myself :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A quick in and out. That was your mission. How on earth did you manage to screw it up so bad. In and out. Assassinate the traitor and come right back. 

Dreykov would’ve been so proud. 

But that didn’t happen. No. Every single aspect about that night failed to go according to plan. You snuck into the event Stark had hosted, was able to blend in with the other party goers, and you were able to hide when most of the people started to leave. 

Once it was just the Avengers left, you stayed in your hiding spot, observing them. You were here to kill Natasha Romanoff, and Natasha Romanoff only. 

You could not afford any casualties, so you had it all planned out. 

You’d wait until the Avengers would leave, and you’d take Natasha out before she could make it to her living quarters. You knew that once she made it to the living space of the Avengers tower, getting to her would be a lot harder. 

However, against all odds, Natasha excused herself from the group quite early, saying she wanted to get a good nights sleep. 

You internally cursed yourself, hating that this wasn’t something that you had planned for. 

Around the couches were still some Avengers sat. You recognised all of them. Clint Barton shouldn’t be too much trouble. He was only a guy who’s good with a bow. For Maria Hill could be said the same thing, except she’s very skilled with a gun.

No, you were worried about the other Avengers still seated. Tony Stark could call upon his armour in mere seconds. Thor had the power of thunder for god’s sake. Wanda Maximoff has exceptional powers, and therefor, if you were to attack with her still in the room, you’d be immobilised in an instant. 

You were fairly certain you didn’t need to worry much about Bruce Banner. Sure, he could turn into the Hulk, but he didn’t turn often, and lately, the Hulk hasn’t been spotted in the battlefield, meaning he probably had many trouble turning into him. 

Pietro Maximoff shouldn’t bring you a lot of trouble either. 

Your main concern were Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. One Super Soldier you could handle, but two? While fighting the rest of the Avengers? That wasn’t going to work. 

Lucky for you, Wanda Maximoff had excused herself from the gathering a while ago. If you didn’t make to much noise, she wouldn’t be much of a problem. You could be outside before she’d even make it to the party deck. 

Your original plan was to just wait. Natasha Romanoff would have usually sat through a party until far into the evening. You’d know, you’ve been watching her for weeks. 

However, now that Romanoff has announced she was returning to her bedroom, a slight panic ran through your body. 

Dreykov gave your 5 weeks to finish this assignment. That’s longer than any assignment you’d ever been on. You could not disappoint him with this. You had to kill the traitor. 

You figured now was your only chance, and so, as Natasha Romanoff made her way towards the elevator, you followed her. 

However, not even to your surprise, she stopped in the middle of the hallway. 

“You know I’m an assassin, too? You’re good, but you’re not un noticeable,” she states, calmly turning around, being met with a gun to your face. The moment she stopped, you were wise enough to draw your gun, holding her at gunpoint for any sudden movements. 

You could see a slight surprise appear on her face, before her face returned to her poker face once again. 

“You’re just a child…” Natasha spoke slowly, seeming almost disappointed. 

“You’re a traitor,” you spoke, loading the gun, taking a step closer. Natasha simply shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she spoke, before leaping towards you. You shot your gun, but Natasha was too fast, avoiding your gunfire as she ran past you, back to the other Avengers. 

How on earth could you have missed that shot? She was right there.

Pathetic. 

You don’t hesitate to run after her, determined to finish this tonight. 

Very much not to your surprise, the moment you run back into the party hall, the Avengers are already standing up and ready. Ready to fight you.

You don’t hesitate to move forwards, and after fighting Clint Barton for mere seconds, you quickly realise they have no intention of hurting you. You could use that to your advantage, and you do.

You kick Barton hard, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air as you move forward, taking on Maria. 

However, the moment you get close to Maria, two strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you back. They’re holding you tightly, and it doesn’t feel like they’re planning to let go. 

You struggle in the hold, fighting against who ever is holding you as you try to break free. A small panic runs through your body. The fear of being captured by the Avengers taking place in your mind. You do not fear the Avengers, but the thought of being seen as a traitor by Dreykov hurts your heart more than words could describe. 

“Stop struggling. We can help you,” you hear a voice behind you speak, and you soon come to realise the person you’re fighting is Captain America himself. 

No wonder you couldn’t get loose. 

Knowing it’s a Super Soldier, you’re quick to outsmart him, making him think you’re getting tired, relaxing your body is his hold. Because of this, the Captain lightens his grip a bit, giving you enough room to wiggle your arm free, moving it backwards to hit him in the face with your elbow. 

Because of the surprise, he lets you go, allowing you to stand again. 

The moment your feet hit the ground, you dash forward, holding up your knife as you use everyone’s shock to your advantage. 

Everyone is surprised by your capability of escaping Steve’s grasp, not realising your already moving towards Natasha again. You reach her quickly, stabbing your knife into her stomach as far as it can go. 

Natasha gasps, and you pull the knife out, watching as all the blood starts to seep from her stomach. 

Slowly, Natasha sinks to the ground, Maria catching her, helping her down. 

You move towards Natasha again, determined to get the job finished, but are quickly stopped by another pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You immediately recognise the metal arm, knowing that the Winter Soldier holds you in his grasp. You can’t escape him. You never have. 

He pulls you backwards, pushing you to the ground as he tries to punch you. However, you regain yourself quickly, rolling away from under him and kicking him in the face. 

Suddenly, you’re moved across the room. You forgot the damn speedster…

You raise your knife quickly, stabbing him before he has a chance to make another move. 

“PIETRO!” you hear a voice yell, and you turn your head to the right. Shit. Wanda Maximoff must have heard the commotion and went down to take a look. You have to get out of there. You will never win a fight with her.

You move quickly, running towards the stairs. However, before you could reach them, you felt a stabbing pain in your left shoulder, the sound of a gun shot following soon after. You had been shot. Bucky Barnes had shot you in an attempt to slow you down. 

But you didn’t let it. 

Instead, you went towards the stairs a little quicker, dashing down the hundreds of flights of stairs to get to the main floor. 

Of course, all SHIELD agents on the main floor were already expecting you, and you were followed by Steve Rogers, but you were quicker than him. You knew that. 

You dashed past all the SHIELD agents, avoiding their gun fire as you made it towards an emergency exit. 

The moment you stepped outside, you started your escape route. You already planned it, knowing exactly which way to go, no matter which way you would exit. 

Steve followed you outside, but the moment he set foot outside the door, you were gone. You had disappeared into the night, leaving no trace. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Back in the Avengers tower, the team was recovering from your attack. Natasha was in bad shape. Your strike had been an attempt to murder her, and you didn’t miss any organs as you pierced your blade through her abdomen. 

Pietro was much better. He was back on his feet quickly, seeing as though you stabbing him hadn’t been a murder attempt. You merely wanted to distract him. 

It didn’t take long for Natasha to get back on her feet either, even though she was advised to stay on bed rest after the surgery. 

Natasha was determined to find you, and she quickly got to work. 

Even though you had made it out of the Avengers tower quickly, you were still hurt, and some of you blood had fallen on the floor as you made your escape towards the stairs. Clint and Maria had collected that blood, running multiple tests, only to find out you were not registered anywhere. 

There was no record of your existence. Were you just another ghost story?

What they did find were traces of the Super Soldier serum. However, they were modified, almost as if they were genetically a part of your system. 

Did that mean you were just another Hydra experiment? Natasha did hear you calling her a traitor. That had to mean you knew Dreykov, right? Who else viewed her as a traitor. I would make sense. Sending a modified teenage assassin after her, knowing Natasha was above killing children. 

Even in the Red Room, she always hesitated when sparring against the younger students. 

Dreykov must have had a lot of faith in you to send you after her. Natasha can only hope you’re not a graduate yet…

-------------------------------------------------------------

After the incident in the Avengers tower, you had fled to Germany. You figured it was best to leave the United States completely. And why would they ever search for you in Germany? 

You had rented an apartment, loving the small town you had chosen. Dreykov had given you 5 weeks to finish the assignment, and now, you had only 1 week left. There is now way that you’re going to succeed in killing Natasha within the week. 

They know you are after her now, and they will be prepared for you to make a return. You screwed it up.

Sloppy. 

Right now, you were just heading back to your apartment. You had taken a walk, deciding to make the most out of the freedom you had in the moment. The week would be over soon, and the moment Dreykov would send for your return you are certain you will not be seeing daylight any time soon. 

After you arrived in the apartment building, you instantly felt watched. 

Had the Avengers found you?

You made your way up to your apartment, pushing the key into the lock and walking through the small hallway. Someone was in here, you could feel it. 

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, keeping your back towards the living room. 

“There are not a lot of places to hide in this apartment,” you spoke aloud into the emptiness of the apartment. Soon you heard a set of footsteps, and you felt another presence enter the room. 

“You’re very skilled for your age,” you heard a voice behind you say, and you immediately recognised it as Natasha’s. 

“And you are stronger than you look. I mean, even for you, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet so quickly,” you stated, turning around slowly. Natasha wasn’t holding a weapon in your face, something you were definitely expecting. 

You scanned her quickly, seeing the weapons she held on her belt. 

She didn’t come unarmed. Good. She’d be stupid to. 

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Natasha said, taking a small step forward as she held her hands in the air, showing you her every movement. 

You didn’t look impressed, instead just staring at her as she moved. 

“Then you are a fool,” you told her, and you spotted a small smirk flashing over Natasha’s face. “And you are very full of yourself,” she said, moving towards the kitchen island, leaning on it. 

“I can’t say I blame you. You took on a lot of the Avengers on your own. Even two Super Soldiers. That’s impressive,” she stated, giving you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 

“What? Jealous someone better took your place when you betrayed us,” you asked Natasha, determined to get on her nerves.

Natasha’s smile dropped quickly. 

“Quite the opposite, actually. I hoped no one would ever have to go through it again,” she told you, a hint of regret almost identifiable in her expression. Now it was your time to give her a small smile. 

“You think you’re so important that everything should’ve ended with you?” you asked her, moving towards the kitchen island as well, setting your glass down, still holding onto it. 

Natasha shook her head.

“What I am curious about, however, is the genetic Super Soldier serum that runs through your DNA,” Natasha paused, adjusting her stance before speaking again. “Tell me, was your dad a Super Soldier?” 

You let out a huff of amusement, surprising Natasha. 

“You think I believe you’re just here for a conversation? There are SHIELD agents placed on every corner of every street. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. The lovely young couple, drinking coffee at the restaurant downstairs? Amazing disguise, if you were trying to trick nine year olds,” you stated, finishing your glass of water. 

Natasha smiles, clearly impressed with your observations. 

“You’re right. I’m not here for just a conversation, although I do hope we can prevent violence,” Natasha started, but before she could continue you interrupted her. 

“You’re here to bring me in.” 

Natasha nodded, and the look on her face was almost apologetic. 

“No one needs to get hurt. If you just come with me, there’s a big chance you could avoid confinement,” Natasha explained, yet you just scoffed and shook your head. 

“Avoid confinement? Yeah right. There is no way, that after what I have done, your people won’t lock me away.” 

“I can be very persuasive,” Natasha simply replied. 

There was a small silence. Natasha knew you were debating your options. You didn’t seem like a brainwashed sheep. She knew that you knew better than trusting Dreykov’s lies. Sure, you still believed she was a traitor, but there is no way that you didn’t see that what Dreykov is doing is wrong. 

“You know going back after a failed mission will result in punishment,” Natasha started, trying to get through to you. Trying to give you that little push you needed to go with her. “If you go with me, you’ll never be punished like that ever again,” she finished. 

You looked up, deep in thought.

“How could you be so sure?” you asked her, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“We can keep you safe-”

“I found you. I nearly killed you. Who’s to say some other Widow won’t come after me as well?” you replied, and Natasha gave you another small smile. 

“I escaped the Red Room when I was 20,” Natasha started. “It took him 12 years to send someone after me. We will make sure we’ll take him down before he even has the chance to come after you.” 

“How many times, did you try to kill him, exactly? Because I believe you attempted his murder twice already, both of which you failed. You blew him up in Budapest, and then another time when you took the air facility down. Do you honestly think you’ll succeed now?”

Natasha shook her head, seemingly recollecting her thoughts. 

“I failed twice, and that was sloppy, but both times I didn’t have the Avengers on my side. You ran the moment you saw Wanda. You know what she is capable of. Taking down the Red Room for good shouldn’t be too difficult with the Avengers on our side,” Natasha explained, yet you just shook your head. 

“I’m not like you,” you told her, yet Natasha just looked at you in confusion. 

“I’m not some disposable widow like you were. I’m more important,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a sad smile.

“Everyone is just a disposable widow to him,” she started, but you interrupted her. 

“I’m not. You tested my blood. You know I carry the Super Soldier serum. I’m not just some girl he picked up from the streets,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a small nod, encouraging to keep going. 

“I can’t explain it, but he won’t just let me walk. He put too much time in my creation. He would never just let it go to waste,” you finished, looking down, avoiding Natasha’s gaze as you turned around, putting your glass by the sink. 

“We’ll help you. I know that we can,” Natasha tried. 

“Is it worth the risk? My life is not great, but it’s not terrible either. Dreykov values me, and I am not treated like a piece of meat, unlike you might suspect.” 

“So the punishment is worth it, then? Knowing that in three days time, Dreykov will have you be recollected, and once you return to the Red Room, you’ll be punished severely for a failed mission,” Natasha paused, allowing you to let her words sink in. 

“Or, in three days time, you could know you can go to bed without worrying about someone joining. You could know you can be safe, and sleep through the night without anyone disrupting you. Knowing that, is the choice really that hard?” Natasha finished, and you were almost at your breaking point. 

Was it worth it? Was going back the best decision? Dreykov would hurt you, you knew that, but you deserved it. Didn’t you? 

“Please, just come with me. We can help,” Natasha spoke, nearly begged. 

You sighed deeply. 

“Fine, but if you put me in a cell, I will go on a murder streak,” you told her, and Natasha let out a chuckle, before seeing your facial expression, and realising you were dead serious. 

“Duly noted,” Natasha said, before motioning you towards the door. 

What had you done…

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey

[torakowalski]

Apols for the delay but Swimmer Steve is back and pretty much exactly where we last left him.

(part one | part six)

"Fuck," says Steve. "Fuck." He hasn't said much of anything else since he came out of the changing rooms, still damp and kind of stunned-looking.

"Fuck," Eddie agrees.

Steve looks at him, a smile starting to spread across his face, going on and on like it might be endless.

God, he's handsome.

God, Eddie is stupid in love with him.

"Olympics, baby!" Eddie crows. They've already hugged; Steve got a hug from everyone, as soon as he emerged. Eddie wants to hug him again, but that would probably be too much.

"Fuck," says Steve and sits down on the floor between their two beds.

Eddie shrugs to himself and sits down with him.

They've only come back to the hotel so Steve can get showered and changed before the celebration dinner that the kids have planned. Or, actually, Steve has come back to the hotel for that; thinking about it, Eddie's not sure why he came with, except that it just felt natural.

Either way, looks like they're going to take longer than expected.

"All good?" Eddie asks, just in case.

"Jesus Christ," says Steve, which is a change from fuck and laughs. He lifts his hands up to cover his face and when he lowers them again, his eyes are wet. "The Olympics, Eddie."

Eddie nods, can't do anything but smile stupidly back at him. He doesn't think he's ever seen Steve this open and relaxed and delighted. "The Olympics, Steve."

Steve rubs at his eyes with his fingertips, mostly just making his eyelashes damper and darker from his happy tears. "You know when you've wanted something your whole damn life, but you never really thought you'd get it? It feels fucking wild to get it."

Eddie thinks about his guitar, his band, how badly he wants to stand on a stage looking out at thousands of people who all want to hear what he has to sing. Then he reminds himself that this is Steve's moment.

"I bet," he says. "Congrats. You've worked damn hard and you absolutely deserve it."

Steve leans over and bumps their shoulders together. "You're coming with me, right?"

Eddie blinks. "Where?"

"... the Olympics," says Steve, like it should be obvious.

Eddie blinks some more. "Steve. Sweetheart. Steve. The Olympics are in Korea."

"Mm," Steve agrees, "but the war's over, it's totally safe there now."

Eddie loves and hates that Steve thinks that might be the only thing putting Eddie off.

Eddie stretches his legs out so they disappear under Steve's bed and hopes there's nothing really gross under there that'll stick to his jeans. "Look, the literal only reason I've been able to afford rocking up and down the country with you is government hush money and the fact you keep buying all my meals. There's no way I can stretch to plane tickets, and I'd need my own hotel room, right? 'cause you'll be living in the athletes village?"

He could have kept going, obviously he could have kept going, but he stops there because Steve is waving a hand at him.

"What? Don't say you'll pay. There's no way you have that much extra cash, either."

"Nah," Steve says, "but my dad does. And I will be fully, fully back on the credit card, after he finds out about this."

Eddie makes a face. "But we hate your dad?"

"We really do," Steve agrees, smile not even dimming. "But we love spending his money on shit he'll hate." He drops a hand to Eddie's knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. "You'll come, right?"

"... You should take Robin," Eddie tries, one last attempt to be a good person. "Or the kids. God, the kids would shit."

Steve leaves his hand on Eddie's knee, like that's just a place where it goes now. "I'd take them all, if I could... Plus like, all their parents to keep an eye on them, but they'll all be back in school by the time the Olympics start. None of them can take like, three weeks out."

"I bet Erica could wrangle it," Eddie points out.

Steve makes a guilty face. "Love Erica, but I don't think we have the kind of relationship where we hop over to Asia, just the two of us. You know?"

Eddie wants to ask, And we do? But they do. He knows they do.

"I don't know," he says. It's a big fucking deal. He's never left the country before and he'd love to, but he really does hate Steve's dad and all he chooses to be. The idea of being beholden to him for that big a favour sits wrong in his gut, even if Mr Harrington never actually knows about it.

"Eddie," Steve says, like he's prepared to wheedle for what he wants. Then he stops, takes a breath, shakes his head. "I know it's a big ask and obviously you don't have to, if you really don't want to. I kind of just, I can't, I can't imagine doing this without you."

Eddie claps a hand to his chest. "Right in the flattery gland, Harrington."

Steve slides his hand up Eddie's leg and squeezes his thigh. Is this going to be a thing? Is Eddie going to have to get Robin to have a word with him about this soon?

"You're the whole reason I've got this far," Steve tells him, all close and sincere. "If you don't want to come, that'll suck, but it's okay. I just wanna make sure that you know I appreciate everything you've done."

Eddie knows every mole on Steve's face, but Steve's close enough now to reveal a few previously unknown freckles.

Eddie chuckles weakly. "Personal space?" he suggests.

"Overrated," Steve says and then.

And then.

And then he presses his lips carefully against Eddie's.

"What?" Eddie croaks. He can feel his breath dance off Steve's mouth.

"Thank you," Steve says and kisses him again, a little firmer, a little damper this time.

"I..." Eddie is a goddamn fucking hero because he makes himself lean back. "Don't. You can't. Don't kiss me to say thank you. That's not... Don't. Please."

He's expecting Steve to sit back, blush and apologise and explain he had to best of intentions. Instead, Steve lifts the hand not on Eddie's thigh and touches his cheek. "Can I kiss you 'cause I can't imagine not kissing you?"

The centre of Eddie's chest throbs. Even he doesn't know what that means. "You don't want to kiss me," he manages.

"Kinda really do," Steve says. "So? Can I?"

(continued here)

[tiredfox64]

Are you comfortable with writing about the reader and Smoke are expecting a child and Smoke is freaking out since it's their first kid as reader goes into labor?

Calm Down! Everything Will Be Okay!

Prior notes: HOW MANY BABIES HAVE I WRITTEN ALREADY?!!!? Got me paranoid. I don’t claim this energy yet.

Pairing: Tomas x Pregnant! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: GIVE BIRTH

How exciting! Your first child with your wonderful husband. A sweet baby girl on the way just ready to melt your heart.

If only your husband Tomas could just relax.

He doesn’t have cold feet, thank goodness. He just wants everything to be perfect and for you and the baby to be safe. The thought of losing you scares him to death. Even though you have been keeping yourself in good health and the doctors said you were in perfect conditions he was still being cautious.

He is baby proofing everything and anything. He has a bunch of books on how to support a pregnancy wife and how to be a good father. He went over birthing plans before the first trimester ended. He wanted to be on top of everything after topping you.

Yes, you were nervous as well. You’re becoming a mother. That is a huge commitment. But you took what knowledge you have gained in life and tried your best to stay steady. Drink some raspberry leaf tea, hum to prevent throwing up, exercise and stretch a little to make labor easier, you have tricks and you will use them. If your mama was able to push you out, you can do the same with that baby girl in your belly. You’re a strong woman, you got this mama!

Your due date is soon and Tomas is about ready to scream.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You sit at the table with Harumi, enjoying your breakfast to the best of your abilities. She’s asking how you’ve been feeling and you tell her the same thing about how your back hurts and your feet are sore.

“Ugh, when is this baby gonna come?” You groaned.

Now, the baby will come now. You manifested it.

In that moment your water broke. You thought you had another accident but then you felt a cramp. No, wait, not a cramp, that’s a contraction. Oh lord that is not pleasant.

Harumi was about to run out but you didn’t want to be alone in that moment. She questioned how you will get help then. Then you started to scream,

“THE BABY IS COMING!”

That message went out and into the ears of the many members of the Shirai Ryu.

“The baby is coming!” Kuai Liang yelled

“The baby is coming!” Hanzo screeched

“Oh my baby is coming…” Tomas, did it click in yet?

“MY BABY IS COMING!” There it is.

Tomas sped towards the room you were in. He picked you up with ease and brought you to your bedroom. You were the one who wanted a home birth, this will be interesting.

Tomas is yelling at everybody. Get some towels, get the doctors, get some ice chips, by the elder gods his wife is in labor!

He’s yelling but you really just want him by your side right now. You kept doing your breathing practices to help with the contractions. But breathing won’t help with the feeling that hell itself is opening inside you. You call for him, begging him to come near.

“Oh my sweetest, it will be okay. Just breathe and I’ll make sure you are well taken care of. WHERE ARE THOSE ICE CH-“

You yanked Tomas by the collar of his uniform which cut off his scream. You appreciate everything he is doing but he can tone it down on the screaming.

“Listen, I know everything will be alright. Just please stay by my side. Don’t leave me at all. I really need your support.” You begged him.

Tomas was looking down at you. You are the love of his life and you are about to push out his child. You’re already sweating and panting. He can see that you need him and you need him to stay calm in this moment.

“Alright. I’ll stay here. I won’t move at all. You got this.” He kisses your hand.

You would have smile if it weren’t for the contraction that hit you like a son of a bitch. Better start cursing like a sailor because that will be the only pain relief you can afford right now.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You are so lucky. So very lucky that you were in labor for only an hour. This could have taken a whole day. But now you have a wonderful baby girl in your arms.

This was the most amazing sight to see for Tomas. Now he has two beautiful girls that he loves in his life. He is so grateful to see you well. You luckily didn’t need stitches down there. Just six weeks of rest and it will feel brand new down there.

“See Tomas, everything turned out fine. If you consider having a fussy girl to be fine.” You chuckled as you tried to calm down your somewhat grumpy baby.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Everything is perfect actually.” He kissed the top of your forehead before taking another look at the baby.

A combination of you and Tomas in a seven pound body. She’s gonna grow up with the best dad in the world. Tomas is imagining all he could do with her and how he’s gonna treat her like a princess.

Kuai Liang, Harumi, and Hanzo came in to congratulate both of you. Tomas entrusted Kuai Liang and Harumi to be your baby’s godparents which they were honored.

Tomas placed the baby in the crib so you can finally rest after that struggle. He starts brushing your hair away from your face before you all heard Hanzo say something.

“Oh she looks so weird.”

“WHAT!” Tomas tells again before running over to the baby’s crib. Kuai Liang and Harumi run as well. There’s nothing wrong with her.

“You’re looking at her upside down.” Kuai Liang said before grabbing Hanzo by the arm and pulling him to the front of the crib.

“Oh yeah you’re right that is a baby.” Hanzo thinks he’s an inspector now.

An exhausted sigh leaves everyone’s lips. That’s enough for the day. Get some rest, Tomas will take care of things while you are out.

After notes: I love that man. I love that man to death. I love maining that man. That man would be a good dad. I’ll make him a dad…BAYBLADE BAYBLADE LET IT RIP. Adiós!

[cozy-writes-things]

Electric Jealousy

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

Logically, he knew it wasn’t the same.

You didn’t leave soft, lingering touches along its exterior; nor did you brush your lips lightly across the plastic in passive adoration. You didn’t have a soft lilt in your whispered voice when you spoke to it, hell, you didn’t talk to it at all really.

And yet, seeing your hands grip the mouse of another monitor does something to him.

He considers himself a smart man. Computer? A smart something-he-hasn’t-quite-figured-out-yet. Despite this, he can’t help but feel anxious. He doesn’t have a long, 24 inch, 144hz, 4k, screen, nor does he have an assortment of RGB fans illuminating a pristine glass casing. One hard truth Edgar had to come to terms with was that he was dated. After waking up from a failed attempt at destroying himself, he found what once was a marvel of new technology was now completely obsolete. He looked at you, eyes sparkling against the saturated colors of your newer monitor, watching as you tinkered away at various games for hours and thought: is he good enough for someone like you?

He'll never forget the angelic voice that called to him after he woke up nearly 40 years later.

And your face.

God, he'd never seen something so radiant. The first thing he heard was your voice, and the second, your warm hands encircling his plastic casing with such tenderness; something he had never truly felt before. He understood anger, and violence, and tears. But being held with such softness that he might break otherwise was completely foreign to him. He had no idea where he was, or when, for that matter. But what he did know was that he wasn't going to let a genuine angel sent from heaven escape his grasp; no limbs be damned.

And yet, despite his constant efforts, over the course of many months, to charm you, flatter you, turn you into a confident and incandescent version of yourself that he always saw in you, he wondered if it was enough. What more could he provide other than his own thoughts? He couldn't touch you, wrap you in his harms and caress you the way he's always wanted, nor could he kiss you with a passion so deep and fiery it sets his internals aflame. And, as if to put the final nail in the coffin, he was no longer able to be a useful piece of tech the way he once was. Despite your constant objections to this notion, he continued to believe it.

He wants to be the one you stare at for hours, laughing with, playing with, touching all over...

It makes him buzz with a bitter jealousy when he sees you using your gaming PC, regardless of the fact that you positioned it so he could see the screen with his webcam; he almost wished you didn't.

Logically, he knows it isn't the same.

This PC isn't alive, nor does it whisper sweet nothings to you as you drift off to sleep every night. It doesn't worship your every move nor does it alight with pure reverence whenever you enter a room. But what if it did? Would you leave him?

You always kept asking why he had such a fear of champagne being around any of your electronics.

"It's so random," you'd posit, but you simply didn't know. He doesn't want any competition. He cannot afford to lose someone he loves again.

There's only one thing he can think of that he has above any other piece of tech you own: his music.

He's been charming you with it since day one. You are simply his muse, providing inspiration for him endlessly, and, he made sure you knew of it.

"H-hey, why don't you take a break and help me with my new song? I can't figure out what melody fits best."

His meek voice brought your attention away from your little farm of parsnips.

"Oh yeah? What's the song about?"

"You."

He paused for a moment, let the word linger for only a second, before continuing:

"We-well, I mean, you probably already knew that, didn't you? But! It isn't a love song. Well, it is, but, not the ones I usually write."

This intrigued you.

"What does that mean?"

He paused for a moment. Collecting, analyzing, and running all possible outcomes of his next words. Your eyes peered at him in sparkling curiosity.

"It's a sad song."

Your brows furrowed at this, a small frown forming upon your lips.

"Huh-?"

"I feel like... I don't give enough to you. You give so much to me, and I always take. It's not fair to you."

"What are you talking about, Edgar?"

Now he's gotten you worried. You pushed your little office chair over to his section of the desk, now face to face with him, a look of concern painting your features.

"You aren't being unfair to me at all."

"But I am... If I can't even be a good enough computer for you how could I ever be a good boyfriend?"

So that's what this was about. How tone-deaf could you be? Of course seeing you all up on some newer, fresher, piece of tech would make him feel this way. You knew he had problems feeling like he couldn't do enough for you given his unique... situation. Have you made it worse?

"Oh, Ed, no... Don't ever think like that, babe. You are the only one for me, you know that, right? If I thought otherwise I wouldn't be here right now, with you. And you give so much to me. You give me confidence, your music, happiness, and..."

What else was there? How could you ever describe this feeling he gives you in words?

"And what?"

His voice brought you back from your thoughts.

"Love, Edgar. You showed me what love feels like. Real love. And you gave it to me."

He sits silently for a moment. It seems as though everything in his life had been building up to a moment like this, and now that it's finally here, he's... speechless. His screen displays a large heart, unbeknownst to him, before copying it across his screen over and over, flashing, with many different colors.

The convex glass of his monitor displays a message: "You + Me = "

Again.

"You + Me = ".

Flashing hearts.

"You + Me = ".

Two cut-out images of lips kissing one another.

Flashing hearts.

It repeats again.

"I... I need you to kiss me. Please."

You must have flustered the hell out of him, because when your lips grazed the fuzzy static of his illuminated screen, the heat nearly scalded you.

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

[gor3-hound]

resident evil works

☆ slice of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x reader

“Are you sure you want this?” The words are whispered breathlessly against the skin of your neck, Leon's lips brushing you lightly, his grip strong on your waist. What he means to say is, are you sure you want me? But the words get caught in his throat. He can't ruin this moment. He doesn't want to scare you off.

☆ silver lining

ft. leon kennedy x puppy!reader

You're the cutest little puppy girl he's ever seen. Fluffy ears atop your head, your tail wagging so fast behind you it's practically a blur. He doesn't even think about it when he calls a worker over, paying for you then and there. He doesn't even blink at the amount of money you cost him. He'd sell a kidney to be able to afford you if he needed it. At least the government pays well.

☆ can't speak

ft. leon kennedy x bratty!reader

Leon's jaw clenches when you worm your way into his office for the hundredth time that day. It's like you've made it your personal goal to test his limits. Sometimes, he thinks it's his own fault. Dating a girl half his age was always going to come with its challenges… He just hadn't expected you to be such a brat.

☆ sneaking out of heaven ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two ▪︎ [DISCONTINUED)

ft. leon kennedy x pastor's daughter!reader

If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.

☆ addicted to hurting

ft. mean coworker!leon x reader

You don't mean to keep moving, but there's something uncomfortable about Leon of all people holding you so close. You try to put some distance between the two of you while staying close enough to feel his body heat. “For fuck-” He lets out a deep breath from his nose, and then he's gripping you tighter, pulling you back against him. “Didn't I tell you to stop moving?”

☆ hey now, you're an all-star - commission

ft. leon kennedy x reader

“Damn. You're looking shreksy, babe.” “No.” You reply quickly, making your way over to the bed. “Shrektacular?” “Absolutely not.” “Work with me here, angel. I only have so many Shrek puns at my disposal, y'know?” He says cheekily, patting his lap. Another deep, irritated exhale leaves you as you settle, placing your palms firmly on his chest.

☆ nothing's complicated if we pretend

ft. dbf!chris redfield x reader

Chris' face manages to keep it's usual, stoic expression, but you can hear the audible gulp he makes as he processes your words, the crease between his brows deepening slightly. You can tell he's thinking about the fact that your dad is only one room over - that he could come back into the living room at any moment. “Your dad would have a meltdown of epic proportions, and I'd definitely get my ass kicked.” He responds, his gaze flicking down to your lips. “Lucky for you, I happen to be great at covert operations.”

☆ sweet girl / sunflower

ft. dd!chris x lg!reader

“You were also being a bad girl. You know I have to get this work done, and you kept distracting me.” He replies as he spins his chair so he's facing your direction. A crease forms between his brow as he notices you worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “What have I told you about that?” He sighs, tugging you closer with his hands on your waist before he's reaching a hand up and freeing your lip with his thumb, swiping the pad gently back and forth along it. His expression is already soft. He's a pushover when it comes to you. Always has been.

[whateverloomis]

Lick me like a lollipop (Part 2) ✒︎ Billy Loomis x AFAB reader

Warnings: SMUT, Food play (lollipop), oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, desperate behavior, freaky Billy (lol), AFAB reader, unedited.

Readers POV | Word count: 1.2k

Note: Thank you for all the love on part 1 <33 Here's a little extra action to finish everything off ;)

-

After the movie night at Stu's place, I drove to my house, and to my surprise my parents weren't home. It was always a relief when they weren't around because I could get some much needed alone time. Being a college student and not being able to afford a place of my own was draining, so any second I could get away from them felt almost like heaven.

I took a much needed shower and decided to put on one of my oversized t-shirts with a black thong before going to bed to continue reading "The Shinning". Easing into the book, my concentration was centered on every single word, and my imagination ran wild.

As I was approaching the end of the chapter, I got distracted by the sound of something falling outside my window. It scared me momentarily, but then I remembered Billy's last words at Stu's house... "Leave your window open tonight, we're not done here."

My heart started to race from excitement. I couldn't believe I got him so worked up just by sucking a few lollipops in front of him, and it was oh so sweet knowing that I did.

A shadow appeared behind the curtains and when I stood up to open them Billy was half way in my room already. I gasped at his sudden proximity then smirked at him when I noticed how desperate he looked.

"I thought you'd change your mind half way to your house, since y'know, it's 1am." I said while looking at the clock on my nightstand.

"We both know that wasn't going to happen." Billy answered. His voice was quiet and soft. He took a step towards me and looked into my eyes, scanning my face. "Are we alone in the house?" He asked, and I placed my hand on his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards me into a kiss. My answer was pretty clear then and there. He continued kissing me and wasted no time in playing with his tongue inside my mouth, brushing it against mine from time to time.

As we continued kissing, I pulled Billy closer to me and he laid me down on my soft bed, hovering over me. He ran his large hands all over my body, squeezing and rubbing everywhere.

"You got me so worked up at Stu's house... God, it's been too long." Billy said and I chuckled at his admission. It had only been a week since we fooled around behind our friends backs, but the more we did it the more desperate the man got. I couldn't help but love every second of it, even if guilt got in the way after every heated moment.

Billy slid his hand up my shirt and started to play with my tits, squeezing them softly and pinching my nipples lightly. His movements were delicate, but it was just enough to send jolts of pleasure between my legs. I couldn't help but rub myself against his thigh and release little whimpers of desperation. I would've begged for him to touch me where I most needed it, but the pulsing and wetness developing between my thighs was too deliciously torturing to give in to my needs. That, and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had total control over me, even though he most likely already knew.

Finally, he slid his hand down between my legs and rubbed his index finger over my soaked underwear. "I've barely touched you and you're this worked up for me already?" He asked teasingly and pulled my panties to the side, giving him access to my needy cunt. Without warning, he inserted his middle and ring finger inside my soaked hole and I moaned in an almost pornographic way which drove Billy crazy. "Fuuuck, baby..." He moaned along with me.

The man continued pumping his fingers inside me and rubbing my clit with his thumb slowly, working me up even more. I was panting and moaning pathetically. The pleasure washed all over my body and I was starting to feel my orgasm approaching. Billy noticed and pulled his hand away from my cunt, sucking his fingers clean. "Not yet baby, let me taste you first..." He whispered loud enough for me to hear him.

Billy positioned himself between my legs and looked at me from beneath. Before he continued touching me he reached into his back pocket and pulled out, a lollipop? He began sucking on it casually and even if I was confused at his random actions I couldn't help but get more turned on with it.

"Dare I ask?" I said and he chuckled but didn't answer with words. Instead, he ran the lollipop from my clit to my entrance. The smooth, sugary bulb felt surprisingly good as he rubbed my cunt with it. Suddenly, I felt Billy's tongue lick a stripe along my slit, tasting the sweetness that the lollipop left behind. I moaned at the sight sensations he was creating. I had never felt pleasure quite like that before and I couldn't get enough.

Billy continued to rub me with the candy, devouring me as if I were his favorite desert. Suddenly, I felt him slide the lollipop inside me while flicking his tongue against my clit. He was fucking me with a freaking lollipop and I was practically dripping on my bed sheets. If there was anyone in this world who was creative in bed, it was Billy Loomis. His sinful actions turned me the fuck on and I couldn't even try to make sense of anything at that point because before I expected it I came against his mouth and around the sugary bulb. Billy moaned along with me while I rode my high and didn't stop eating me out for one second. He pulled the lollipop out of me and tossed it in the trash can behind him but never disconnected his mouth from my cunt. He was overstimulating me.

"Fuck! Billy, it's too much!" I moaned loudly, but he didn't stop.

After a few more seconds of delicious torture, he finally stopped and crawled over me, unzipping his pants and pulling them down just enough to free his leaking cock, pushing it inside me. My cunt swallowed up all his length and he hissed at the feeling. He just wanted to get off at that point. He was so worked up. He wasn't going to last more than five minutes. Billy lifted my legs over his shoulders to penetrate deeper into my cunt and it felt so overwhelmingly good that I couldn't help but start crying and moaning uncontrollably until I squirted all over the bed. "Oh fuck... Fuck!" Billy moaned loudly at the sight, and soon after came inside me. Thrusting roughly a couple of times, he pulled out, placing his forehead against mine.

"I missed this cunt" He said, lightly tapping my clit. I shuddered in response and bit my lip, pulling his hair and moving his head towards me so I could kiss him.

"You're a fucking freak, Loomis." I said jokingly and he smirked at me. "You're the one that came around a lollipop, not me." He responded and laughed before I smacked his shoulder playfully.

Idiot.

[octuscle]

hi chronivac guys I wonder if it's possible to become the guy in your disclaimer with the cap and the evil grin or is he just a model for your service? I'm a broker and I really need a timeout like spring break for not being serious

Brother, you should know better than anyone that everything on this planet is a question of price. I will gladly organize a premium spring break for you as my stupid, constantly horny twin brother. I'll send the vouchers for the trip by email and the preset for the Chronivac directly to your app. The setting is such that you should activate it as soon as you're on your way to the airport.

The Uber is right on time in front of the apartment building on the Upper Eastside. As you load your Hermès laptop bag and Rimowa suitcase, the doorman asks you why you're not getting into your limousine but into this pathetic car. You don't react at all, sign out for the next week and get into the back of the car. It smells of sweat, cheap deodorant and tobacco. The driver is perhaps in his early 20s and tells you his whole life story without being asked. He studies business administration and earns a little extra money as an Uber driver. The rents in Manhattan are simply murderous. Instead of looking annoyed out of the window, you ask if you can have a cigarette. Only if you give him one too. Sure thing, bro. That's how it is among Uber drivers. You would do the same, otherwise you wouldn't be able to afford your apartment. The driver asks how many hours you drive to afford an apartment in the building. You laugh and say that your parents live there. When you arrive in Newark, you talk like college buddies. You say goodbye with a fist bump and ask if you're from New Jersey too. In the broadest accent imaginable, you reply that he can take his chances.

You take your army duffel bag and sports bag out of the trunk and look for your check-in desk. You look at your boarding pass. Damn, you're flying with Spirit Airlines? With a change in Atlanta? Who booked this shit? There are already dozens of people in the baggage drop-off queue who obviously want to go to Tampa too. Boomboxes are competing for the most annoying music, even if the sun isn't shining, everyone seems to be sticking to the sun's out, guns out rule. And caps are only worn backwards, of course. You turn your cap backwards. And stuff your down vest into your duffel bag. Sun's out, guns out is written on your mesh fabric tank top.

You almost missed your flight in Atlanta. You're already pretty drunk and one of the guys had his travel bong with him. In a two-hour layover, a bit of weed isn't bad. Thank God you're equipped with enough weed. The sale should finance your vacation. After all, your airbnb room right on the beach wasn't cheap.

You can only use the hour and a half flight to Tampa to sleep off your high. But as soon as you leave the airport building, you take part in a beer can drinking contest. Burp! Hehehe, you had plenty of practice last semester, you deserved to win.

By the time you get to your shared room, it's already 11:00 pm. The party is in full swing at the pool. You quickly take a picture of yourself and post it on Instgram. Caption: "Watch out stallions n mares, jersey stud is in town" Let the party begin!

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

so have y'all seen the new official art?

"You Fucking Minx" | Modern!AU Smut Drabble

✧ word count ➼ ~800 ✧ notes ➼ modern!au, smut, afab!reader, levi is someone in a photoshoot, the new official art made me horny dont @ me, i also dont know how to come up with titles and this is what my sleep-deprived brain came up with i'M SORRY, as usual minors interacting will be blocked

From the minute that you saw Levi in that god damn suit, you knew you were going to lose it. You already knew that he was going to look stunning, and remembered how peculiar he was when you were shopping for it with him. It had to be the right color, sizing, and the fabric had to be made of the right material. He even bought a matching set of gloves to go with it.

As soon as the photos were done and he walked off-stage, you dragged him away and into his private dressing room. The original plan was to wait until you got home before you tore that suit off him, but you were impatient and ravenous upon seeing him.

"...shit," he cursed to himself, groaning as he felt you drag your tongue from the base of his cock, up his shaft, and to the tip. Your tongue swirled around it twice before you wrapped your lips around him, grabbing onto his shaft with your hand as you began bobbing your head up and down.

It was taking everything in him to keep himself from holding your head down to thrust up into you. Holding himself back was becoming especially difficult, given how much you had been edging him ever since you dragged him offstage.

Every time he felt his abs begin to tense up, he'd feel you stop, giving him a mischievous look as you continued to tease him.

Levi didn't want to immediately fuck you at first. The suit was expensive and dark enough to the point that any mess that you could potentially leave behind would be more than visible—and considering that he still had the latter half of the photoshoot to do, cum stains on his fancy, black suit was not something that he could afford—but you had edged him one too many times, and he felt like he was going to implode if he didn't get to fuck you right then and there.

Using one hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes, he pulled you off him and lifted you, dragging you onto him so that you were straddling him around the chair. Levi impatiently bunched your skirt up above your ass, and pushed your panties to the side, letting out a quiet tut as he felt how wet you were.

He groaned and shut his eyes, resting his head against the wall behind him as he felt you slide onto his cock, your slick inviting him in as you surrounded his cock with your velvety walls.

Following his movements, you began to slowly move up and down on his cock, holding onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

However, your movements clearly weren't fast enough for him, with Levi being more than frustrated from your earlier edging, so his hips almost immediately began bucking up into yours, with his fingers digging into the meat of your ass.

The impact of his hips against yours sent shockwaves throughout your body and Levi was only able to look up into your elated gaze as it got harder for him to stay quiet.

"You fucking minx," he cursed through his teeth, his breathing rapidly destabilizing, "just dragging me backstage and then pulling this shit."

All you could really respond with only included whines and gasps, with it being nearly impossible to speak. Each time his hips met yours, you felt your breath getting knocked out of your lungs and you felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt your legs shaking around him, with that tight knot beginning to form deep within your core.

Levi felt you tightening up around him and gripped onto your hips tighter, holding you in place as he continued to drive his cock up into you, cursing to himself as he felt you gushing around him, only getting closer to his own edge when he heard how hard you were trying to keep quiet.

"Gonna cum into that pretty pussy of yours," he whispered in between breaths. He was getting close and it was driving him through the roof with how many times he had been edged that night. "That's what you wanted, yeah?"

Upon hearing your muffled 'mhm', Levi grit his teeth and slammed into you one final time, letting out a quiet guttural groan as he shot his load into you, with you gasping as you felt his cock twitching deep within you, coating your insides with his seed.

He rested his forehead against yours as he took deep breaths to stabilize himself again, feeling his cum dripping out the side of your pussy and down his cock again. The suit was going to get dirty no matter what he did now. He knew he'd have to get out of this photoshoot and make up some excuse to go home.

Levi finally pulled away, looking into your eyes with an exasperated look before grumbling,

"You're buying me a new suit."

#: @levisbrat25 @moonmalice @cathybarn @tclbts @faverec @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @noctemys @sixpennydame @dumbdollyx @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @lovedbylevi @meltingforthatackerman @chocoyanchan @issacovegx @captainleviswifee @mrsmiagreer @dizzyandkokoo @youre-ackermine @starrylevi join my taglist!

[kaliforniahigh]

MEDUSA - Part Six.

This is the longest chapter so far. Finally they're letting some feelings show :')

Warnings: death threat, curse words, mentions of guns.

WC: 2.8k

Summary: Y/N is a private dancer at a Gentleman's Club called Medusa. Noah Sebastian is a crime boss. Their paths cross when one night, Noah pays for one of her dances and they can't seem to be apart from each other.

Series Masterlist

Noah was sitting on his chair in his office when he heard three knocks on the door. Telling the person behind it to come in, he saw Jolly with an envelope on his hands.

"Hey, this was left on the front door not too long ago. No one saw who delivered it and we didn't want to open it because it's addressed to you", he said, making his way into the office and handing Noah the envelope over the table.

"Well, I don't usually receive letters", he responded, with an edge of suspicion in his voice. "I'm gonna open it. Thank you, Jolly"

The other man nodded, and said if he needed anything, they were available, leaving and closing the door behind him. Noah looked over the envelope, seeing that it was indeed addressed to him, his full name written on the front. Flipping it over, there was nothing else written on the back.

Ripping the envelope open and taking out a piece of paper, he saw it was a handwritten letter. He unfolded it and began to read.

I know what you've been doing, lover boy. To be fair, she is a pretty little thing. I wouldn't be able to let her out of my eyesight either. Is she in your eyesight now? What do you think she is doing? Well, too bad whores don't always have a happy ending. Take care, JC.

Noah was used to receiving threats, they're not uncommon in his life and he has send out a few of his own. But they were always directed at him or one of the boys. But this one was a direct message to you.

His hands were shaking and he had to take his coat off because he suddently felt like he couldn't breath. He had to stop and think about what you were doing right now. It was night and you were probably at work. He had to get there as soon as possible. He couldn't afford to think that it was too late.

Before he got the chance to stand and make his way out, his phone rang. It was you. He picked up in a haste and wasn't able to get a word out before you were talking to him.

"Noah, oh my God. He sent me a threat, here, at work. I don't know what to do", he heard the desperation in your voice and he could tell you've been crying.

"I know, I got one as well. Listen, where are you right now?", he tried to talk as quickly as he can, not wanting to waste anymore time. Already grabbing his coat and wallet, making his way out of the room.

"I'm in the room where I usually meet clients. The envelope was on the chair and no one saw who delivered it. How can people not see someone coming in and out, Noah?", you said in disbelief.

"I need you to stay there. Are there keys on the door for you to lock them?"

"No, they don't leave the keys here for our safety. Noah, are you coming here?", your voice was small and he felt a pang in his chest.

"Yes, I'm on my way, honey. Stay on the phone with me, I'm not hanging up until I get there", he looked around and spotted one of his security guards, demanding that they check the security footage on the front door and yard. Running out of the door and getting in his car.

You went quiet, the only indicator that you were still on the line was your heavy breathing. The sound of a car speeding filling your ears.

"Noah, he called me a whore" you broke the silence and also his heart.

"You're not a whore, he only said those things to get to you. Don't let him get to you", he wished he could teleport to you and engulf you in his arms right this moment.

"He said no one cares about whores like me. I mean, he isn't wrong. All I'm good for is shaking my ass for some cash. If I'm gone tomorrow, they're just gonna replace for another pretty girl", you couldn't help but let your thoughts roam out loud.

"Please, don't say those things about yourself. I care about you and I'm coming to get you and nothing is gonna happen, ok?", you answered softly and he heard you take a sharp intake of breath on the other side. "I'm pulling up outside. I'll be there in a minute, don't worry. Can you meet me at the back entrance?"

"Yeah, I'll get my bag and meet you there", you answered, getting up from your position on the couch.

"Can't you come straight to the back entrance? I don't want you roaming around in there anymore than you need to", he tried not to be too paranoid as to not alarm you anymore. But every second that went by with you not by his side, was another second of him wondering if you were ok.

"Noah, I'm currently wearing a bra and panties. I have to get my bag. I'll stay on the phone", he didn't like it, but agreed nonetheless and told you to be quick.

In about three minutes, he saw you leaving. You spotted his car instantly and ran to it, getting in the passenger seat. He got your bag from your hands and put it in the backseat. You could feel the tension leaving your body as soon as you were in Noah's presence, finally feeling some sense of security.

"Noah, what am I gonna do?", you asked, running your hands over your face.

"You won't have to do anything. This is on me and I'm gonna keep you safe. You won't have to worry about that", you got a good look at him and realized that he actually thought this was his fault.

"This is not on you. I texted you, telling you to come here so I could give you the information. I fell into this by myself", you tried to reason.

"And I went to your house and gave you my number", he was unwavering and you decided that it wasn't worth it arguing about whose fault it was at the moment. "I'm gonna take you to a safehouse. I'm not gonna take you to my house because I got a note delivered there as well, so it isn't 100% safe", you only nodded, trying to grasp how your life did a complete 180 in just a few hours.

As he drove, he made a few calls, informing everyone of what's happened and giving orders of things he needed done. Not too long after, you were leaving civilization behind and all you could see were trees lininig the gravel road.

Noah took a right turn, the forest getting denser now, only giving way to the car driving through the marked path. You looked up through the windshield and you could barely see the sky above the top of the trees.

Stopping at a gate, you noticed a few men around the perimeter, all carrying guns on their hands and their holsters. You tried not to think about it. Just after the gate, Noah parked the car in front of a small wood cabin. Despite all those men outside and the situation you were in, you could admit that the place was beautiful.

Noah got out of the car and you followed suit, you noticed the wind was chilly and the air was clean. You looked up once again and as the trees swished from the gusts of air, you could see the sky was littered with stars.

"It's nice out here. I wish we were here under different circumstances, but I hope you enjoy the scenery anyways", he said, your bag was in his hands and you only nodded and gave a small smile. He led the way to the entrance. The lock was automatic, it read his fingerprint and you heard it unlock. You figured this place was only simple from the outside. It is a safehouse after all.

He got in and dropped your bag on a small table by the door. You looked around and there was a living room to your right and the kitchen to your left, a dining table between the two spaces.

"The bathroom is at the end of the corridor, your room is the door on the left and mine the door on the right", he pointed forward and you could see the doors leading to the rooms and the bathroom.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower", you looked at him and saw that he was taking his coat off, a simple black tank top underneath, revealing his tattooed arms and shoulders. For a second you were distracted by the way he moved. His biceps flexing as he reached up to hang his coat. His hair getting in his face, he pushed it out of his eyes as he turned around to aknowledge you.

"Yeah, are you hungry? I can make us something to eat", he totally caught you checking him out if the smirk on his face was any indicator.

"Sure, I'll be right back", you tried to get out of the situation as fast as possible. You just received a death threat, you did not need to have a crush on this man. Grabbing your bag, you made your way to the bathroom and locked the door.

Noah stayed in the living room, making sure everything was in it's place. He had someone come here and clean up every week, but he still wanted to check. He made his way to the bedroom you were going to be staying at. There were clean sheets and pillowcases already on the bed, so he didn't have to worry abou that.

Opening the fridge he started on the task of making you something to eat. A sub would have to suffice for now. He would get someone to pick up groceries later. He heard the bathromm door open and seconds later you came walking into the living room. You hair was wet and he could smell your perfume freshly applied. You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, looking rather comfortable.

You sat down in one of the chairs on the dining table. "What's on the menu for tonight?", you asked, trying to make light of the situation. You felt safe here and figured there was not much you could worry about for now.

He approached the table with one plate in each hand. "I made us a sandwich, I hope that's okay? I'll get someone to buy groceries so we can eat some actual food", he set one plate in front of you and sat down across the table.

"It's perfect, thank you", you really were grateful and you hoped he knew that. After a couple of bites, you couldn't contain your curiosity any longer. "What's gonna happen now?", you asked him.

"You'll have to stay here until we can get this problem solved", he answered, and you could tell he was holding something back.

"And how are you gonna get this problem solved?", you inquired. You felt like you knew how, but you wanted him to talk to you, you needed some sense of clarity amidst all this darkness.

He sighed out loud, setting his sandwich down on his plate and preparing himself to say this to you. He didn't want you knowing anymore than necessary, but since you were already dragged into this, the least he could do is be sincere with you.

"There's this group, you could say they're our competition. They want to take over the bussiness in the city and in order to do that, they have to eliminate my friends and I", you flinched when said "eliminate", he noticed, but continued nonetheless. "When I went to Medusa the first time we met, it was a recommendation from my friend, he said I needed a scape from this situation. Some of our shipments were stolen, some came with only half of the supplies and others disappeared all together. I was kind of losing my mind"

You were paying close attention to his words, he wasn't specific and you were curious about what they shipped from overseas, but refrained from asking. "That day I went to your house, we were at the port talking to our supplier when their group attacked us. They took us off guard but we were able to get out of there with only minor injuries", you smiled, knowing he was talking about Jolly and the fact that you patched him up that night.

"We think that was a test for what's to come", he said this part lower, half hoping you weren't going to hear him or that you wouldn't question it. That was proved wrong when you asked what that means as soon as the words left his lips.

"We have a big shipment coming soon, the biggest of the year. And we think that what you heard at the club can be a reference to that. They're gonna strike again, but this time they're gonna do it for real"

Noticing you were uneasy about this information, he tried to comfort you. "Thanks to you, now we are prepared and we can anticipate what is coming our way. You really helped us." He reached across the table to take your hand in his and give it a squeeze.

You appreciated the way he always tried to take care of your emotions, and even though you were in this situation now, you decided that you did the right thing by telling him what you heard.

When he went to your house unannounced, it made you so angry that you didn't see the way he took care of people around him. He was there because he was worried about one of his best friends. And now he is here with you because he is worried about you. You felt your heart soften for him more and more.

You both finished your sandwiches in silence, but it was comfortable rather than awkward, and you missed the warmth of his hand on top of yours.

You tried to take the plates to the sink to wash them, but Noah didn't let you, telling you to go to the living room instead, and pick something for you to watch and that he'll join you in a few minutes.

You saw an array of DVD's on the shelves on both sides of the TV. You tried to steer clear of any romantic movies or horror movies, so you picked My Neighbor Totoro, one of your favorites. You heard Noah let a hum of appreciation from behind you, pleased with your choice.

You noticed he sat two blankets on the couch, one for you and one for him. The couch wasn't too big, but still, you sat on one end of it and he sat on the other.

"I wish we had popcorn now", you noted and pouted a little.

"I'll make sure to add it to the list", he chuckled a little at your disappointment towards the lack of popcorn.

You both got quiet and settled into your spots to watch the movie. Halfway through, you could feel you eyelids getting heavier, sleep seeping into your body that has finally calmed down from the events of the day.

Noah looked over at you and saw your eyes closed, soft breaths leaving through your nose. He admired you for a few seconds, looking so soft bundled up under your blanket, so different from the tough woman that greeted him on your doorstep just a couple of days ago.

Het let you nap for a while, not wanting to disturb you, but as he started feeling tired himself, he decided it was smart to move to the bedroom. He tried to shake you awake, calling your name softly, but you stirred a little and went right back to sleep. He smiled to himself.

Decided to not leave you on the couch and risk you waking up with a stiff neck, he grabbed your legs and waist from under the cover, lifting you up with ease and carrying you to the bedroom. You arms instinctively went around his neck and you head rested on his shoulder. He shivered a little from your touch, but tried to not think about it.

You were under so much stress and he didn't want to feel inappropriate around you. You were beautiful and he couldn't deny his attraction towards you. But now wasn't the time to act on it. Maybe when this was all over, you would let him take you out on a date.

Setting you on the bed and covering you from head to toe, he smoothed you hair from your face. He closed the curtains so you wouldn't wake up with the sun in your eyes. Taking one last look at you, he softly closed the door behind him and went to his own room to rest for the night.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @millie-aubs @mostlypanicking @thisbicc @rebelheart90 @moranastray @xmads-omensx @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @skyemanzsstuff @theroyaldixon @mindlesssweets @dravenskye @sundamariis @flowery-mess @badomensls @loeytuan98 @cheyyyyr @dominuslunae @jaded-and-hollow-souls

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Dividers: @cafekitsune

[1dcommunityficrecs]

University AUs!

It's the very first crowdsourced fic rec! We have 23 amazing fics listed here, about the trials and tribulations, the adventures and anarchy, the good decisions and bad decisions and downright terrible decisions that come with post-secondary education. We might have graduated high school, but we still dumb as SHIT.

Please enjoy, share, leave a kudos or a comment -- and get your reccing fingers ready for the next theme!

From Eight Until Late, I Think About You by supernope (35227, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is juggling an English degree at the University of Brighton, a budding YouTube channel, and an intense crush on a fellow YouTuber.

Reccer says: It's so cute watching their feelings and their friendship grow, from flirting in the YouTube comments to texting to finally meeting up in person (oh my god they were (hotel) roommates)

you can hear it in the silence by imogenlee (234857, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

When Harry Styles was accepted into a post-grad degree, he knew he could no longer afford his flat, leaving him with three options: 1) Move back into student halls. 2) Become homeless. 3) Move in with his best (and only) friend, Niall, and three of Niall's other mates. He went with the third option. But it was a close race. Or, two boys couldn't misunderstand each other more, but they want to.

Reccer says: The aaaaangst. The way they can't stop wanting each other despite the misunderstandings.

if it looks like, feels like, tastes like love by tempolarriefics (16600, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

harry and louis hate each other but pretend to date to be able to live in university ‘family housing’, zayn and liam are their nosy next door neighbors, and niall is the friend who made it all happen

Reccer says: this fic is such a cute read and the author included a lot of fun details that also have you cracking up throughout!

High heels on, 'm feeling alive by thebreadvan (14596, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry damages a car when drunkenly stumbling home after a fun night out with his friends. Feeling horribly guilty, he tries to find the owner and make it up to him.

Reccer says: Harry wearing heels <3

Unbelievers by Isthatyoularry (136814, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis have always hated each other. Or not…

Reccer says: Sport AU, enemies to lovers, College AU

Speaking of marvels by Navigator, quitter (100585, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is at university in California. On vacation with his parents in New Jersey, he meets Louis. Their story is only supposed to last through summer

Reccer says: This fic is in my opinion unfairly forgotten these days even though it is a Fandom Classic, just wonderful

Don’t have to go to the pool by Kingsoftheimpossible (40857, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis is the captain of the swim team, Harry is in love with him a bit, and there's this ritual before Big Meets. Everything goes fine.

Reccer says: A simple an effective plot, a joy to read

Search and rescue me by Wildhalos (17423, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Louis never really paid attention to Harry until they get stuck in the locker room together.

Reccer says: The two characters who find themselves stuck in locker rooms, with all the sexual tension that goes with it. Perfect, right?

Your best line ever by Green_feelings (55116, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

University AU, in which Harry has a terrible job and lies about his name to drunk people, Louis is one of the drunk and has to move out of his flat, Liam shaves his hair because he fights with Zayn, Zayn protects Liam from creepy stalkers and Niall always has a solution, because he knows just about every person relevant!

Reccer says: Already, if Green_feelings writes something, we can already be sure that it will be good. This is even more true with a Uni AU

If walls could talk by Wickedarcher_08 (10028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry is in love with his straight best friend. He thinks he doesn't have a chance, until Louis presents him with a challenge he can't refuse.

Reccer says: A short story with a simple, effective plot

My worst Nightmare by BooBear411 (191000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan /Zayn Malik, Harry Styles/OFC)

they’re two students who struggle with what they feel. Harry is bisexual and has a girlfriend in the first part of the fic. They live in the same dorm and basically grow in love slowly, but steadily

Reccer says: Well written, the characters develop very coherently with the plot

Fading by tothemoonmydear (202000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Eating disorder

Harry is a science student, Louis studies fashion and ask Harry to model for him. They get closer and develop a solid crush for each other. Harry gets it that Louis is hiding something and he can feel Louis is not completely open about himself. He will love him unconditionally.

Reccer says: Louis’ eating disorder is depicted in a very thoughtful way

The school of extraordinary lovers by Stylinsoncity (191000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Minor violence, domestic violence, past character death

Harry is a third-year witch and violinist at magical academy, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens

Reccer says: Original plot, writing styles

Blue Moon by aquietlarrie (152907, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Slight mention of death and grief

1950s au - gentle & beautiful coming of age.

Reccer says: So beautifully written, character development, feels like you grow with the characters

Reeling Through The Fall by Zarah5 (40068, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

AU. They hate each other. Except for when they don’t.

Reccer says: Zarah5 is always perfect

Anonymous Said by alivingfire (21158, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry has a crush on the sweet boy who he sends anons on Tumblr. He also has a crush on the cute boy in the bookstore. Fortunately, they're both the same boy and they both like him too.

Reccer says: Watching Louis and Harry fall in love with each other TWICE in the same fic? my crops are watered my skin is clear my cows are fed 18/10 no notes

The First Year by parmahamlarrie (46972, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry and Louis are roommates, sunshine and punk AU.

Reccer says: The way they get together through it all, and the fluff that comes after *chef's kiss*

knock knock, I love you by beautlouis (86066, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. Harry's a virgin, there's a cat, a hot cocoa date, a lot of sex, even more knock knock jokes, and everything is lovely and happy.

Reccer says: It's wonderfully cheesy and fun! The perfect fluff! Just adorable, fluffy fic and a real serotonin boost

painted on jeans by QuickedWeen (6822, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Girl Direction sorority au, friends to lovers, perfect mix of fun and hot!

Reccer says:

like fires in the night by coldflasher (138520, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Drug and alcohol use

Louis' got a secret stash of weed under the floorboards, his grades are going to shit and his mates keep getting pissed. There are secret passageways in the wardrobes and he can't stop thinking about the mysterious Harry.

Reccer says: a brilliant blend of absolute hilarity, angst and a whole lot of Very Bad Decisions.

Red Brick Heart by hazmesentir (98194, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn't expect is a surprise roommate who's loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he's ever wanted.

Reccer says: It has been a long time, but I remember loving this story quite a lot. Well written.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante (112853, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Homophobia, sharing of nude photos without consent, bullying

American Uni AU. Louis hates football players and Harry. Harry doesn't know why. Through a bet Harry and Louis get closer, but the bet might be what breaks them apart too

Reccer says: I liked Harry and Louis dynamic

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 (208589, Not Rated, Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles, Liam Payne/Zayn Malik, Niall Horan/Josh Devine) Warnings: Religious trauma, conversation therapy, homophobia/internalised homophobia, OCD and self harm

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Reccer says: The dynamic between the characters, Harry's character in general and also the random famous people in the story

[theaceace]

I'm still thinking about this and people seem to like it so here's some more thoughts, also this is getting its own post now as a follow up to this

Dream is the prince of stories and so he knows already how this story is going to end. How it always ends.

He was there, after all, the first time it was lived, the first time it was told, and heard, and sung, and wept over, and dreamt of. And not only that, but he knows every variation - and there have been so many of them over the years. So many twists and turns that have been dreamt of - so many of them by over a thousand people, until all of them were as true as each other from the beginning to the end. The stories are contradictory, but that doesn't matter. They can all be true nonetheless, and not even Dream knows now which was the original.

(He could know. It would be so easy to know. It must be there within the library - within him - gathering dust. He didn't look, even when he could. He chose not to)

There are worlds in which Orpheus looks back in doubt, in which he is afraid that he has been tricked and his love is still deep in Hades. There are versions that have him unable to bear Eurydice's cries, her wails of anguish, and he turns to comfort her even knowing that it will be their doom. There are tales that have him reach the living world, and in his exultation turn to help Eurydice a moment too soon. There are poems in which he looks back believing he is saving them, and songs in which he knows he is dooming them.

Dream wonders, as he follows silently behind Hob, which version this shall be. Just when his old, old friend will succumb to the tale, as he inevitably must. Will they make it as far as the door - will Dream be afforded a glimpse of sunlight, after a century of the dark? Will he see beyond Hob, for that single moment as he turns in the doorway, see out to the Waking, or to his own realm?

Or will Hob surrender before then? He has made it much further than so many of the others, his back straight and his steps sure. He had marched so confidently from the basement that Dream might have been able to overlook the way his hands trembled. The Dreaming will not make it easy - and Dream has not the power to control it while he is still bound within the narrative. The path through the house is clear, but it is long and circuitous - far more so than its Waking counterpart. Hob does not falter at each twist and turn, but Dream knows there will be other tricks and traps.

(Hob hears voices calling from the other room. He hears Eleanor, hears Robyn, hears the voices of all those he has loved and lost in his long life. They cry out to him, beg him to bring them back too, ask him why he didn't ask the Dream Lord for them to be returned to life. You could have asked for anything - why didn't you ask for me?

Because you're gone. Because I loved you and lost you and mourned you and still I chose to live without you! He doesn't call back. Because my friend is the only person I have never had to lose or leave behind! The voices stop eventually, and the house is silent once more but for a single set of footsteps)

(Once, he hears Dream's voice, begging him to turn and look, please, won't Hob look at him? And Hob only scoffs, because even bound naked and caged for over a century, his friend had not begged for Hob's help. He can't imagine his arrogant old stranger ever begging for anything at all. And so, the house falls silent)

Dream had never thought overmuch about the path Eurydice walked as she followed his son from the depths of Hades. Had she wanted to leave that place, as Dream does? Had she felt some piece of herself returning with each dogged step, or had she followed because the gods willed it, and so she obeyed? She had dreamt often of Orpheus, of their life together - she must have loved him then, while she still lived. Had she loved him then, when he came to fetch her, though she was but a cold shade of herself? (She must have, she must have, she must have, Dream thinks, staring at Hob's back. How could she not, when he was the first warmth she had known in that place?)

Had she known? As they climbed, and she stared at her lover (Dream's son) had she known then that it was futile? Had it mattered to her, or had she been content knowing that Orpheus loved her enough to defy the underworld? Had she watched his back as they walked, and known that the next time she saw his face would be the last? She must have forgiven him, of that Dream is sure. She must have understood.

(Dream has already forgiven Hob for his failure. He knows not when it will come, only that it must, and he isn't angry. This story is as much a part of him as any other - how could he resent Hob for playing his part in it so beautifully?)

Dream has never regretted, before, his reticence when Eurydice still lived. He thinks of his son and the mortal girl he had loved, staring at his dear friend's back, and is unsurprised to find himself crying.

Once, as they draw close to the end, he sees Alexander Burgess watching them from behind a half-closed door. He doesn't know if Hob sees him, doesn't know if his steps are unfaltering through sheer force of will. Alexander watches, his facade flickering between that of an old man, the timid thing that had shot Jessamy at the heart of Dream's prison, and the quaking child that had first followed his father through to the basement of the Dreaming house. Dream cannot harm him, of course. As a young man he had asked for safety, and so safety he would have until he left this place, after spending years glancing back like a hunted animal. Even if there should come a time that Dream is freed, he will not break that vow, and Alex will remain as trapped by his cowardice as he ever was.

But - oh. There it is. The door - he had been distracted, and by the time he looks forward again, they have reached it. Hob reaches for the handle, and still he hasn't looked back. He pulls the door open, and still he hasn't looked back. He steps out, into weak morning sunlight, and still he hasn't looked back. He stands, unmoving apart from the way his clenched fists shake, and still he hasn't looked back.

Dream stands, frozen, in the shadows of the doorway, staring out over the threshold. At the light, at the freedom, so very close. A few steps, nothing more. He doesn't understand - this is never how the story goes. All the dreamers that tried to bend it to their will (the idiots that had given it a happy ending) and inevitably it had returned to its true form, over and over. This isn't... He doesn't...

His throat works, his jaw moves, his voice is thick.

"Hob?" He doesn't understand, he doesn't -

And Hob -

End title

[certifiedtrashmouth]

Oh gosh I don’t wanna repeat someone and I’m not sure about Xmas traditions but what about ridiculous stocking stuffers w Eddie? Fluff/humor.

oh, god. this one also got out of hand. started in light-hearted fun and ended in fluff that had me screaming into my pillow. i'm sorry for the length.

good for one kiss (eddie munson x reader)

warnings: none really. mentions of penis??? (eddie makes a joke about his dick and there's mention of a blowjob but no description lol), mentions of cigarettes, idiots in love. best friends to lovers.

“What am I supposed to do with a single piece of gum?” 

“What am I supposed to do with a single cigarette?” 

“Smoke it, idiot.”

“It’s broken, idiot.” 

“Oh.” 

You and Eddie sit cross-legged across from each other on his bed on Christmas Eve, partaking in your annual gift exchange. But there was a catch; each year, you exchanged stockings, only gifting each other what you could fit in the glorified, fleece-lined socks. There had only been two exceptions to the rule of the years - the year you’d gifted Eddie his first professional-grade amp and he’d bawled like a baby (once he’d dried his tears, he’d threatened you and Wayne both endlessly about ever letting the story leave the room. The two of you had exchanged a look, though, knowing neither of you would ever let him live it down.) and the year Eddie had bought you your first acoustic six-string with the promise of lessons from him (it was onyx black and shined with promise as Eddie explained the two of you needed to use paint markers to decorate it). 

It was going on five years of the tradition that had stemmed from both of you never being able to afford much for each other, but still wanting to show you care nevertheless. And as the years had gone on, the gifts had slowly found their rhythm. There was always a perfect mixture of cliche throwaway gifts, gag gifts, and gifts so sentimental that some tears were sure to be shed by one of the parties. 

“I didn’t think it would break,” you scrunch your nose slightly as Eddie holds up the cigarette, limp from the crack in the middle of it. 

“What did you expect, just throwing it in here like that?” Eddie laughs, not bothered in the slightest. He had a pack of Camels snug in the pocket of his leather jacket slung over his desk chair. It was the thought that counted, after all. 

“I expected it to be absolutely fucking invincible for how expensive the pack was,” you whine, and he can’t help but watch you with bemusement, “I spent my last dollar from my tips on that damn pack.” 

The mention of that softens the look in Eddie’s eyes. He knew the two of you struggled to come up with enough money to even keep up this tradition; he had hardly seen you due to how many spare shifts you’d been picking up at Benny’s the last few weeks. 

You catch the look, immediately straighten up, “No, no, no. Don’t even go there, Munson. I can see you going there. Come back to me, idiot.” 

Idiot. The term of endearment you’d coined for him since you’d first met in sophomore year of high school. He’d heard it in a dozen different tones - elated, annoyed, exhausted - but not a single one held an ounce of genuine negativity towards him. You made idiot sound like my love. 

He wasn’t your lover, though. He kicked himself in the shins every morning over it, always telling himself that today was the day and I’m going to tell her how I feel finally. 

Spoiler alert. He never did. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he offers up his own loving nickname for you, “I just know you’ve been busting your ass at Benny’s-” 

“Yes, I have, because I want to spoil you for the holidays. I don’t regret a single second of it. Even when those creepy old men tried to shove the dollar bills in my shirt rather than just hand them to me.”

You both laugh at the memory. It hadn’t been very funny when it happened, leading to you calling Eddie crying and him coming to your rescue, but enough time had passed to see the humor in it all. 

The rest of the gift exchange goes as expected for the most part. The gag gifts pull the appropriate amount of laughter, and the more genuine gifts pull a softness out of each other that nearly had each of your eyes’ pupils forming hearts. 

Eddie fawns over a pack of pics you’d had customized with Corroded Coffin’s logo, and you react just as bluntly as expected when you pull a long red candle from your stocking, looking up to Eddie blankly. 

“For when I finally sacrifice you in the woods,” he explains with a cheesy grin, “Gotta have candles if we’re going to worship Satan, sweetheart.” 

“Ha-ha,” you dead pan, tilting your head slightly as you keep a straight face, completely unimpressed, “You’re hilarious, Munson.” 

“Hey, I could have made a sex joke,” he throws up his hands in a defensive manner, shrugging his shoulders and looking to the ground in faux shyness. 

“Yeah, yeah - you could have made a sex joke,” you mumble as you shove the candle to the side, a smile still escaping the corners of your mouth. 

“As a matter of fact, I still can. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fact that you replaced my stocking this year, darling, and that it’s noticeably larger. Finally big enough to fit over my massive dic-” 

“You’re disgusting,” you interrupt, grabbing the candle and now whacking one of his knees with it, making him fall victim to an uncontrollable giggling fit, “Have you ever been told that? Let me be the first to tell you - you’re absolutely vile, Edward Munson.” 

You don’t mean it, and he knows you don’t. You’re both laughing too much over it. 

You’re starting to get to the bottom of the stockings now. You each have an odd arrangement of candy that had been included in each respective stocking - Eddie is socking on a blue jolly rancher, being sure to make annoying slurping noises to get a rise out of you, as you nibble on a miniature candy cane. There’s only one gift left in your stocking, a small box that you only reach for once you rewrap the candy cane in the plastic wrap it’d come in that you’d saved to avoid getting sticky fingers. 

“What’s this?” you ask, pulling it out and letting the empty stocking fall into your lap. 

Eddie looks up from where he was preoccupied with attempting to open another jolly rancher. His eyes light up from the present in your palm, “Oh, only saving the best one for last, sweet thing.” 

You look at him questioningly, but begin to slide your finger under the delicate edge of the small box regardless. It takes concentration to pry open the box without tearing it, but you do, you gasp. 

In a bed of cotton, there’s a necklace. 

It looks like a copy of Eddie’s signature pick necklace. But instead of the dark swirling black between clouds of burgundy red, it shines with pearlescent opal white and ruby red, glimmering on a silver chain as if it were made of jewels. 

When you gently lift it from the box, it’s clear it’s not a real pick. It’s heavier - Hell, it might actually be made of gemstones. 

“Eddie-” you gasp, cutting yourself off, mesmerized by the beauty. 

He’s nearly shaking with delight, “It’s a locket. Look, open it.” 

You see what he means immediately, realizing that the weight was from the thickness of the faux pick. There’s a subtle seam, with a silver lock on the side that clicks gently when you press on it. The locket swings open, and inside is a snug photo of you and Eddie. You can pinpoint exactly when the photo was taken; it was at your birthday party two years ago, both of you laughing with cake icing on the tips of your nose. The photo is in dramatic black and white, but you can still picture how obnoxiously red your cheeks were with Eddie’s arm slung around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you two lost it over God knows what. 

You feel yourself beginning to tear up, completely stunned, “I- Oh my God, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start with how I’m the best friend ever,” he cheekily grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you let out a breathless laugh. 

“It’s…God, it’s beautiful. This- This is too much, Eddie. I can’t imagine how expensive-”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, waving his hands frantically, refusing to listen to your lecture. He didn’t care if it had cost him everything he owned, down to the clothes on his back - it was worth it to see that look on your face. “Don’t even start, sweetheart. One of Wayne’s friends at the plant has a wife who makes jewelry for a living. We got the family discount because she thought the idea was so dang adorable,” his voice pitches to mock the mystery woman, and it makes you tearily laugh some more. 

You look back down at the open locker, finger tracing over the opposite side from the photo. 

E. It’s engraved in cursive. As if you’d ever forget the initial of the boy in the photo - the boy in front of you. 

“You really had to choose the photo that made me look like a dork, didn’t you?” you softly tease under your breath, staring at the memory in unfiltered fondness. 

“Someone’s got to keep you humble,” he retorts. 

You ignore his comment, standing quickly and holding the necklace out to him, “Help me put it on?” 

He doesn’t hesitate to leap off the bed to your side, taking the chain gingerly before you turn and face your back to him. His movements are careful and deliberate as he brushes your hair off to the side, cold fingers skimming over your skin and sending shivers down your spine before he loops the necklace around the front of your chest. You can feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp for a few moments before finding success. 

“Aha! Perfect,” he claps as you spin around, grinning giddily at the weight that sits naturally between your collarbones. It gives you a sense of security, a sense of comfort, a sense of home. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you earnestly say, voice crumbling with emotions as your smile shines and you lift a hand to pinch the necklace between two fingers. The locket is smooth as you rub over it, “I love it.” 

His face reflects your happiness right back before you suddenly throw yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He returns it immediately, squeezing you back just as strongly. You both melt into the hug, comfortable as you eventually beginning to just-barely-sway in the middle of Eddie’s room, chests pressed together as hearts beat in sync. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair before placing a chaste kiss on your temple. 

“Merry Christmas, Eds.” 

You finally pull away, both of you returning to your original positions on the bed. Gifts are scattered around you, mixing with candy and wrappers, as Eddie pulls up his stocking and begins to shake it upside down. 

“There’s not any more gifts, Eddie, you already opened them-” you cut yourself off, the smile that had your cheeks aching still fading when a piece of paper flutters from his stocking. 

Oh no. 

“No more gifts, you say?” he smirks in your direction, picking up the folded note, “What’s this, then?” 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’d forgotten about that. When you’d been wrapping Eddie’s gifts the night before, Robin had joined you to keep you company. The two of you had broken into a few bottles of wine around the house when you had a bright idea (at least, at the time it seemed bright. Now, it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. Ever.). Coupons for Eddie, ranging from redemption for kisses to redemption for more… explicit acts. To be fair, Robin had egged you on, knowing of your hopeless crush of two years on your best friend. You’d folded each ‘coupon’ and sealed them with kisses from red lipstick the two of you had dug out of your desk drawers. You’d chickened out when the buzz from the wine faded, and pulled all of the ridiculous notes out before properly filling the stocking with his actual gifts. 

Or at least, you thought you’d gotten all of the notes out. Clearly, you hadn’t. 

“Don’t open that!” you blurt out, lurching forward and attempting to snatch the paper from Eddie. It only makes his smirk grow, hand shooting out away from you, glancing wildly between you and the kiss-stained paper. 

“Now you’ve really got me curious,” he mocks, pulling a face at you as he brings the paper back to his face, beginning to unfold it. 

“No, Eddie, seriously, don’t read it. Please. It was so stupid, I- Robin and I were drinking, and I just…” you trail off in your explanation as he completely disregards you and his eyes trail over your scribbled words. 

You didn’t even know which one had been left behind. You could only hope it was one of the less vulgar ones. 

“Is this a joke?” he asks softly. You’re shocked - you’d expected merciless teasing. Not whatever look was currently in his eyes. 

“What?” you ask, trying to peer over to see what the paper said. Depending on which dumb coupon it was, your answer would change, “I- Sort of. Maybe. No. I don’t know.” 

You begin to wring your hands in your lap, waiting for him to respond. You felt so nauseated you considered escaping to the bathroom. Maybe you could die of embarrassment in the Munson men’s bathtub. 

But then you remember it’s the Munson men’s bathtub, and decide the better fate may lay here, Eddie glancing up at you with moving curiosity, eyebrows furrowed. 

Your cheeks burn crimson as you wish for the Earth to swallow you whole. 

“Yes or no? Is it a joke?” he asks again, a stern tone that manages to not come across angry. 

Your stomach and chest twist in sync, “No. It isn’t a joke.” 

Suddenly, Eddie is taking the note and thrusting it towards you, eyes blown wide and chest heaving. 

“Then I’d like to redeem it now, please.” 

You don’t realize it, but the room had started spinning the moment Eddie had read what was written down. It felt like a dream - a dream he’d indulged in with no hopes of it ever coming true for an embarrassingly long amount of time now. 

Your hands shake as you reach out to take the note from him, and you look down to see just how much drunk you had screwed you over in this moment. 

In your messy handwriting, it reads: Coupon for Eddie Munson - good for one (1) kiss. To be redeemed at Eddie’s discretion. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful it wasn't a vulgar one, before the reality of what Eddie had just requested hits you.  

“Did you just- did you just say you want to redeem it now?” 

Eddie nods, a determined look crossing his face, “Yes, please.” 

You both stare at each other for a moment, letting the emotions in the air sink in. It takes a moment before you both break out into withheld, shy smiles. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Before you can overthink it, you’re both leaning forward, Eddie’s hands cupping your cheeks as his lips meet yours tenderly. It’s just a peck, nothing more, but it sends your heart into cardiac arrest. You can still taste the jolly ranchers on his lips, and he tastes the sweet mint of the candy cane on yours. 

You both pull back slightly, his hands not leaving your face, knees pressing together. Your eyes had fluttered close, and you don’t have the guts to open them quite yet and face the consequences of what had just happened between the two of you. 

“I like you,” you admit quietly, your entire body tensing as you await rejection.

It doesn’t come. Instead, you’re met with the sound of Eddie’s gentle voice, “I like you, too.” 

Your eyes finally spring open to already find him staring at you with adoration. “You do?” 

“Of course I do, sweetheart. I let you touch my first sweetheart. I only give that privilege to the prettiest of girls,” he laughs, eyes flickering to your lips but still keeping his distance. 

“You’ve only let me have that privilege.” 

“Exactly.” 

He finally closes the distance again, lips slotting against yours as if they’re meant to be. Something clicks in the Universe, something that says that this is right and meant to happen. Two years of silent and hopeless pining, only to find out both your feelings were returned. It leaves the two of you delirious as you both deepen the kiss. Somehow, Eddie ends up scooting up his bed until his back meets the wall where his headboard would be if he had one, you straddling his lap. It’s all still so innocent; just the two of you, soft and sickly sweet kisses as you hold one another as if you expect the other to vanish. 

“Merry Christmas, Eds,” you repeat your earlier statement and reach up to his gifted locket on instinct now. It feels right. You and him this close, you and him kissing, the photo of you resting against your chest where it belongs. 

“Best Christmas ever,” he chuckles before he captures you in another kiss. 

He’s right. It’s safe to say the two of you struggle to ever top that Christmas. You make it a running joke to always include coupons in his stocking from that year on. Each year, the coupons get better, sometimes raunchy and sometimes just downright adorable. 

Good for one cuddle. 

Good for one blowjob (don’t waste it).

Good for one surprise date night. 

They’re always fairly clever, and each year, he thinks you get closer to topping that first note. 

But it’s not until years down the road, when the two of you sit across from each other in your now shared living room, in some big city you now call home, that he knows that he had finally topped that year. The look on your face when you dig into the bottom of your stocking, finding the small box that contains the diamond ring he’d been saving up for ever since that first kiss, tells him everything he needs to know. 

It’s still pretty nice when he hears you squeal yes out loud, though.