#so they could push... other random singles teams....

[beelmons]

How to shut a genius up.

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

cw: face riding, i think that's it?

Spencer is, gently put, annoying.

But well, aren't we all at times? At least, he's annoying for all the right reasons. Rampant mind eager to share an endless stream of knowledge, well-deserved validation of his own extraordinary skills, pinkish lips that spoke their mind without concern, words were a tool he used for good, never with an ounce of malice.

It seemed to you that talking was all he knew. No matter how much you rubbed your hand on his thigh at the bar the team went to, or that asked him for his shower after a drunk man dropped an entire yard of beer on your clothes, or the fact that you were standing in his livingroom with only a towel wrapped around your body, and how you were paying no mind to whatever he was saying and your eyes were fixed on his mouth, the same mouth you had been craving for quite a while now.

"...and that's why, although I'm not a fan of digital encyclopedias, Wikipedia can actually be considered a reliable source of information. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that the referenciation of other related concepts makes it the most efficient learning tool of the century."

Little did you know, he had begun his little rant in an attempt to keep himself distracted from your nudeness beneath the fabric that covered you. Trying to keep the blood from flowing too much to the south.

"You talk too much." you blurted out.

"Sorry?" he asked in confusion "What are you—?"

Your actions, as was your wording, were automatic. You took a couple of steps forward and faintly heard his inquiring voice in the background, but you didn't quite care. You were aiming for a goal: to make him shut up. Your lips attached to his in a frustrated kiss, arms wrapping around his neck.

He was dubfounded to a point where his movements also became clumsy, he stepped on a random book that was misplaced and lost his balance. His hands had gripped onto your sides, so you couldn't help but to fall onto the ground along with him.

The rucks caused him to wince in discomfort, a sensation the only lasted about the three seconds that took him to open his eyes. Due to the angle, you had given an extra step and fallen a couple more centimeteres forward, your towel spread open, and your stomach at the same level of his eyes.

While you yourself figured out what was going on, a sudden rush of embarassment overtook you. Logically, since you were now bare naked hovering over your crush.

"Shit!" you yelled out as you were on your knees and palms on the ground "I'm so sorry, Spencer, I don't know what took over me!"

Beridden by anguish, instead of taking the sensible action of rolling off of him, you tried to crawl your way forward. What you didn't see coming, however, was the fact that, as your knees pressed next to his head when you tried to drag yourself from his sight, his hands would press against your thighs to stop you.

Your core was now loitering over his face, out in the open for his eyes to devour. For once, he had found himself amiss of words. You, on your part, were hot to your face with shyness. This had not been what you planned when you decided to kiss him, certainly. Although, such train of thought would be shortly stopped by Spencer himself.

His arms curled around your thighs instead and gently tugged them down; by the time to were 'sitting' on his face, his tongue was already out. The feeling of his muscle entering you caused a loud, startled gasp from you, and before you could get used to the sensation, it traveled further up to your clit.

"Spencer..." you whimpered slightly at the pleasure he was giving you.

You decided to straighten your back to be fully sitting, and in this new position you were in control of your own hips, same that began to rock back and forth against his lips. On his part, single grunts of delight could be heard, his hands positioned themselves at your buttocks, helping you push your body against his face.

His mouth was eager to taste more of you, you could feel the entirety of it working it's way around your pussy, his lips slurping the juices that dripped from you out of arousal. Your hands curled on his hair to prevent you from falling to the side, given that your legs were about close to giving in.

His nose and chin did their part as well, touching nerves that would be otherwise unattended in any other position. The rubbing and moiture of his abused face were sending waves of intense pleasure through out your body, in fact, at some point you sort of forgot he was there, eyes tight shut, just using him to get yourself off.

Hence, why when you finally reached your climax, you came without restraint all over him. His tongue didn't start working inspite of your body falling limp forward, he was set on cleaning the mess he had created.

You whined in complaint at the slight overstimulation, and he took it as a sign to push you off, causing you to roll over as you should initially have. Instead of moving away from you, his face was buried between your legs the instead he was on his stomach, hardworking tongue lazily tasting around your entrance.

"You finally shut up." your back arched as you breathed out, bracing yourself of the next round you quickly understood was coming.

"I have an enough good reason to."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid blurb #blurb: mine #blurb: spencer #blurb: criminal minds #blurb: smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds

[foreveralbon]

Hey, could you write one where y/n is in a long distance relationship with Logan Sargeant. Like when it’s off season she still is in a different country and she decides to surprise him at a Grand Prix and he has no clue but the team helps her

All fluff please ❤️

thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

back in his arms - ls2

the side of your bed that is normally warmed by logan’s body is occupied by the still figures of your cat rupert and his dog coco. rupert’s small head is resting on your stomach as you stroke your finger up and down his nose, and coco is curled up at your feet.

your phone brightens up your dark bedroom and logan is watching you fondly from the other side of the tiny screen.

“show me rupert,” he demands, propping his phone up so he can watch you at a normal angle.

“what? have you gotten sick of my face or something?” you accuse him with a laugh.

but you still tilt the screen to show logan, who coos at the sight of your cat. rupert meows before turning his body so that he faces away from you.

“now look what you did, you scared him off!”

he just laughs and insists that it was you. the screen is so bright that you squint when it glares in your eyes, and logan tells you to turn the light on and your brightness down before you hurt your eyes.

“i can’t be bothered to.”

he just rolls his eyes, feigning dismissal though he already knew what your response would be. there’s something about the fact that he’s trying to recreate everyday life with you over the phone - teasing comments, cuddles in bed, bullying your pets, random conversations at the most random times. it has you feeling giddy inside, and it’s more than enough to keep you satisfied for now. at least until the next time you see him, which, if things go your way, won’t be too far long.

“you’re wearing my jumper,” he notes. “are you cold?”

“no. why so many questions today?”

“just wanna look after you. it’s the next best thing i can do considering i’m not with you.”

and it quite probably is the next best thing he can do - he’s in las vegas, with drunk people stumbling down sidewalks, with men who’ve gambled big and loss hard and with led billboards blinding his sight everywhere he goes, while you lay at home in bed, smothering yourself in every single thing of his you can find - his clothes, his blanket, his cologne.

you’re wearing his hoodie now, sleeves tugged down to your fingers and hoodie strings tied to below your chin. you look warm and cozy and logan wants nothing more than to be with you in that moment.

“i know, lo. i want you here more than anything too.”

“i wish you could’ve come with me.” he hasn’t stopped saying that since he first called you half an hour ago, eyes drooped with sleep and lips pouted as he tried to imagine you beside him.

i know, is all you say. and seeing as how there’s an unread message from alex albon asking you what time your flight lands in nevada, and your suitcase is sitting in the corner of your room, packed full of clothes and necessities for both you and your boyfriend, it’d be quite embarrassing for you if you rocked up to quali to surprise your boyfriend only for him to not want you there.

truthfully, the only reason you’re wearing his hoodie is to hide the plane clothes that you wear beneath - though, you’re not too sure why he hasn’t questioned the hoodie despite the fact he knows it’s hot out.

“i’ll be there for abu dhabi,” you promise, and he nods before blowing a kiss goodbye through the screen.

your room is shrouded in darkness when he hangs up - you really should open up the blinds or turn the lights on, but the thought is pushed to the back of your mind by the bubbling anticipation in your stomach at the idea of seeing logan before the end of the day.

—

your flight had been delayed. one hour, two hours, three hours and your nails would have started bleeding if it had been delayed an hour extra.

you’d planned it in your head - if the flight leaves at three, you get there by seven and have some time to yourself before going to track and surprising logan. that was the one thing that didn’t go your way.

now, it’s 10:30pm and you’re rushing your way through the paddocks, praying that you make it to catch a glimpse of logan driving.

lily’s trailing behind you, hand gripped tightly in yours so as not to lose you. she’d picked you up from the hotel, freshly ironed clothes in hand because she’d known you wouldn’t have time to prepare your own yourself. you arrive in the williams garage with 15 minutes to spare.

james greets you with a hug before doing the same to lily, and you move to stand behind him. someone comes up to you both, offering you a headset, and almost immediately, logan’s voice comes flooding in. his familiar drawl, though strained with effort from racing, has your blood pumping. you’re here, he’s here, and you’re only minutes away from being back in his arms.

“how are we doing?”

“good,” james replies. “if you push, you can set a much faster lap time.”

there’s a bite of determination in logan’s tone when he replies with a firm “will do” and you just know he’s about to try his hardest. your eyes follow the little blue dot on the screen that’s supposed to be him and there’s so much happening on the screens that you don’t know what to focus on.

but it’s when he sets a lap time that puts him in p7 - and with alex, both williams in the third row for the race - that sets your blood alight, celebrations erupting from the whole garage. lily cheers for both alex and logan and pulls you in for another hug.

“great job, everyone,” logan says, voice crackly over the radio one last time as he pulls into the pit lane. “that was for my girl, i hope she was watching.”

you can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks, hiding from the gaze of every proud team member who watches you in place of your boyfriend.

logan’s car comes rolling into the garage and you step into view when he jumps out. it takes a moment for him to go around, accepting congratulations, and well done’s, and good luck’s from the team. it’s only when he turns around to place his helmet on the closest table that he spots you, a proud smile stretching your face and his jacket hung over your shoulder to shield you from the cold las vegas air.

he freezes. he raises his hand, half-pointing to you, like he’s asking if everyone else can see you too. alex just laughs and pushes him forward.

logan’s hands come up to squish your cheeks, jaw dropped in disbelief as his eyes scour your face as though to check that you’re really real. “you came here and surprised me. you were at home this morning.”

“i did. i was.”

he falters over his words, kissing you between each stutter. around you, everyone goes from watching you to busying themselves, giving you as much privacy as possible in a crowded room. “how?”

“alex and lily coordinated flights and timing, james hooked me up with a hotel room. you have to thank them.”

“i will,” he nods. “you’re here.”

“i am,” you whisper. he holds your gaze now, sky blue eyes spilling every untold i love you, i miss you, i’m never leaving you again in yours. “you did so well, logan. i’m so proud of you.”

his face splits into a bright grin. “it’s ‘cause you’re here, now. and i talked to you earlier. kinda like you’re my lucky charm.”

“i like the sound of that.”

“don’t ever let me be alone again, okay?”

“i promise.”

author’s note: sped through that second half so i could have it out in time to manifest a good quali for logan

@namgification @queen-aria-things @lipringlrh let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

#liyah writes #logan sargeant fanfiction #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #formula one x you #formula one x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #logan sargeant

[barcaatthemoon]

vacation || jenni hermoso x reader||

i am back with another little fic. this one is smutty. thank you for reading. there's not really a plot to this, just some soft smut.

minors do not interact, 18+

jenni stirred on the hammock beside you. whenever you had laid down and subsquently fallen asleep, jenni had been out in the water with the rest of her teammates. you had snuck away onto the balcony overlooking your private beach area. this resort was nice, and jenni had splurged to make sure that it was the best possible vacation for the two of you.

she had been very clear in communicating to you that after the first couple of days, she would be all yours. a few of her teammates stayed longer than just the weekend, but you didn't mind letting jenni run around and have fun with them. you liked the chance to sit on the balcony tanning or the random shopping trips that jenni would send you on to keep you busy.

"corazon, stay here," jenni mumbled as she pulled you closer against her body. it was then that you realized just how much skin was pressed against your body. you still had your bikini on, but jenni's top had been discarded on her way over towards you.

"i just want to stretch out a little," you told her. jenni huffed, but let you go. no matter how badly she may have wanted you to stay right by her side, jenni never physically held you back. you were always free to make your own decisions, which was how the two of you ended up playing soccer on opposite ends of the world. the distance was difficult, but jenni knew how much you enjoyed helping to push up smaller teams.

you sat up in the hammock to stretch out your arms and shoulders. behind you, jenni's eyes traced the lines of muscle definition in your back. the two of you had known each other for a long time, having played on the same youth teams growing up, and jenni couldn't believe that after all that time, you were finally hers.

"te amo," jenni muttered as she leaned forward to press a kiss to your back. slowly, you could feel jenni sit up behind you. her arms snaked around your waist as her hands fell to your thighs. you knew what was coming, mainly because it had happened every single day since you arrived at the resort.

jenni didn't move her hands until you spread your thighs for her. you could feel her smile against your skin as she pressed her lips against your shoulder. jenni trailed her fingers over your center through your bathing suit bottoms, which did little to nothing as a barrier between your skin and hers. your voice caught in your throat, cut off by a soft moan as jenni started to put a little extra pressure.

"do you like that corazon?" jenni asked you. she knew the answer already, but she liked to watch as your ability to focus melted away. you opened your mouth to tell her how much you liked the way that she was touching you when her fingers finally pushed past the bottoms.

"fuck, jenni," you moaned. jenni was smirking in between the kisses she was placing along your neck. she lifted her head just enough to nip just below your ear. you let out a little squeal and jumped back, placing yourself further onto jenni's lap. this way, it was much easier for jenni push her fingers into your entrance.

"you are so wet. surely it can't just be from this, i've barely touched you. were you thinking about me in your dreams?" jenni asked you. jenni was the girl of your dreams, quite literally. you had spent countless nights dreaming of her, especially since the two of you had been separated. jenni knew that, often teasing you about it on your facetime calls. "answer me, baby."

"yes, you're all i dream about jenni," you replied. your voice was breathy, and each word was a struggle to form. jenni loved hearing you try to speak whenever she had you so worked up. it was somewhat cruel, but you'd take that any day over some stupid showing of strength. jenni was a very dominant lover, but her dominance came with a softness and harmlessness that made you feel safe inside.

"i dream about you too. do you want to know what i dream about?" jenni asked. her fingers grazed over your entrance, spreading some of the wetness that threatened to drip in the space between your bodies.

"yes. yes, please," you breathed out. jenni knew that you weren't necessarily directly answering her question, but she would keep talking. she knew firsthand the things that her voice could do to you. it went beyond simple praises and the occasional teasing degradation. jenni knew how effective it could be to chat you up while she buried her fingers or strap deep inside of you.

"i dream about how perfect it feels to slip my fingers inside of you when you're wet." jenni slid two fingers inside of you with ease before she continued, "you feel so much better than i could ever imagine, always better than i remember. you've got such a greedy little cunt, always taking what i give while you beg for more."

"do you want me to beg?" you asked. jenni shook her head behind you. she placed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, one that felt different than the rest of the kisses. your skin would be marked up so badly that you doubted it'd go away before your next game. your teammates would definitely see it at practice and tease you later, but you didn't mind. there was nothing shameful about having a partner who was madly in love with you, both physically and emotionally.

"not on vacation. here, the both of us get exactly what we want, and i want to feel you cum all over my fingers," jenni cooed. the sound of her voice sent chills down your spine. it wasn't going to take long for you to cum, a fact that jenni knew as she moved her other hand from your hip down to your clit.

"jenni, i'm gonna cum," you warned her. jenni was careful to keep her movements consistent as she felt you clench around her fingers. you came with a small gush and piercing cry that you were sure someone else had to have heard. jenni kept both of her hands between your legs, so your cries of pleasure were free to echo out into the open space.

"that's it, get it out. you did so good for me corazon. i am proud of you." jenni placed a soft kiss against the side of your face after each of her little praises. your body slumped back against hers completely, exhaustion momentarily taking over. jenni carefully withdrew herself and repositioned her hands so that she was holding you. "thank you, corazon. te amo."

"i love you too," you muttered as you turned your head to press a kiss to jenni's cheek. she turned at just the right moment to steal a kiss from your lips, which you were more than happy with.

#jenni hermoso x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #jenni hermoso imagine #woso fanfics #woso smut #jenni hermoso smut #minors do not interact

[leaentries]

Red | jack hughes

backstory - next

summary: when jack meets a bombshell of a girl, his life is bound to change.

warnings: swearing, lil bit of arrogant jack

wc: 2k+

a/n: welcome to my new series! this will follow jack and red as they navigate through the ins and outs of new love. if you have any requests or thoughts regarding jack and red, please send them in!

His world was flipped the second he met her. His Red.

Live chattering filled the dimly lit bar, as a certain chill settled in the cracks of the wooden walls. Winter did not come to play this time of year. The howling wind could still be heard over the loud voices in the room. With every creak of the front door, more frigid air rushed in, gripping whoever was near. 

Bright noses and ears scattered about the patrons, who eagerly down their alcohol in an attempt to warm up the frosted bones beneath. The old dinky clock on the back wall lamely rang as the time hit the hour. It was officially the next day, yet Jack and his team still swarmed the back left corner of the room. 

Joy was very evident to whoever gazed upon the mass of hockey players, or anyone who paid any attention to the TVs in the room. The New Jersey Devils had just won their best game thus far, winning by a complete shutout against their rivals. To say they were pumped would be an understatement. 

Strong bodies and their accompanied ladies made their way to the dance floor, leaving behind the select bachelors of the bunch. Although adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he was still riding the high of winning, Jack couldn’t help but watch as his teammates celebrated with their partners. 

The lowly sound of Nico and Dawson’s conversation echoed in and out of Jack’s ears. Now, Jack knew, regardless of how shallow it seemed, that he could easily have his choice of bunny to dance with. Truth be told, he had begun to grow tired of hooking up with random girls every weekend. 

Jack craved something deeper. He craved something real. So, there he sat, in the back booth with a beer in his hand, secretly wishing he had his own girl by his side. 

❥.

Another hour or so had passed, the clock now reading 1:15 a.m., yet the team seemed to have every intention of shutting the place down. Another round of shots was brought to the table, courtesy of Erik, causing a new rise of cheers to be heard. Jack jumped slightly, as Dawson shoved a small glass of brown liquid into his hand. 

“C’mon, man! What’s up with you?” Dawson questioned as he noticed Jack staring into the glass. Jack was quick to plaster a small, but convincing smile on his face. 

“Nothing. I’m all good, just a bit tired after the game, that’s all.” Dawson looked skeptical and opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off as Jack swiftly drank the potent liquid. 

“Atta boy, JackJack!” Dawson’s attention moved away from Jack as Luke showed him something on his phone. 

A deep sigh left Jack’s throat, easing the burning sensation. His eyes traveled around the bar, this time noting that they seemed to be the last ones left. He wanted to go home, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave as he saw how happy his team looked. 

Jack excused himself from the table, opting to go recoup in the bathroom for a few peaceful moments. Making his way towards the other side of the bar proved to be more difficult when he had drunk hockey players flinging themselves as he passed. Jack continued his way through, ignoring all of the concerned looks he got as he pushed his friends off.

He picked up his pace, practically slamming the bathroom door closed once he was inside. He let his hands rest on the sink as he attempted to even out his breathing. Jack wasn’t even completely sure why he was freaking out in the first place. It’s not like he has to be single, he has lines of women at his beck and call. 

But, there is something different about the emptiness in his chest that he just can’t seem to shake tonight. Jack turned on the faucet, gently patting his face with some cool water to help dissipate the redness covering his cheeks and neck. 

He reached over to grab a paper towel when the door slammed open. Jack turned around abruptly, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion. But what caught him off guard the most was, not the interruption, but the fact that it was a girl. In the men's bathroom. 

“Excuse me?” Jack exclaimed, visibly irritated by the girl. The girl's eyes widened, before stepping back to look at the sign on the door.

“Oh shit!” She met Jack’s eyes with an awkward laugh, “Apparently this isn’t the women's bathroom.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Great observation there, genius.” 

The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at his snappy tone. She understood her mistake, but that did not give him a reason to be rude. Before saying anything, she took into account who he was. Not that it mattered, but she did not want to start beef with Jack Hughes. 

She remained silent, her lack of response egging Jack on. 

“Look, I get it. You’re a fan, but I’m trying to have some privacy. The least you could do is respect that. You didn’t have to barge into the bathroom just to see me.” 

Oh hell no. 

It occurred in that moment, that she no longer cared who he was. The arrogance melted in waves off of him and she needed to snuff that out real fast.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talking to, but it sure ain’t me.”

Jack was taken aback by her rebuttal, not failing to note the southern twang in her voice. He then realized how insanely attractive the fuming girl was. Her flaming ginger hair fell in waves down her back, which provided a stark contrast to her bright green eyes. They were big and round, yet held so much fire. Her nose was small, yet curved up slightly, creating a slope. Jack found himself wanting to trace his fingers down it. 

He was snapped back into reality as her vibrant red lips opened once more. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I know who you are, Jack Hughes,” She mimicked, “But If I wanted to see your dick that bad, I’d have no problem getting you in my bed.” 

Jack scoffed, “Oh is that so?”

She took a few steps forward.

“It’s no secret you get around Jack,” She brought her hands around his shoulders, “Your dick is more famous than you at this point.” 

Jack would be lying if he denied the jolt that his cock made at her comment.

“You know, Red, you shouldn’t talk about my dick if you don’t plan on giving it attention.” Jack wasn’t sure what changed his mood, possibly the most sexy woman he had ever seen talking about his cock. Maybe a hookup wouldn’t be the worst thing to come of the night.

A wicked grin found its way to her full lips as she brought them to his right ear. Her body pressed against his deliciously. With a low whisper, she replied, “Like hell.” 

She pulled away quickly stepping back. Jack frowned at the loss of her warm body. His eyes gleamed longingly at the door as she made her way out without a second glance at him. 

Jack was left by himself once more, this time with a painful hard-on and thoughts of his mystery girl. 

❥.

Once he calmed himself down, Jack left the bathroom and began to make his way back to his team. He was about halfway through the building when a streak of red hair caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see her sitting at a bartop, engrossed in her laptop that sat in front of her. 

Jack acted on a whim and decided he wanted, no needed, to figure this girl out. He walked up to the bartop, sliding into the seat beside her. 

She didn’t even bother to look up, “Look Bubba, go find somewhere else to sit. I am very clearly busy.” She barked. Jack chuckled at her response. 

“Wow, Red, you’re very feisty this evening.” The girl snapped her head up, meeting Jack’s icy blue ones. She let out a huff, shaking her head slightly. 

“What? You decided to grace the common folk with your godly presence, Jacky?” She gave him a pointed look before continuing, “Also, don’t call me Red. I have a name, you know.”

“You haven’t given it.”

“You haven’t asked.”

Jack smiled. The way she manages to challenge everything he says is addicting and he wants more.

“Alright then, what’s your name?” Jack questioned, quirking his head to the side. Boy, was he more than happy to play her game. 

“Y/n.” 

“Nah, I still prefer Red.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, opting to turn her focus back to her computer. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of attention she gave. 

“Am I not entertaining enough for you, Red?” 

She looked back up from her project, turning to him. “Look, Jacky, I already told you in the bathroom, I’m not looking to hook up with you. Nor do I want to,” She sucked in a breath, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to focus on my article.”

Jack did not like the idea of giving up, so he let his curiosity get the better of him. He turned her laptop towards him, provoking protest from the red-haired girl. He was taken by surprise at the title:

A backtrack on the Devil's season: Did Jack Hughes save the team?

Jack couldn’t help but smirk, his ego rising a few notches. 

“Writing articles about me, huh? I gotta be honest with ya, Red. With the way you’ve been arguing all night, I never would have guessed you were my biggest fan.”

Y/n scoffed, a bewildered look on her face. “Ha! That’s rich.” She tugged her laptop back, “I was given this assignment, I would never write about you willingly. You’re a good player Jacky, but some of your other teammates deserve the hype too. All the major networks are too busy fawning over you, that they miss what contributions are being made by the other players. Last time I checked, it’s not just Jack Hughes on the ice.” 

Even though she was complaining about him, he couldn’t help but cling to her every word. It was captivating, how passionate she got. Especially over something that Jack’s life revolved around. 

She continued, but was cut off by Jack, “I agree with you.” 

Y/n cocked her head, “You…agree with me?” Baffled would be an understatement. She assumed Jack would be flying, boasting about being the number one topic in the NHL right now. 

“Yes, I agree. My team is just as important, we wouldn’t be winning with just me. It’s a team effort and I think more people should be writing about that. Everyone on that ice is crucial to the game, so I appreciate you seeing that.”

Everything he said was true. He truly did believe that he would be nowhere without his team, they were his family. Y/n could see the tenderness in his eyes. Against her better wishes, she found it attractive how he cared for his team.

She shook away those thoughts, “Anyways, Jacky, I am super busy finishing this article, so…” She trailed off, hoping he would get the subtle hint. She would never let on that she was enjoying their conversation. 

Jack wasn’t blind to her attempts to get him to leave but refused to go without assuring him he’d see her again. 

“I could help you,” He offered. She gave him a questioning look.

“I mean, you seem to be struggling to come up with what to write about me. So, I can help you. You can ask me any questions you want…” 

She raised an eyebrow, sensing his wanting tone, “What’s the catch?” 

“Go on a date with me.” 

She almost immediately said no, but considered what this article could do for her career. Everyone in her network wanted to write about Jack Hughes, yet somehow she was the one who managed to get stuck with the assignment. Was she willing to put up with an entire date just for the chance to get new intel no one else had? 

Y/n had hoped not, but alas, she knew what she needed to do. 

“Fine,” Jack’s eyes lit up at her compliance, “Only one date, after that we split and never talk again.”

“You got it, Red.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x red #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes headcanons #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #new jersey devils #njd x reader #njd #nico hischier #dawson mercer #luke hughes #erik haula #leawrites💋

[thelukesalvez]

Luke Alvez x Reader: It's About Time

Prompt: The reader and Luke pretend to be dating so that the rest of the team will stop trying to set Luke up on blind dates.  

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none

You've really done it now, Alvez, Luke thinks to himself.  

Of all the names he could have blurted out, he just had to choose yours. God, the Queen of England would have been better.  

He thought back to the conversation in the bullpen that had started this whole mess.

"I-I can't go out with your friend," Luke stuttered, wishing his coworkers would stop pushing him to go on all these blind dates just because he was single.

"C’mon, Luke-” Tara pressed. “She’s smart and accomplished. I think you two would really hit it off-"

"Because I'm seeing someone," he blurted out spontaneously, mind racing to come up with a name.

Tara and JJ all looked taken aback, then suspicious, their eyes narrowing in unison. Tara raised her brows, "Oh? Who?"

Luke’s mind went blank, his brain nearly sizzling as it worked fast to come up with something. He should have chosen someone random- the girl who always walked her dog by his house, or the one who made his coffees in the morning. Someone the team didn’t know.  Hell, a completely made up girl would’ve been better.  

Suddenly, a warm smile and deep, sparkling eyes flooded his mind, and Luke couldn't stop himself. "Y/N."

JJ’s jaw dropped, a gasp escaping her lips. "Y/N?"

Instantly, Luke’s entire insides flood with regret.  

You worked in the Counter-Terrorism division of the Bureau. Luke first met you in training at the Academy when he joined the FBI. You had become quick allies, before graduating and moving on to your assignments.

There had been a time, in the Academy, when Luke had a thing for you, quickly reigned in by your charm. He admired your work ethic and constant ability to make him laugh.  

But everything changed once you finished the Academy.  You remained in Quantico while Luke traveled with the Fugitive Task Force, gradually losing touch.  

It was only recently, with Luke joining the BAU, that you two were able to reconnect. Now that he was stationed in Quantico full time, you actually saw each other quite frequently. At first, just in passing- a consequence of your offices being so close to one another.  But, as time went on, you started rekindling during work gatherings and even meeting for drinks after hours.  Your friendship with Luke was easy and natural.  You even were introduced to his team- who all took a quick liking to you.   

Sometimes Luke thought you were closer to Penelope, Tara, and JJ than you were to him. He cringed realizing they would never buy it. "Yeah," he confirms anyway.

"Luke," Tara said slowly, "why haven’t we heard anything about this?"

"We... wanted to take things slow,” Luke lied. “It just... sort of happened."

“Well, I mean, it’s about time. I think Pen called this months ago,” JJ said. 

Luke’s face flushed bright red. 

"We have to tell her," Tara agreed. 

“Yeah, Luke, you should bring her to Garcia’s house party this weekend. I’m sure Matt would love to meet her.”

Great. 

Luke slid off the desk he was kneeling on and nodded in confirmation, “Yeah, great idea,” he lied again. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans; positive this whole thing was going to bite him in the ass.

...

The next morning, Luke arrived at the Bureau early. He needed to talk to you before anyone else could.  

He had a hunch that he might be murdered today.

You were heading for the elevators when it happened. You had your head down and were 20 minutes early to work, per usual. Normally, you didn’t encounter anyone on your way inside of Quantico. But you let out a startled squeal when suddenly, someone threw their arm between the closing metal doors, forcing them to reopen. Breathless from the scare, you quickly turn to realize it was Luke. You let out a sigh of relief before playfully shoving his shoulder. 

“God, you scared me,” you said. 

But Luke didn't laugh. Instead he tugged on his shirt uncomfortably, an awkward smile on his face. 

“What’s the matter with you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“So, uh-” how the hell was Luke supposed to casually bring this up?  “It’s a funny story really..”

“Spit it out, Alvez,” you said, you immediately could tell something was up.  Luke was never this fidgety. 

He bit his lip harshly. “The entire BAU may or may not think we’re dating-” he spit out quickly. “That’s not true-” he corrected.  “The entire BAU definitely thinks we’re dating.”

You gawked at Luke, not entirely processing what he had just told you. “What?” Your cheeks were growing hot with embarrassment. “Why?”

Luke offered a brief, cheeky smile, one that was layered with guilt. "See, now that's a funny story-"

"Spit it out, Alvez."

“-Because I told them we were.”

Without even thinking you turned and pressed the stop button on the elevator, locking the two of you into place. This conversation was going to take a lot longer than the minute it took to bring you to the fourth floor. 

“You what?” You gasped.    

“Like I said- it’s really, kind of a funny story-” 

But you cut him off. "You have ten seconds to explain before I strangle you to death in this elevator.”

Luke’s eyes widened with shock, even though that was exactly the reaction he expected.  

“Talk. Now.” You demanded, cornering him.  

"Tara was trying to set me up with one of her friends- and to get out of it I told her I was already seeing someone. When she asked who, I panicked and said you."

Your nostrils flared and Luke thought he could almost hear your teeth grinding. "Why wouldn’t you just say no to the date?" You asked. “Instead of lying?”

“Because it never stops- every gathering, every party, they’re trying to set me up.  It’s like I scream lonely or something.”

Your mouth tightened but you stayed quiet.

“I needed something that would shut them up for good.  Or at least a little while.”

"And so you said you were dating me..." 

Luke sighed. “I know it was stupid. But I’m tired of going on meaningless dates that never turn out good. I just needed a break... I mean, it's exhausting, really- and never ending. But I get it- I mean, I get it's not fair to you. But I panicked- and just reacted." God, he was blabbing. "But I’ll tell them it was a lie, I’ll go on the date-”

You crossed your arms. "You done?"

Luke nodded. You waited a moment, mulling the whole thing over in your head.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? Except, it was. Because back at the Academy, when you and Luke first became friends, you had developed a small, barely-there, tiny crush on Luke. However, now that he was stationed in Quantico and you two were seeing each other more often, your crush had only grown into a full fledged, real-life feelings.  

But the thought of Luke going on another blind date made you cringe, so without giving yourself a chance to do the responsible thing here, you blurted out a quick, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Luke said in disbelief. 

“What would I have to do?”

“Uh-” Luke stammers, like he’s still in shock. “Garcia’s party-  You could come to Garcia’s party with me.”

"Garcia’s party then," you declared. "We pretend to be together for the party."

Luke’s eyes met yours and he gave you a convincing smile. “Are you sure?”

You shrugged before pushing the button to start the elevator back up again. “Yeah, what the hell?”

…

You pulled into the driveway of Garcia’s home and both of you sat in the car, tensed.

“I’m sorry again about this. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I owe you one. I just… didn’t want to do the blind date thing and you’re the only person I’d feel comfortable doing this with and-“ 

You cut Luke off and slid your calm hand over his shaking one. You hope the small admission was lost somewhere in Luke’s rushed, jumbled apology.

“Luke, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to say yes.” You squeezed Luke’s hand, gently demanding for him to look up and into your eyes.

Luke obliged.

“I’m happy to be here with you. There’s no one else in the world that I’d rather be in a fake relationship with.”

Luke thought that, ‘or a real relationship’ was hanging somewhere in the air between them. But neither of you had the courage to admit it.

You squeezed Luke’s hand again before hopping out of the passenger’s side, going to the backseat to collect the bottle of wine you’d brought.  

To say Garcia was excited to see the two of you holding hands on her doorstep was an understatement. 

“Oh my gosh,” she said, looking shocked. “Oh my gosh. You guys are so beautiful together. I always had a feeling about this. Made for each other, you two. I called this.” 

“Hi Penelope,” you said through a smile.

She waved you in excitedly, and you and Luke exchanged glances before following her into the house.

Luke carried the bags in and you carried the wine. Luke couldn’t help but think that this is probably how it would go if you two were really dating. Luke doing all the heavy lifting of the bags, and you letting your friends whisk you into the kitchen to chatter about something.

Luke shook the thought out of his head.  

...

“So tell me about how you guys got together,” JJ asked later in the night.  

Penelope’s eyes widened and she hurried to set down her glass before flailing her arms. “Oh, oh, oh!” she bounced excitedly. “I want to know too!” 

Everyone in the room’s attention turned to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but hesitated. 

While you floundered in your explanation. Luke wished he could go to you, wrap an arm around your waist, steady you and remind you that it was okay.

Luke was midway through the thought when he realized that oh… he could actually do that right now.

He crossed the room in a hurry before wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side, smiling at you as he felt you lean into his body, one of your arms snaking behind him to grip his hip. 

Luke could get used to this. 

But he won’t be getting used to this. Because this is just for the party and then you and him will go back to being just friends. 

“It uh-” Luke fumbled with his words, too distracted by the way your fingertips felt against the flesh of his hip. 

But you swooped in to save him, jumping into your story quickly. “It happened after work a little while ago. We were riding down in the elevator together and he finally just asked me out.” Luke squeezed your arm, as your voice trailed off. You looked up at him, smiling. “It was an easy yes from me, I’d been waiting for him to do that for a while- pretty much since the day we met.” You let the moment carry you through the story, let your real, raw feelings show, for once. And you hoped that Luke was listening to every word. You hoped it registered to Luke that not all of this was for show.

It took a small whimper of a sob that came from Garcia's mouth to snap the two of you from your trance. 

“Oh, you guys. I’m so happy for you both. This is wonderful. From the way Luke’s always talked about you, I figured that he was just in his own head again… he’s been head over heels for you for quite some time –“

“Oh wow, Garcia,” Luke choked on his words, his eyes wide. “That reminds me, we brought your favorite wine! Let’s get that opened, yeah?” His skin was the same shade as the Pinot Noir he was currently reaching for.

Garcia smiled and nodded, clapping her hands together before shuffling off to grab three wine glasses from the cupboard. But you were looking up at him with a blinding grin.

Just for show, Luke thought. Just for show.

Penelope returned with a handful of glasses, which she filled with a generous serving of wine and held hers up like she was about to give a toast. Luke groaned. He hadn’t anticipated how much his team would dote over his fake relationship. 

“To you, Y/N. For making my Luke the happiest I’ve ever seen him, and for so many years to come.”

You all clinked your glasses and sipped (in Luke’s case, chugged) before Garcia led them into the living room.

Luke found himself sitting on the couch listening to Rossi tell stories about his early days with the BAU.  Somewhere during the story your fingers laced together.

Luke wasn't sure when it happened or who initiated it.

But he certainly wasn’t complaining.

…

“God, how he drooled over you. I swear, his jaw dropped to the floor anytime you entered a room.”

Luke was going to kill Rossi. 

You, on the other hand, were laughing hysterically on the couch next to him. Luke was far past the mortification of it all at this point. His team had graciously taken it upon themselves to test if he could actually die of embarrassment. He assumed they’re about halfway there.

Somewhere between the stories of Luke’s desperate pining over you and your fond smiles, Luke had refilled his glass of wine.

He wished he had something stronger, because wine wasn’t exactly cutting it for him in this mess of a conversation.

You, however, looked happy.

Your second glass of wine had caused your cheeks to gently flush, while your full grin was on display. 

“Time for cards!” Garcia announced as she waved everyone into the kitchen. 

Before standing up, you leaned into Luke’s side. “You okay?" 

Your voice was soft. Luke pressed closer to you without thinking about it.

“Yeah. I-I’m fine, just… don’t listen to them, okay? JJ and Rossi are trying to wind me up, and Garcia’s just happy that I’m with someone. I promise I’m not some… some like.. I didn’t… what they said-" 

There was no way to explain what the team had said that wouldn’t result in Luke lying to you. All of those stories were true, they just sounded more pathetic when they were told all together like that.

You shook your head and grinned.

“It’s okay. Besides, if we were actually dating, I think I would be a little angry at you right now for not making a move sooner.” You winked before standing up, holding your hand out for Luke to take. 

Luke pushed himself up from the couch and linked his fingers with yours again, grabbing his glass of wine because he would probably need that to get through this night alive.

…

“She’s good for you, Luke. I’m glad that you finally mustered up the courage to ask her out.” Rossi clapped Luke on the back as he and you gathered up your things at the end of the evening.

All Luke could do was nod and smile in return.  

You, on the other hand, were in the middle of a shockingly long hug from Garcia, who was making you promise that you’d visit soon. 

Luke bites his lip, wondering if maybe this whole thing had gone too far. How was he supposed to keep up this facade when he showed up at work the next day and everyone asked about you? 

He was still thinking about it when the two of you got into the car.  

You exhaled a breath of relief as soon as you sat down. When you look over, Luke’s staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

Luke shook his head, chuckling uncomfortably. He stared down at his lap for a moment. 

You shifted in your seat, angling your body so that you were facing him. 

“Tell me,” you urge, your voice softening. 

Luke met your gaze, his lips turned into a small smile. “I’m just thinking about what I’m going to tell the team tomorrow.”

Your confused face urges him to continue. 

“I don’t know, I mean they love you- I think more than they love me. They’re gonna be asking about you all the time.  Do we fake a breakup now?”

Without thinking, you reached out to cup Luke’s cheek before leaning in and kissing him, softly and gently. 

You didn’t want to pull your lips away, and suddenly, Luke was kissing you back.  Only when you were desperate for air did you pull away.  

“Were they looking?” Luke asked quietly, still keeping his soft brown eyes locked on you. 

Narrowing your eyebrows, you shake your head. “No,” you tell him.  “No, they weren’t looking.”

Luke’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, his jaw dropping slowly. 

“Luke-” you said slowly, hoping that you weren’t painfully misjudging the situation. “I think we both know that tonight wasn’t fake. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

You both looked at each other in fond silence before Luke nodded slowly, too shocked to speak. 

“Am I wrong?” you asked, your confidence fading quickly. 

Luke shook his head, “No,” he blurted out. “No, you aren’t wrong.”

With a grin you just couldn’t wipe off of your face, you nodded again.  “Good,” you whispered.  

Luke licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they were. “So maybe we don’t have to have a fake break up?” His sentence finished as a question. 

“Luke Alvez,” you said, scooting even closer towards him.  “Are you finally asking me out?”

Luke nodded while simultaneously closing the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss.  You were both smiling into each other’s touch.  

When you finally break apart, your face was flushed and you were out of breath. You smiled, little tears gathering in your eyes that Luke swiped away gently with the pad of his thumb. 

“It’s about time,” you told him smugly. 

#luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez x reader fic #criminal minds imagine #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader

[hughes86-43]

"Wow, just wow. They had the audacity to ask you if you were single even though I had my hand wrapped around your waist." "You're jealous?" "Fuck yeah, I am." - jealous/posessive!Nico pleaseee it’s what I live for

“Wow, just wow. They had the audacity to ask you if you were single even though I had my hand wrapped around your waist.” “You’re jealous?” “Fuck yeah, I am”

-

It was a Friday night, and to mark the end of the hockey season, you and Nico went out with the other teammates and their significant others to a local rooftop bar. You dressed up in your favorite wide leg pants paired with a black skin tight long sleeve. Knowing that you would be doing a lot of standing and moving around to talk to people, you wore your comfy black boots.

Nico had one arm wrapped around your waist as he was talking to Jasper on the other side of him, and you were sipping on your drink talking to two of your girl friends. You were missing quality time talking to the other significant others of the team as you have been busy with work lately, so you were glad to be able to catch up with them.

All was going well until a random guy came up to you. You weren’t even paying attention to someone coming up to you, until he was basically right up next to you. “Um, can I help you?” You weren’t trying to be rude with your response, but it probably did sound that way.

He eyes your body up and down, says confidently, “Hi, I’m Dustin, I was wondering if you were single? I definitely want to buy you a drink.” You can feel Nico’s arm become stiff around you, but you knew that he was going to let you handle the situation before he needed to step in. You could feel the eyes of the people you knew on you, waiting to see what you would say or if they needed to step in as well.

“Oh, no, I’m not single! I’m totally fine buying my own drink, so no!” Your nervous response makes him drop his smile and confident demeanor.

“Well, okay, you’re loss!” You stand there for a second shocked at what he just said before letting out a laugh and taking a sip of your drink.

You turn your head left and right to see everyone looking at you. You speak out, “Okay, that was weird! Let’s go back to what we were doing!”

You turn to face Nico as he loosens his grip on your waist. When he lets go of you, you ask him if he was okay.

“Yeah, I’m just going to go the bathroom real quick.” He walks to the bathroom after you give him a nod and a quick kiss.

Turning back to the girls, you hear Jack come up next to you. “You better go check up on him, that vein in his neck was about to pop at the sight of that guy asking you out.” You give him a nod, tell the girls you’ll be right back, and head to find Nico.

He was standing down the bathroom hallway when you found him. He looked like he could punch something.

“What’s wrong? Is it about that guy? We both know that he was crazy to ask that.”

He looks at you and responds, “Yes, that guy!” He throws his hands in the air. “I mean, wow, just wow! They had the audacity to ask you if you were single even though I had my hand wrapped around your waist.”

You could tell that he was jealous over it, and Jack was right, that vein looked like it was about to pop. “You’re jealous? Aren’t you?”

He looks right into your eyes as he says, “Fuck yeah, I am!” He sighs before walking over to put his hands on your hips, “I mean have you seen how you look tonight? You’re freaking smoking hot, and you could easily get with any guy, but you’re mine so they can’t have you.”

You let out a soft laugh while moving your hand to run it through his hair. “Yeah, I’m yours. Always.” You lift up on your toes to give him a kiss. “Let’s go back to talk to everyone and then we can head out because I’m loving this jealous side of you.”

He raises an eyebrow at what you said. “Oh, really? Why don’t we just head out now?”

You gently push him out of the grasp and turn to walk back to your friends, “Hmm, you know that’s tempting, but I want to talk to everyone so you’ll have to wait.” He groans as you throw him a wink.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fics #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fics #nhlhockey fic

[in-daddy-price-we-trust]

All I Wanted - Part 2

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence, kidnapping

Part 1 Part 3

AN: Here it is! The Long awaited part two !!

Hope you enjoy this just as much as part one !!

Price POV

This was not what they needed right now. When 141 first heard of a potential weapons trade for El Sin Nombre going down in Amsterdam, they couldn't wait to get on the field.

The suspense was killing them as they waited for the right moment. They knew at this point that trying to stop the deal would be more hassle than worth. So the plan of waiting for their food to come to them was a better solution.

Price stalled however when he saw her step out. No way this was who they were after. No one in a cartel would go about wearing over-pink clothes. It was stupid. Even more so when she started shooting back, with a pistol as well.

"Ghost, move in," the static of the radio crackled before a grumbled copy sounded back. Price watched as Ghost snuck up behind her, his feet silent as he kicked her knees in and knocked her out.

"Well done Ghosty," The Scotsman, Soap, cheered over the comms, making his way down to the evac truck they scheduled.

She sat in-between him and Ghost. "No way she's with Nombre," Gaz announced after a few minutes of silence, "She's a child!" A hum left Soap's throat. 

"That's why we integrate her, Nombre or not, we can still use her to our advantage," Price concluded, sending the group back into quiet before she awoke.

-

Gaz was right. She was a child, barely reaching 16. Guilt hung heavy in his heart as he thought back to her crying. Cheeks red with tears and eyes puffy. 

He dragged a hand down his face, muttering a 'Jesus Christ' under his breath at the discovery. Eyes flicked across the room, every single soldier in that room seemed to suffocate in the amount of tension.

With a heavy sigh, Price spoke again. "How about we make a deal?" her head shot up at the words, a mix of emotions slathered across her features. From here he could tell she was picking apart his words.

"You, stay with us and get a place to stay," Price's eyes drifted to his team behind her.

"But - you have to help us catch our guy," The words cemented in her brain, slowly nodding along to them. It couldn't be worse to what she was used to, can it? Worse case scenario, she runs away again.

"Okay," it was final, "But I need to get my gear first."

-

The drive was quiet. The radio played some random pop song that she muttered the lyrics too, fingers drumming on her thighs. 

The boys seemed glad she accepted the deal. Although it may be the fact she was a minor and by the sounds of it, partaking in crime activity. Of course, this wouldn't be as different but at least all expenses were paid for by the government.

The car lulled to a stop, pulling up in front of the hotel. The door slammed shut before Price even registered her unclicking her seat belt leaving him to race after her.

A smile graced her lips as she greeted the lady at the front desk, who then proceeded to side eye Price. He would too if he saw a teenager going up to a hotel room with a 40-something-year-old man.

The pair continued to be silent in each other's presence, even when her fingers slipped together pressing and pulling on each one as a sort of fidget. The lift dinged at the second floor, Price hot on her heels to the hotel room. She muttered the number continuously under her breath, 105. 

Number splayed in gold, she struggles to get the keycard from wherever she managed to store the thing, like seriously, where did she put things? 

The door pushed open to the room. The white linen sheets still a mess from when she woke up this morning. What caught his eye was the absurdly bright duffle bag that sat on the middle of the hardwood floors, from where he stood he could make out the top of a pink sniper. 

'Jesus the girl knew how to stick to a theme, that's for sure..'

Diligently she picked up the weapons she managed to slide into nooks and crannies. Picking up stray plushies along the way. Price tried to help, but whenever he tried to pick up a cuddly brown bear he'd get holes burnt unto his head. So he eventually dropped it, opting to stand near the door.

Before long she came up to him, bag over her shoulder and a determined look in her eyes. The trip back to reception was awkward. The same tense atmosphere seemed to follow like a shadow. The lift dinged again, the robotic voice announcing their arrival.

She marched over to the receptionist, explaining she was checking out early (even though there was still two weeks left) and saying if anyone needed it to let them have the room for free. The soft spoken words melted the workers heart, promising to do as told.

-

Your POV

Price was awkward. Maybe the commanding aura around him clashed with yours of innocence. But - you both knew yours was fake. To some extent at least.

"Why did you make a deal? - with me?" It was a genuine question. The want of appreciation and validation flooding through your veins.

His eyes flicked down to you, noticing you already looking him in the face. He huffed a laugh at it. Soft, warm. "Well - I'm not just going to toss a kid out on the street, am I?" It was the truth. Voice of honey and liquid gold washing over you. Clouding your brain.

"Thank you, Price."

-

"Doll, wake up for me yeah?" a hum fell past your lips as you stirred awake, rubbing your eyes.

"Are we back already?" voice hoarse and scratchy, a yawn coming from you mid sentence.

Price chuckled at you. 'Glad someone finds this amusing.' 

"C'mon love - I'll show you to your new room and you can have a kip in there, kay?" His voice was soft, almost like the words would make you shatter and crumble like glass. Though it worked, pushing you out of the passenger seat of the car and onto the (now) familiar gravel plaza. Pink mary janes dragged behind you, sleep seeping into your bones.

That was soon rushed out of you when Mohawk appeared in front of you and Price. "Hi lassie, names Sargent John Mactavish but Soap is fine!" He beamed, pearly whites flashing down as you appeared wide eyed at him, stunned at the sudden (and quite frankly, loud) appearance. He threw a hand over his shoulder, pointing at the other figure you completely missed, "And that's Gaz." It was the shorty of the group, giving you a sheepish wave and a sympathetic smile at the loud Scot.

Price placed a hand on your shoulder, a slight apology maybe? You found yourself staring up at him before speaking, "Uhm.. thank- thank you Soap-?" cursing yourself for stumbling over your words. The nicknames getting caught on your tongue at its strangeness. "What kind of name is 'Soap' anyways?" He laughed at that, full belly laughed. Sort of high like a bell, although pleasant.

"M' Afraid I can't tell ya that, confidential," It was spoken with a wicked grin plastered across his face. The smile contagious and making the pink bands of your braces show. "Why don't Gaz and I show you to your new room?" A glance to Price and his nudge of the head allowed you to accept the offer, Soap instantly grabbing the bag from off your shoulder and pulling you along, going on to ramble about his hometown in Scotland.

-

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#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #141 x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod #call of duty fanfic #x reader

[sturnioloskyline]

Could you do a story based off your hockey head shots with Chris and he loses a game and gets extra mad because she wore someone else’s jersey to the game 😘

lucky charm

pairing: hockey player!chris x fem!reader

warnings: dom!chris, possessiveness, smut, oral(m receiving), face fucking, p in v, rough, not proodread

summary: chris spots his girlfriend in the crowd at his hockey game, but in another guy’s jersey

thank u for the request anon!! 🌚

"shit!" you shout, rummaging through your closet frantically. you were already running late for chris's hockey game, your roommate, y/r/n, waiting for you outside. you would have left by now, but you couldn't find a jersey anywhere. usually, you wear one of chris's spare jerseys to every single game to show your support, but you couldn't find one in your closet anywhere.

"y/n, come on, we have to go!" y/r/n barged into the room, getting impatient.

"i know, i'm trying!" your roommate watched you as you rifled through piles of clothes.

"what are you looking for?" she asked, wanting to help so that you could leave sooner.

"chris's jersey, i can't find it anywhere!" you groaned, running your fingers through your hair.

"you probably left it at his place," y/r/n said, grabbing your arm. "but i think i have a random one in my car that you can wear. now, c'mon, let's go!"

you sighed but followed your roommate out the door, leaving your guys's apartment and getting in her car. surely enough, there was a jersey in chris's team's colors lying in the backseat. you reached over and grabbed it, examining it.

"whose jersey is this?" you asked your roommate. there was a number on it, but no last name on the back.

"no fuckin' clue," she shrugged, focusing on the road in an attempt to get to the arena as quickly as possible. you shook your head and slipped the jersey on over your outfit.

when you finally got there, the two of you rushed inside to find a good seat. thankfully, two seats were available just a few rows above the ice, allowing for a good perfect view of the game.

as soon as you sat down, the commentators began to introduce the team as they skate onto the ice. you stand up and cheer when chris came out, waving to him. he immediately looked for you, and when his eyes landed on yours, he broke out into a smile.

but then, chris caught a glimpse of what you were wearing. his smile faltered as he read the number on your jersey, not matching the one on his own. he quickly looked away before you could notice. clenching his jaw.

chris was used to outperforming the other players in eery single game he played, but tonight he just could not focus. he fumbled passes and missed simple shots. you noticed the decline in his performance, growing worried about chris. when they called halftime, chris's coach told him to snap out of it. you tried to catch chris's eye, but he refused to look at you for the rest of the game.

chris's team ended up losing, making you feel worse. you and y/r/n got up from the stands, walking out of the rink towards the parking lot.

"you going to chris's?" y/r/n asked, and you nodded. "alright, see you tomorrow."

you waved to her and headed towards chris's car a few rows down. you stood by the passenger side of the car, waiting for chris to finish up in the locker room. a few minutes later, you saw chris walking towards you with his stick in hand and his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"chris!" you called out, standing on your tiptoes and waving. chris looked up at you, scoffing when he saw that you were still wearing the jersey. he didn't respond, simply unlocking the car and opening the truck to store his gear.

you noticed his sour mood and decided not to push it, knowing he had a rough game. you silently got in the passenger seat of the car, fumbling with your fingers as you waited for chris to get in the car.

you snapped your head towards the driver's side when you heard chris's door open. he slipped into the driver's seat with a deep sigh, staying silent as he started the car and put on his seatbelt. you started to feel uncomfortable with the silence, so you looked away and faced the window.

you spent the next few moments in silence, occasionally glancing over at chris who refused to take his eyes of the road. his hair was still sticking to his forehead slightly with sweat, his jaw was clenched and prominent, and his armed flexed as he turned the wheel. you always loved the way chris looked after a game, whether he was in a good mood.

when you turned your head back to the window again, chris finally broke the silence.

"who's jersey are you wearing?" chris asked, not taking his eyes off of the road. you looked at him with a puzzled espression.

"i don't know, it's just a random jersey," you replied, biting the inside of your cheek.

"that number—" chris took one hand off of the wheel to point to the number on your chest. "—is not mine. who's fucking number is that."

"chris, i don't know," you rolled your eyes. "y/r/n let me borrow it."

"don't give me that fuckin' attitude," chris scoffed, simultaneously maneuvering his way through traffic. "showing up to my game in another guy's fuckin' jersey. who do you think you are?"

chris's grip tightened on the steering wheel. you shook your head your head in disbelief at chris's jealousy. surely he wasn't getting this worked up over a jersey, right?

"just wait until we get home." chris's words sent chills down your spine. suddenly, all of the tension you felt towards chris turned sexual. you adjusted in your seat, squeezing your thighs tightly together.

once chris parked outside his condo complex, you practically leapt out of the car. you immediately headed towards the door, using your own keys to unlock the door, stepping inside and holding it open for chris who stumbled in with his gear. you slipped out your shoes off as chris dropped his bags on the floor without a word. he kicked off his own shoes and looked at you.

chris approached you, hooking his fingers in the neckline of the jersey.

"chris what are you— CHRIS!" you yelled as chris ripped the jersey straight down the middle. "what the fuck?"

"you don't fucking need this," chris tugged the ripped jersey off of you, tossing it aside. he turned back to you and gripped your jaw harshly, tilting your head up to look at him. you gasped at the action, your mouth lightly hanging open. "the only jersey you should be wearing is mine, got that?"

you nodded, a warmth beginning to grow in between your thighs. you couldn't lie, whenever chris was angry, you found him incredibly hot. the way his blue eyes got darker when looked at you made butterflies swarm in your stomach. honestly, whenever you guys fought you usually forgot about the issue as soon as you looked at chris.

chris leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, quickly deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth. you let chris take full control, melting into him. your hands reached up to tangle in his hair, tugging st it slightly, eliciting a groan from chris,

chris sloppily worked his mouth from your lips to your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting harshly at the skin just above your collarbone. you whimper and tilt your head back, allowing chris to have more access to your neck.

you felt chris's hard-on press against your body, , causing your hips to instinctively roll into his. chris hand came down and place a quick, harsh slap on your ass. you yelped at the contact, chris's hand kneading your ass as he continued to leave marks on your neck.

once he was satisfied with the hickeys littering your neck, chris pulled away and let his hands roam your body.

"get on your knees," he commanded, removing his hands from your body to grab the hem of his shirt, swiftly pulling it over his head and off of his body. you sunk down in front of him, felling one of his hands go to the back of your head, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail. you hooked your fingers into the waistband of chris's sweatpants and boxers, pulling them both down to the floor and letting chris step out of them.

chris's cock sprung out of his boxers, slapping against his stomach. his veins were prominent along his shaft, and his tip was pink and glistening with precum. you wrapped your hand around his base, angling it down so you could kiss his tip, before opening your mouth to swirl your tongue around it.

"fuck," chris hoarsed out, tightening his grip on your hair. you pushed past his tip, taking more of his length into your mouth. you used your hand to stroke the rest of him that wouldn't fit in your mouth. you bobbed your head back and forth on his cock, occasionally moaning around him.

chris's other hand went to the back of your head, creating a tighter grip on your hair. you looked up at him with his cock still in your mouth, making eye contact while sucking him off.

"look so fuckin' good like this, with my cock stuffed in your mouth," chris grunted, stilling your head. he slowly pushed his hips into your mouth, moaning as you relaxed your throat and made room for him in your mouth. chris finally pushed his whole length into your mouth, curving down your throat. you gagged around him, only making him harder.

chris slowly began thrusting in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. tears pricked in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you choked and gagged around him, whimpering as he quickened his pace. he tilted your head up to look at him, moaning at the sight of you taking him.

“f-fuck, gonna take my cum like a good girl?” chris asked, barely able to talk through his own pleasure. his thrust grew sloppier and more desperate.

you hummed in response, chris letting out a loud moan. as chris’s hips staggered, you swallowed around him, drawing him to his climax, chris whined as your throat tightened around him, sucking him dry. he held your head there, buried on his cock as he caught his breath.

when he pulled out, he pulled you up into a kiss, his eyebrows scrunching in passion. his hands roamed from your arms to your waist to your hips, stopping to grip the back of your thighs.

“jump,” chris mumbled against your lips. you wrapped your arms around chris’s neck, hopping up. chris swiftly wrapped your legs around his waist, now carrying you in his arms. he made his way over to his room, keeping a tight grip on your thighs.

he walked you over to his bedroom. kicking the door shut behind him. one he reached the door of his bed, he tossed you onto the mattress and climbed over you, connecting your lips once again. he tugged harshly on the hem of your shirt.

“off, off,” he muttered in desperation, pulling back and yanking your shirt up. you lifted your arms, allowing him to peel the clothes off of your body. his hand fumbled hastily with the clasp of your bra, pulling it off in one swift move. he leaned down to kiss the valley in between your breasts as he snuck his fingers under your waistband, sliding your pants and panties off of your legs. he stood up, taking a moment to admire the sight in front of him.

“always so wet for me,” a light smirk tugged at chris’s lips. he reached his hand in between your legs, running his middle finger through your folds. you gasped and arched your back, causing chris’s smirk to widen.

“chris,” you whined needily. chris pulled his hand away from your cunt to inflict a sharp slap on your ass. you only let out another whimper.

“fuckin’ wait,” chris demanded. he moved in between your legs, holding the base of his cock in one hand. he lined himself up with you, glancing at your face. you lifted your hips off the bed, but chris immediately placed a hand on your stomach and pushed you down. “so needy."

chris readjusted so his body was looming over yours. he slowly began to push himself inside of you. you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the sheets tightly as you felt chris stretching you out. chris took notice, his hand moving to caress your cheek. he groaned as he sunk into you, loving how warm and tight you felt around him.

"like you were made for me," chris breathed out as he bttomed out. you bit your lip, feeling his tip press against your cervix. chris started rolling his hips, lightly thrusting into you. you panted as you felt the pain from chris's size dissipate into pleasure.

you let out a soft moan, causing chris to groan in response. you reached your hands up to run along the skin of his back, pressing his body closer to yours. chris let his head hang down, his forehead resting on yours. chris's thrusts becams harder and faster, brushing against your g-spot every time.

"chris—fuck—don't stop," your nails scratched against chris's back, your body arching up to his. chris let out a strangled moan, fucking into you relentlessly. your moans only grew louder and more desperate. "oh, god, chris!"

chris looked at your face. your eyebrows were furrowed, you mouth hung open, and your hairline glistened with sweat. blood rushed to his dick at the sight, and his thrusts grew sloppier. you felt your own orgasm closely approaching.

"gonna cum with me baby?" chris grunted, now pounding into you at a pace that had you seeing stars.

"chris, chris, chris!" you chanted as he fuckied you, your cleching around him. your orgasm hit you like a truck, your head slamming back into a mattress as a long, loud moan escaped your throat. chris stilled inside of you, his dick twitching as he came.

you sighed as you felt yourself returning to reality, chris slowly pulling himself out of you. he watched your face, reaching a hand up to push away the hair that was sticking your forehead.

"so pretty," you flushed at the compliment, surprised at chris's sudden sweetness.

"thought you were mad at me," you panted out, your lips slightly curving upwards.

"i could never be mad at you," chris smiled back, leaning down to place a quick, sweet peck on your lips. "just don't ever think about wearing someone else's fucking jersey again."

...

author's note: first full length smut. 😋 throughout writing this , i wached an episode of love is blind, at least 3 cody ko videos, sung two karaoke songs, and had two shots. yay me! send me more requests! 😙

#sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

[gonnalosemydougdimmadomedamnmind]

It's literally impossible to read bat fanfiction because it's all based off those ridiculous fanon tropes that spread like crazy and people take as fucking biblical!!!!! Dick was never a jerk to Jason when he was Robin- they got along because Dick is mature as hell and in one retelling- Jason was a jerk to him!! And when he came back as Red Hood he had literally not a single damn reason to treat Dick like shit! Not a damn one! But he did, didn't he? Cause he's the fucking asshole! How dare you make Dick grovel towards that bastard! Dick has only ever tried to help him! Reached out during his Batman run, over and over! Also- Dick never put Jason in Arkham with Joker just a few cells down???? What the fuck! The Joker and all those other fuckers had been broken out of Arkham by Black Mask already for like the whole run??? Jason went to Arkham after losing to Dick, and Gordon put him in there because One he fucking deserved it, Two the literal circumstances?? And at that point!! Arkham was fucking rehabilitated itself!! By Dick!!! Because Bruce had him go undercover there for real, and Dick was actually tortured there before he got out!! So Dick put in the work to get that shit in order to actually help people!!

Dick never chose Damian over Tim- Tim refused to engage with him over his grief, shut him out, and left of his own devices! He never told Dick his suspicions on why Bruce was alive, never! And Tim is not the one to bring Bruce back either, there's a whole team at that point! Dick learns Bruce is alive through tossing his 'dead' body into a pit and the body comes to life as a zombie. Tim didn't tell him shit! Tim is also not a little crybaby- Damian cutting his line was a fucking blip on the page, he was momentarily shocked, that was it! He put Damian on his Hit List, which is why Damian cut his line. And his first attempt at "murder" is just pushing Tim off the dinosaur statue in the cave, he didn't go all assassin on him! Also Dick wasn't even there the first incident and wasn't told about the second incident. Alfred is the one who gave Damian Robin and Dick accepted him because he saw that Damian needed help! He needed guidance! He didn't fucking fire Tim the way Bruce fired him, and fuck all of you for thinking that Tim or Jason or fucking anyone has more right over Robin than Dick Fucking Grayson! He tried to promote Tim and Tim walked off. How dare yall make Dick fucking grovel towards that bastard!!!

Jason did try to kill all three of them!! Why does everyone just gloss over that like what the fuck??? Why does he get a pass for every shitty thing he's done??? "Bad writing" stfu this is the same dude that without hesitation kills random criminals, people who deal drugs, do you know how many random ass people deal drugs??? Jason doesn't give a single shit about being his own type of hero or saving Gotham his own way, nor do the people think of him as their savior!! Are you people fucking delusional?? I saw a post that said citizens would trust Jason over CASS and I cannot Believe the hallucinations yall are seeing???

It is literally downright impossible to find fics about Dick or Damian or Cass or fucking any of them that doesn't include these literal bullshit fanon takes!!! It's impossible!!! This fandom sucks!!!! You don't even need to go buy the comics, all these popular takes have been debunked right here on tumblr!!!! Also Dick can do literally everything!! He's hypercompetent as hell, die mad about it!! Jason doesn't like Wonder Woman???? Where the fuck did that come from??? Wayne Family Adventures is not real!!! Those people could not BE more out of character!!! Look at Bruce for crying out loud!!! Yall know that man ain't act like that!

Edit: leaving this here in case anyone wonders what my hot take is towards this question I was asked: "have you considered tho, that fanon is more fun..."

Well of course fanon is more fun if you're a fan of Jason or Tim. Fanon actively caters towards those two pasty white boys. Fanon actively shits on Dick and Damian though. And for Dick? He literally never did that shit! It is all made up! It's literal character assassination?? But by the fans?? And for Damian? He was 10!!! He grew up as an assassin! He was actively trying to grow with Dick's help! How can yall see him as the bad guy?? And not the literal bad guy, (Jason), and the 17 teen year old who literally fought him back btw, (Tim), like old boy did not act victimized the way you people portray. And Jesus for Cass? Cass is just a prop in fanon. So what exactly about this should be fun to me? Like seriously.

#dc comics #batman #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #anti jason todd #anti tim drake #anti batfamily fans #fanon bullshit #bat fans suck #i hate this place!!! #cant read anything!!! #bruce wayne #my posts

[azaarchiive]

☆be mine?; gojo satoru

synopsis; satoru is never second, so why aren’t you with him right now?

notes: valetines treat that’s a day late, sorry guys i got so fucking plastered yesterday but here i am now!

tags: alcohol consumption, rich 18 y/o gojo, jealousy, tiny age gap (between you and random), gn reader, foul language, use of petname (baby), mentions of throwing up, 995 words ❤️ happy valentines guys

satoru was truthfully only here for you and suguru, he was not that fond of parties which was quite conflicting with his persona. it was just an excuse to get drunk and getting drunk weakens a person. plus alcohol tasted yucky to him.

nonetheless, when you wanted to throw a valentines party for all the singles, he just had to come. now, he was heavily regretting that choice as he could see your so called ‘valentines’ here with you.

you see, two days ago, your school was selling roses that you could give to anyone of your choosing for valentines. satoru with his marvellous brain decided he was to give you one, confess his undying love for you and finally make you two happen. you both would be the power couple, the dream team that everyone would envy while you two would snuggle and whisper sweet nothings into each others ears. sadly, that's not what happened.

a junior that had obviously had his eyes on you for a while had come to give you a rose and ask you out. while you had frequently reminded everyone that you were not into him as he had a reputation to be... popular with the girls, it still irked him how you talked to him and was still considering going out on a date with that loser when he was standing right here.

so, he didn't buy the rose. instead, he congratulated you and watched from afar how you two were getting it on in this stupid party with 2000s club music blaring in his ears and a cup of your strong concoction (it was 3/4s vodka and 1/4th sprite) in his hand.

"everyone can see you staring." a voice from behind him spoke, of course he already knew that person was there but was just too angry to face them.

"i'm way better than that loser, like i'm the strongest man alive, i've got money that will last a lifetime and a face that kills. i'm the ideal package!" satoru complained, huffing before finally turning around and taking a large gulp of your valentines special.

"then show her that, you have been here crying and complaining about how you're way better than the junior but she doesn't know that because you're yapping instead of doing." suguru sighed, having to hear the same 'in the strongest and richest' speech from satoru was a little tiring.

"why do i have to prove something that's a fact?" satoru asked frustratingly, taking another swing of the drink.

"ok, we all know you hate drinking so slow down and stop trying to look cool." suguru chuckled, trying to take away satorus drink from him only for him to snatch it back aggressively.

"i do drink! in fact.." satoru chugged down his drink, took sugurus drink and chugged it down also.

"what the fuc-"

"i'll show that little boy what a real man is!" satoru slightly slurred, given that satoru literally never drinks, you're heavy drinker mixer got him quite fucked up very quickly.

suguru watched satoru walk away, debating on whether he should try and salvage the situation.

"a party always needs some entertainment." suguru shrugged, getting a refill before making his way to watch the mess that was about to unfold in front of him.

satoru marched towards you, dragging you onto the couch as he flopped on top of you. you gasped from the sudden attack in shock.

"satoru- what the hell are you doing?!" you asked, trying to push him off of you.

"um, do you need any help?" the junior asked.

"hell no, back off!" satoru exclaimed, causing the junior to jump slightly and run away, he was not about to be purple hollowed on valentine's day.

"no, rui! ugh, satoru you scared him off!" you groaned, finally pushing him next to you as you laid there heaving.

"good, you don't need him." satoru shifted to face you, taking off his sunglasses.

you looked into his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions hit you as those deep

blue eyes stared into yours. you always found him attractive, he was charming and sweet whilst being an utter fool. satoru had a humorous personality and fuck, his million dollar face was worth everything in the world to kiss.

however, you couldn't tell if he thought the same about you. if he thought about the intricacies of your facial structure the way you did and if he thought about scenarios where you both went on dates or watched cheesy romcoms whilst snuggling together.

“leave that poor boy alone.” you muttered, your hand somehow finding its way to his hair. satoru leaned into you, his head on your chest while you played with his white strands.

“not when he’s trying to get with you like you’re not mine.” he muttered back, looking up at your face of shock.

“satoru, you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.” you said, trying more to convince yourself rather than satoru.

“get real, you know for a fact im in love with you. why wouldn’t i be? you’re fucking amazing.” satoru smiled.

“what- i- im-“ you stammered, this was not expected at all.

“it’s ok, i know you feel same way, im amazing as well. so please, don’t go on that date with him to try and substitute him for me.” satoru slurred, holding you tightly as he placed a small peck on your chest.

you felt flustered, heavily flustered. since when was satoru this perceptive? well, you guessed he always has been, you just hoped he wasn’t seeing right through you specifically.

“be my valentines? tomorrow i’ll treat you to a date.” satoru lifted his head, staring right into your eyes again.

“february 15th is such a side chick day.” you joked.

“my favourite day for my favourite side chick then.” satoru nuzzled back into your oddly warm chest as you jokingly slapped his head.

satoru was glad he turned infinity off for this, for you.

“so, you guys are finally together now?” suguru spoke softly, causing you both to jump up in surprise.

“oh my god, i didn’t see you there.” you jumped.

“you stalker.” satoru joked.

“whatever, i was scared that you were gonna embarrass yourself, which you did.” suguru smiled.

“either way, i now have a partner while you’re alone for valentine’s day, haha!” satoru replied.

“don’t be mean.” you scolded satoru.

“sorry baby.” satoru went back into your chest with a gleeful smile on his face.

“i feel sick.” suguru fake retched.

#authors #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk geto #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x you #satorugojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x y/n #valetines #valentines day #happy valentine's day #first time writing jjk help

[suzukiblu]

Day two NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

"Well, you are the plan guy," Kon says, grinning again and pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. "Supreme?" 

"Works for me," Tim says. It's meat and dairy and bread and vegetables and Kon is probably invulnerable to heart disease, so he figures that's basically health food to him, right? Especially if he needs more calories than the average guy. 

Pizza's sure as shit gonna be more satisfying than a protein bar, if nothing else. 

Tim's definitely ordering like, breadsticks or wings or something too. And maybe a two-liter or two. Cinnamon bread. Something. Hell, he'll buy all that and then some if he has to. He's got the money. 

Who the hell decided it was okay to let this happen? Really. Is there literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation? Dubbilex was made by Cadmus too and has his own issues with managing to have an out-of-lab life, Rex Leech is apparently out of the picture, which might be a blessing anyway, Tana Moon is equally MIA, and Superman has apparently lost his entire damn mind, so . . .

There's literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation, is there. There's no irresponsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation. As far as Tim knows, every single other one Kon knows is either Cadmus-employed or a supervillain or just completely uninvested in his existence. 

Maybe Tim should be talking to Red Tornado about this. Is this something he should be talking to Red Tornado about?

. . . sure, that'd help. Red Tornado is about five minutes back into being a person and has Traya and Kathy and the whole team to worry about, and absolutely could handle something like this while also trying to figure out his own shit and keep an eye on all the rest of them too. Sure. That'd work. 

This is a problem, Tim thinks. 

This is a definite problem, in fact. 

He has no idea what to do about this problem, though, so he just orders a truly inadvisable amount of pizza and wings and double-iced cinnamon bread for pickup. They've done weirder than get takeout in the Super-Cycle and they'll do weirder again. Besides, it could use the . . . exercise, or whatever that counts as. Not like the Super-Cycle has muscles, but it does get tired sometimes and seem to appreciate getting out and–well, whatever. That's just something to figure out later, probably. 

Tim really should figure that out, though. And also if the Super-Cycle is gonna be down for going supervillain, because yeah, that's obviously a thing to keep in mind. 

He flies it to the pizza joint, and spends the flight casually grilling Kon about his coworkers and employee benefits and the Cadmus security systems. The answers are: a lot of lab-born clones and too many grown-ass adults who have no excuse not to know better, work-related health care and nothing else, and Kon and Guardian, mostly. And also some random weird death traps and a couple of cameras here and there, apparently, but it all sounds incredibly dated to Tim's ears and it really seems like Kon and Guardian are taking on the lion's share of everything more complicated than watching a feed or flipping on an alarm system. Like, it really does. 

So that's not great. 

"Jesus, man, how much did you order?" Kon snorts with a laugh while Tim's paying the girl at the drive-up window in cash. He doesn't really want to explain this particular expense on the Bat credit card. Generally he doesn't want to explain takeout and junk food on there at all, in fact, though obviously he makes a point of going to Batburger with Steph once a month, just to hear Bruce sigh about it later. Appropriate teenage nonsense and all. He gets the kids' meal and the terrifyingly purple Spoiler shake every time. It tastes like acidic cotton candy. Yes, literally. "Like just the whole menu or what?" 

"Of course I did. I've got a Kryptonian to carry it all for me, don't I?" Tim replies with a smirk he doesn't really feel after everything he's learned today. Everything Kon just told him, because he doesn't see what's wrong with any of it. 

It reminds him of the abused kids he meets on the job who insist they're fine, and they don't need Batman and Robin to save them. 

He wonders if Jason was like that, when Bruce first met him. 

He also wonders if he maybe did over-order a little on the pizza, but worst case scenario the leftovers should fit in the fridge. 

. . . maybe, anyway. Probably. 

Mostly? 

Kon immediately cracks into the cinnamon bread on the flight back because he has absolutely no manners whatsoever, and Tim rolls his eyes at him and tries not to visibly brood over the five-alarm fire burning down his brain right now. 

He just . . . doesn't understand how Superman is apparently just fine with this situation. He doesn't even understand how Kon is fine with this situation, but is increasingly certain that the answer to that might just be that Kon doesn't think he has another option. 

He doesn't have another option, as far as Tim can tell. What would he do, crash at the base and just mooch off everyone else for food and gear and whatever else he needs day-to-day? 

Yeah, not exactly a sustainable lifestyle, that. 

Not even a little bit of one. 

Technically, Tim could just pay for whatever Kon needed, between his allowance and his trust fund and without even taking his Bat-stipend into account, but there is no possible way Kon would ever actually go for that. He's way too proud, and even someone with no pride at all would probably find "please let me pay you to quit your horrible job" a hard pill to swallow from a teammate, much less the leader they only barely recognize the authority of.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young justice #young just us #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby Kon

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

A Table of Contents to all my CoD Men x Reader Fics

My shit was getting disorganized as fuck, so I collected everything I've typed on here and put it into a single post, just to make it easier to find my stuff if you ever choose to. User Accessibility matters!

Note - All of this is 18+ and Mature, but not all of it is Smut

SFW/Fluff // Masterlist

The masterlist to all of the SFW/Fluff One-Shots for Ghost x Reader.

No Good Men Left To Spare // Masterlist

No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. After pushing one too many of his buttons tonight, you and Ghost going off to have a quick smoke turns into something else entirely.

Make Me Beg

Ghost had been curious to see if you could be the one to make him beg for a change, in which to both his pleasure and dismay, you oblige.

Greedy

Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap

Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.

The Lights Stay Off

No Summary :(

NSFW, 18+, Shameless Smut, No Plot, Porn w/out Plot, Sex in the dark, Explicit, Graphic Language, Teasing, Touch-Starved Touching, Embarrassing, First Time Together, Fingering, Sloppy Kisses, Somewhat Rough Sex, slightly Intimate, Ghost is a bit of a dom, Reader's a bit snarky

Ghost Fan Edit

My thirst for this man is endless. I've been thirsty since I was 11 and first laid eyes on him in 2009. He just gets finer each year. I don't think I'd have my mask kink without him.

Now you get to see how rhythmically challenged I am. These are fun to make; once I get better at them I'll be unstoppable (｀∀´)Ψ

I Won't Forget

Short Drabble ~ Your last night with Johnny...

Can You Spot Me?

You decide to reward Soap after finishing a set on the bench press.

NSFW 18+, Explicit, Shameless Smut, Porn w/out Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Gym Sex, Teasing, Fluff, Flirting, Cunnilingus, Blow-Jobs, Cowgirl, P in V, Might be a little tame, but still Graphic Description, no Y/N usage

Greedy (same story as above one in Ghost's section)

Speedracer

Gaz x Reader x Soap

It's not every day Gaz gets to drive fast cars. It's also not every day he gets to race hot strangers on the road either.

SFW, Some swearing, Fluff, Flirting, Banter, Racing, Three-Way flirting, Random, Innocent, Some Car Lingo, Soap and Gaz sharing a single brain cell, Eventual smut in part two, scarcely proofread

Been In Love

After a breakup, Price figures a walk along the beach might make for a good distraction. What he did not expect to find was a strange woman standing off to the shore, who looked as though she were about ready to drown herself at sea.

pt. 0 | pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

Bloodstained Honesty

Wounded, bloody, and just the two of you. A mission gone wrong leads to a long overdue moment between both you and your Captain, perhaps too late to count for anything. Not if either of you two can help it at least.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

Sex Tape ~ Kinktober Prompt

No summary (._. )

NSFW (18+), Shameless Smut, Explicit Detail, Groping, Fingering, Nipple-Play, Oral (Female Receiving), AFAB!Reader Long-Distance, Sex Tape, Scarcely Proofread, Kinktober

Some Days

Drabble ~ Price has a tendency to wake up most mornings before you...

SFW, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Innocent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mornings, Wife Reader, Soft Price, Price is a little mopey, scarcely proofread

Let Me Play You A Song

During a get-together, you and the Captain decide to sneak off for a spell. The intentions were mostly pure. At the start...

Captain Price Fan Edit

My first time making a video like this EVER (ʃᵕ̩̩ ᵕ̩̩). It came out more like a trailer than an edit, but I had so much fun making this. I really hope you like it! *totally not nervous* (　◜◡‾)

Captain Price Fan Edit 2

Control Masterlist

Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Angst, Romance, Drama

You’ve been with Shadow Company long enough to know working alongside 141 on their search for the stolen American missiles wouldn’t be an ordinary assignment. And most importantly, you knew Graves. Shadow Company keeps its allies close, and its enemies closer. When you’re given a job, it gets done without conflict. Without loose ends.

Your true mission is clear to you -- keep an eye on 141 and keep them comfortable. Anything it takes to alleviate suspicion of Shadow Company’s involvement with the missing missiles. This wasn’t about saving lives, this was a deadly game of control, and you intend to do so flawlessly.

Phillip Graves Character Trailer

Deepthroating ~ Kinktober Prompt

Drabble - You decide to pay your commander a little visit during one of his later nights in the office...

Welp, that's that. Thanks ( .-.)

...

Here are links to some of my gaming clips if interested (shameless plug)

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

#masterlist #control #call of duty #modern warfare ii #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mw2022 #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap mwii #soap x reader #captain price x reader #captain price #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #graves x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz x reader #gaz cod

[sc0tters]

Long Gone | Nico Hischier

summary: the downfall of your relationship with Nico is both thick and fast, especially when neither one of you try to stop it.

song: don’t come back - Tate McRae

request: yes/no

warnings: a few swear words, toxic Nico, mentions of alcohol and drinking.

word count: 1.22k

authors note: this one was a bit shorter than the others but that’s because I’m off to bed cause I’m going skydiving in the morning (I wish I was kidding). if you are in a toxic relationship wether it be a platonic or romantic one I can’t stress this enough, please try your best to remove yourself from it and remember that you are loved. If you want to either see more of the celly or be apart of it you can find the playlist here!

pt 2

Nico was ready to throw four years down the drain.

All of the warning bells rung in your head the more you thought about it. For the last three months you were only learning about team events through the other wags. The nights he would go out with the boys drinking you only learnt about his whereabouts of the evening once he got home reeking of alcohol. Your relationship had well and truly gone from being girlfriend and boyfriend to what felt like an awkward roommate agreement.

Until last week you had fought him on every thing he did, the late nights, the lack of care, the not inviting you, every single last thing that he did in an attempt to pull away you had to fight him on. But when you found a necklace in his side of the closet whilst you were doing laundry your heart broke. It wasn’t a piece that you owned and you realised it was bought on the teams trip to Carolina based on the date marked at the top of the receipt.

You wouldn’t have been so hurt by it if you hadn’t just gotten a bottle opener that looked like it came from the airport.

That paired with the fact that he missed lunch in New York with your parents who were there for business that weekend made you officially want to pull your hair out.

You let the door to your apartment slam shut as you swore that you were seething. The amount of emotions that went through your body was enough to make any straight thinking person nearly pass out “Nico!” You yelled as your bags dropped to the floor.

The Swiss man was sat on the couch mindlessly scrolling through his phone “you look interesting,” he commented as he was surprised to see how put together you were for some random Tuesday.

It made you roll your eyes as it took everything in your power to not go ahead and punch him “what the fuck have you been doing?” You asked as you pushed his feet off of the ottoman so that you could sit on it.

The gesture made him furrow his eyebrows “a friend wanted to go for lunch-” he explained as he motioned to the leftovers that were on the kitchen table.

You couldn’t help it when you reached over to hit him but unfortunately for you his reaction timing was too good as he wrapped his hand around your wrist “so I covered for you for nothing?” The scoff that fell from your lips was vile as you struggled to process how he was so okay with what he had done. Nico did nothing more than just wait for you to continue though “lunch with my parents was today.” You sucked at your teeth as you ran your fingers through your hair.

What pissed you off the most was that he didn’t even seem sorry “my bad,” he shrugged as he got up.

You weren’t proud of the borderline temper tantrum type scream you let out as you stood up too “I had to sit there for three fucking hours acting like you’re the best boyfriend in the world.” You pointed out as you marched behind him “when really you’re just a piece of shit.” The latter comment from you got Nicos haggles up as he was quick to back you against a wall.

His laugh was a dark chuckle “yeah, what’s so shitty about me?” He asked as he ran his fingers through your hair as he tucked it behind your ear.

Small, no tiny, maybe even minuscule was how you felt in that very moment “I know about her!” It was like you were proud of the fact that you had caught him in the cheating act.

Nico’s once irritating chuckle now turned into an amused giggle “you think I’m cheating on you?” Sure you weren’t his favourite thing right now but there wasn’t another woman in his bed or in his life like that.

It hurt you how nonchalant he was about it all “I know about the necklace.” If this was any other time you could have found his quick demeanour change amusing “you searching through my stuff?” That’s how it always seemed to be. Anytime there was a fight between you two even if you should have only held like twenty percent of the blame it was always flipped onto you “I’m sorry.” You apologised as your head dropped.

But before you could say anything else Nico was already in your shared bedroom and had locked the door behind him.

Since then you had gone pretty quiet when you were at home but most of the time you spent at a friends place. The girls had all been fabulous as they helped you cope with Nico. It surprised them just as much as it did you when he started pulling away as everyone thought he was close to proposing to you, not kicking you out of your apartment.

You didn’t know if it was a pro or a con that the girls knew you so well that they could see that you weren’t in a good relationship anymore. It was effecting you mentally and nobody should have to walk on eggshells around their partner 24/7.

And that is how you all landed in an elevator to the top floor of your apartment building where you and Nico lived. One of the girls had seen on Jacks story that the Swiss man was out at another bar and that was why they decided to go clear your stuff out then.

Yes your friend group had smarter plans before but you were ladies with a few bottles of wine in your system and were all now ready to take on the world.

The reason why they had mainly come with though was because they all knew that it you saw Nico then it would be all over and you’d probably be apologising to him once more for something you didn’t do.

It was all going so well, your things had been packed away into the multiple suitcases that the girls brought with them as you all knew that it would be easier to tug those suitcases downstairs than it would be to carry boxes down.

Your heart sank as the front door opened “what is this?” Nico slurred as he was beyond drunk at this point.

There was a squeeze at your hand as your best friend sent you a smile in an attempt to give you some encouragement. You nodded as you stepped towards the Devils captain “this is for all the shit you have put me through the last few months.” You had to raise your finger to signal that you weren’t done talking to him “this is goodbye Nico.” You explained as you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

Your tongue darted across your lower lip as you stared at him knowing that it was the last time you were going to see him those close for a while “so by the time you sober up I’ll be long gone.” You promised before you left the boy dumbfounded and in silence.

By the time the next morning came you had already made good on your promise.

You were long gone.

#nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #oneshots #imagines #ambers 150 celly #amber writes fics

[pedgito]

𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: your career was built on luck and fortunate circumstances, but that was bound to run out at some point. enter eddie munson, rockstar extraordinaire, the reason for your life being thrust into chaos—but, fake it til you make it, right?

cw: 18+ (minors dni), fem!reader, small age gap (25/29), establish friendships with steve & reader (hints of musician!steve), enemies to…something, fake relationships, mentions of misogyny toward reader, awkward first meetings, mentions of substance abuse, social media posts inserted through the fic (texts), fingering and handjobs, drinking and messing around inebriated, use of rings for nefarious purposes, lots of teasing and cocky eddie. i might have missed something so lmk!

word count: 12k

The call happened on a random Sunday morning, following a long night of partying with not nearly enough alcohol, head still pounding from the music and flashing lights of the club. You buried your head further into your pillow, swiped the screen to answer, and muffled a gruff, “What?” into the air.

Thus thrusting you into the most ridiculous conversation you’ve ever witnessed, immediately pushing from your bed and snatching the phone between your fingers, staring at the black screen of your phone, the monotone voice of your agent boring through the receiver—this had to be a joke.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t—and it’s how you ended up standing in the office of your show’s executive team, arms crossed firmly over your chest as they laid out the plan. The fucking plan. The seemingly full proof, highly thought out plan that would not only boost the ratings for the premiere through the roof, but would also bring in an insane amount of attention to the other party.

Him. Eddie Munson, who stood on the other side of the small room, similarly positioned and not believing a single word of shit spilling out of their mouths. If there was anyone who you could care less about, or even despise the idea of having a fake relationship with—it was him. 

Known womanizer, constantly getting caught with groupies after shows, one scandal after another, it was like putting a wrecking ball to a career you had spent a decade building. You didn’t care how good the money sounded, the benefits to it, none of it.

“Absolutely fucking not,” You reply snidely, earning wide eyes from your team, and an even more surprised look from the higher-ups seated at the table, all buttoned up their suits and poised to seem professional, “—not a chance, no.”

“Listen—“ One of the men starts, pen flipping nervously in his hand. He had to be new, less experienced in this world, his voice shaking as he spoke, “just hear us out.”

“No, I heard you,” You chuckle lightly, pointing vaguely in the direction of Eddie, “you want me to sign your stupid little contract and tie myself to a man who, just recently, was caught hanging out with underage girls after a concert—“

“Hey, that’s not my fault—“ Eddie defends weakly, “I can’t control what my bandmates do.”

“You’re literally the lead guitarist and singer,” You say defensively, “—that shit directly affects you.”

How he didn’t realize that was beyond you, his face caught up in a sudden realization, he stayed silent. 

“The ratings will be record breaking,” It was one of the main producers, offering up a small morsel of positivity, “brand deals, appearances—this stuff has worked in the past.”

“How?” Eddie asks curiously, catching your pointed gaze, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. He shakes it off, turned toward the group of men seated at the table. “What do we have to do?”

“Public appearances, obviously.” They begin, “We’ll stage some candid pictures by tipping off paparazzi, maybe even some interviews, it’s all strictly professional—it just depends on how much you two want to sell it.”

“We’ve never been seen in public together before,” You say defensively, “how will that look?”

“I don’t think that’ll matter.” 

“His band is covering the opening song for the show—isn’t that suspicious?” You ask, trying to find any reason to hope this plan would fall apart.

“People eat that stuff up,” Your agent provides softly, trying not to step on any toes, “I don’t think they’ll care.”

“I don’t think it’s a horrible idea,” Eddie says with a slight falter in his voice, just as unsure as you were, but still hanging onto the small glint of optimism, “but it can’t be one-sided—we both have to be all in or it’s going to crash and burn pretty quick.”

“It’s a terrible idea,” You add, “How the hell do you fake a relationship?”

“You do it on television, don’t you?” He asks with a hint of sarcasm, far too inappropriate for the situation at hand. “Is it really that hard?”

“With you?” You ask redundantly, “Yes.”

“This is pointless.” He relents, hands thrown up in defeat until they fall back to his waist, standing like a petulant child, annoyed at his inability to one-up you.

“Look, I get it—you two hate each other.” The producer interrupts, glancing slowly between you both. “It’ll be maybe a few months—that’s it. Long enough to grab some good ratings and bring in some press and then you two can have your dramatic break up. You two don’t even need to interact outside of what’s contractually obligated.”

There’s a long silence, neither of you answering or looking in the direction of anyone. Eddie didn’t have anything to lose—but you had just about everything. It was the perks of being America’s hottest rockstar; do whatever you want and get away with—also just the perks of being a man. For you, one wrong misstep and you were out, permanently.

“Look, you’ve had two failed pilots over the past year, right?” The producer inquires, slyly shoving the small stack of papers and a pen your direction. “Another one and you’ll probably be blacklisted—this is guaranteed success. You can’t pass it up.”

And you hated that it was the truth, heart pounding angrily in your chest. Maybe if you had time—time to really think it through, it wouldn’t be so bad. But, there wasn’t time for that. Your show was premiering in two weeks, Eddie was preparing to leave for a tour across the country, the only thing you two lacked was time. 

“I can back out at any moment?” You ask hesitantly, glancing over at Eddie who remained mostly emotionless, ringed fingers gripping his waist still. “No problem?”

“You won’t want to,” The man tells you, “not after the media swarm picks it up. But—if you really want to, yes. You’re not obligated to stick to this relationship, but you have to make it seem believable.”

“As in?”

“A break-up, if needed. By signing this, you’re signing an NDA—this is private and if you intend to break it, there will be consequences.” 

It sounded like a threat, Eddie picked up on it too—surprisingly interrupting the conversation. 

“Like?”

“It’s basically signing away any rights you have to telling anyone about this outside of this room—if you break the rules of an NDA, suing is on the table, for either of you.”

You hated all the formal jargon, rolling your eyes at his drawn out, half threatening explanation. You snatch the pen, signing the paper lazily before tossing the pen toward Eddie. He’s startled for a moment, quickly recovering to grab the pen and do the same.

“I hope you realize how exploitative this is.” You remark, shoving the paper back at the men, grinning like the greedy sharks they were, already wet-dreaming over the amount of success and money they were bound to pull in.

“It’s just business, sweetheart.”

You grimace at the word, bile pooling in your throat at the tone and wandering eyes of a man who surely had a lot more power than you. 

For your career, it was a mantra you’d repeat in your head until the day you died.

The elevator ride down is long, silent, and awkward—a lack of either of your teams as you stood beside each other in the small confines of the four glass walls, descending down the several flights at a snail's pace. Eddie speaks first, much to your dismay that he even decides to speak at all.

“I really didn’t know.” Eddie says to you, eyes trained toward his scuffed up sneakers, “The girls—I didn’t know they were underage. I didn’t—I’m not like that.”

You chuckle quietly to yourself, “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I don’t care.”

“I just—I didn’t want you to think I was some creep.” He says defensively, voice soft despite his hardened features. “The guys—they let it get to their heads, they make stupid choices.”

“And you haven’t?” You counter.

“I have—but not like that,” Eddie replies, fingers fiddling idly with the ring of his left hand, “I went to rehab—I’m clean now, but I’m not like that. I promise”.

Eddie never meant for the drugs to overtake his life for that short, brief amount of time—but it did and he regretted it daily. It wasn’t him anymore, though. Eddie could say that proudly. He enjoyed his life, his career—he cherished every moment of being on stage and performing, meeting fans, it’s what drove him. 

And you don’t want to pry, so you leave it be. Your hands shuffle behind your back, posed on the silver handrail as the elevator shook gently, you tensed.

Eddie notices but doesn’t say anything, figuring you’d probably bark another insult his way. He could manage the semantics though—faking a relationship, how hard could it be?

“We should exchange numbers.” 

You look at him weirdly, eyebrows pulled up in confusion. 

“You realize I have your number already, don’t you?” You ask. 

Eddie pulls back slightly, head tilted up in thought. It didn’t make sense, he’s never even spoken more than a few words to you outside of work, mutual friends, it didn’t seem possible.

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoff lightly, pulling out your phone to send him a quick text, one simple emoji, middle finger poised in an effort to send a very clear message. “Steve introduced me to you two years ago.”

Still wasn’t ringing a bell—though most of that time was blurry.

“You tried to ask me on a date,” You explain with amusement, “I said no—so you proceeded to ask me if you were down to ‘just fuck’,” You mock with dramatic air quotes, “I never deleted your number, but that’s only because I give it out to the guys that try to hit on me now.”

It dawns on him then, the absurd amount of phone calls from strange people—sometimes the unassuming person you could give a fake name to, sometimes not, Eddie never pieces it together, not until now.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Eddie asks with a slight disbelief, “That’s why my phone is constantly blowing up? I thought it was just a bunch of spam bullshit. God, you’re evil.”

You shrug, a devious smile spreading across your face as the elevator pulls to a stop in the parking garage, you step out first.

“Watch your back, Eddie Munson.” You warn, “You try to destroy my career and I’ll take yours down twice as fast.”

It’s an empty threat, but Eddie knows you're capable. 

“There’s no way this is going to work.” You grumble, hands shoved deep into the pockets of your sweater, held snug under the arm of Eddie, who’s trademark leather jacket stretched over your back—it made your neck itch, shoulders wiggling slightly in discomfort. His sunglasses tipped over his nose, eyes scanning the surrounding streets, catching glimpse of a few poorly sneaking paparazzi, cameras posed at the ready. 

Eddie wasn’t approached often in public, mostly because he’d kept up a reputation that it wasn’t a good idea—he liked to keep his private life separated from whatever this life was, and it was clear; to his friends, his family, and anyone who knew who he was. People respected it to a degree, but by agreeing to this, it felt like he was throwing that all away. He didn’t even know why—the potential benefits sounded nice momentarily, but what was he really gaining from any of it—other than eternal misery from having to deal with your constant negativity toward the situation. 

“I’d think twice about that.” He motions sneakily toward your left and you see it too, instantly freezing at the sight, like you’d been caught—which you had, but not for the reasons you were feeling. “Chill out,” Eddie says quietly, “just walk.”

You fisted your hands in your pocket, chill air stinging your face. You weren’t nearly as famous as Eddie—but enough to be noticed, it was weird to not be approached, in fact, it was almost like people were avoiding you. Eddie really did have a presence about him—maybe it wasn’t a terrible idea to keep him around if he repelled everyone so easily. 

“Remember what they said,” Eddie comments into your hair, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, subtly posing for the photo as the camera clicked in the distance, “one kiss for the shot and we can go, but it has to be good.”

“This is ridiculous.” 

Eddie laughed at your pessimism, stopping at the crosswalk. You couldn’t bare the thought of making the first move, too riddled with nerves to pull it off believably, so Eddie takes the lead, nudging your face with the hand draped over your shoulder.

Your face tilts toward his, his fingers tilting your head up slightly, lips pressed against his in a chaste, formal kiss—nothing different from the kisses you’ve had on screen. It wasn’t all the bad, actually—and if things remained like this, maybe you could handle it. 

“Hold it.” Eddie mumbles against your lips, your eyes fallen shut as he stills—surely they’ve gotten the picture by now, but you hear the familiar click of a phone camera and you quickly realize why; Eddie really planned to sell it and it was working.

You pull back with a fake, sweet smile, eyes riddled with a restrained amount of disgust that only Eddie could see—his eyes returned the sentiment, pulling back with a toothy grin, tongue peeking out between his teeth slightly. The act continues halfway down the block—light touches, looks of endearment as the cameras push in now, less restrained, questions being thrown at you haphazardly. 

The hold Eddie takes on you is real, sturdy—it felt protective and safe, and truly he felt that way. He knew how vicious and bizarre paparazzi and people could get, keeping you close by and away from grabbing hands and eager flashes of the camera. It all ramped up quickly, a crowd gathering down the busy road of the shopping mall. Eddie ignored it all, leading you toward the designated black SUV at the end of street, gently shoving you inside to follow after, breathing a sigh of relief when you were both finally inside. 

He taps on the window—it’s his driver, because of course he had one. “We’re good. Take us back.” He says simply, hands squeezed together in his lap as he fidgets again, something you couldn’t help but notice. He did it often.

“God, that was horrible.” You complain under your breath, head resting back against the seat, eyes pulled up toward the roof of the car. “And super fucking overwhelming.”

“Never dealt with that before?” Eddie asks curiously, eyes glancing up toward you for a brief moment. “Look—I was trying to make it seem real enough, sorry.”

You roll your eyes, looking over at him with a blank gaze, his expression just as unreadable. “I have dealt with it—but not on that level. It's almost like inducing a panic attack almost, feeling like you can’t breathe.”

You pause for a moment, feeling a slight tinge of guilt.

“It was believable,” You admit, “I didn’t mind it, it’s like kissing a co-star, I guess.”

“It is acting after all,” Eddie shrugs, “you’re pretty good at it, I assume.”

“Have you never—“ You linger on the question, not wanting to sound too self-centered, but you feel obligated since you know so much about him, whether by force or by your own guilty self-indulgence. 

“I barely have time to relax.” Eddie admits. “I eat, sleep, do my work and it repeats. I haven’t taken a vacation since I started.”

“What?” You ask with an immense amount of shock, “Are you serious—“

There's a ding of a notification on your phone. A few seconds later, another. Then Eddie’s, his hand pulling it from his pocket roughly. Your eyes lock, fingers swiping at the screen simultaneously as you hold your breath, not entirely sure what to expect. 

“Well,” Eddie begins.

Met with a similarly toned, “Oh my god.”

Both of you glanced at the article, smack on the cover of one of the biggest celebrity publications in the online word, headline reading—

INFAMOUS ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON HAS FOUND NEW LOVE IN STARLET ACTRESS?

The article is plastered with picture after picture, but the one that really mattered, the kiss—it was right there, front and center. It was gaining traction quickly, the sudden influx of your social media being bombarded with notifications.

“You might want to turn them off,” Eddie suggests, scrolling haphazardly through his phone, like it was just another day, “otherwise your phone is gonna be unusable.”

You scroll through the list of trending tags, eyes practically bulging out of your head at the number one spot. Albeit, it was just Eddie’s name—but every post was a picture of both of you, snuggled up close, people wondering and listing off a mountain of questions.

To be fair, you weren’t nearly as well known as Eddie—so most of it was geared toward finding out exactly who you were. But, the other questions revolved around how long this had been going on, how it had managed to fly under the radar, and just how serious you two were—it was all comical, in retrospect, knowing what you knew. 

“How are you so normal about this?” You ask with a pitch to your voice, dealing with the increasing flurry of texts from friends and family suddenly interested in your personal life. “These people are fucking quick—holy shit.”

“It’s incredible how quickly things change, isn’t it?” Eddie asks knowingly, having been at the brunt of it multiple times. “Give it a few hours, it will die out a little—not by much, but it’ll be more manageable.”

“I didn’t really think everything out this far.” You admit, trying to think up responses to people you care about, people you never planned to lie to. Your fingers hover, but nothing comes out. In a moment of vulnerability, you look at him.

“What do I do?”

Eddie smirks softly, tossing his phone to the side. He motions with his forefingers, beckoning your phone toward his hand. You hesitate for a half second before handing it over, letting him work away at the keyboard, typing furiously. 

“There,” He says with finality when his fingers finally come to stop, placing the phone back into your waiting hands, “that should work.”

‘I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll talk more when I’m ready.’

You drop your phone, giving him a defeated look, face pulled down in a frown.

“My family is going to think I’m hiding a pregnancy if I send that,” You tell him honestly, “I need something less serious sounding.”

“You’ll figure it out,” He assures you, “Act it up, right?”

“But, this is my life.”

“Not when you’re with me,” Eddie counters, proving a point, “we’re just playing an exaggerated version of ourselves, if you think about—you know, maybe I could take on acting after this, depending on how believable I can make it.”

He’s joking, but you can’t be bothered to laugh.

“Shit—maybe even a guest spot on your show.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” You smile meanly, writing out a quick dismissive text to the eagerly waiting recipients in your phone, “I’d never let that happen.”

“I can be very persuasive.” Eddie responds, much to your ultimate dismay, wishing he’d stay quiet. “I mean, you’re kinda mimicking my life in a way, although there’s no way you could handle that lifestyle—actors are always entitled.”

Your mouth falls open, an offense taken by his line of conversation. 

“It’s a good story line,” You reply defensively, “I can play it up better than you ever could, regardless of it being real.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise slightly, as if proving his point by your response. 

You side-eye him with annoyance, arms crossed over your chest as you recline back, suffering through the long, bumpy ride back to the office, dying to be out of Eddie’s presence.

“I’m not entitled.” You say softly, “I don’t think you understand how hard it is for women—we can’t even try to defend ourselves.”

And he doesn’t know, he can’t even compare—he’s always gotten off relatively easy, a gentle slap on the wrist. He wouldn’t even be able to imagine half of the problems you’ve had to deal with. But, that’s just it—they weren’t his problems. Just as similar as his problems not being your own; you couldn’t be more polar opposite, at this point. 

“I have this weird feeling.” You tell him after a long silence, hesitantly.

“Like things are about to get crazy?” Eddie answers for you, feeling that impending tension and doom of yours and his reality. 

You nod slightly.

“Me too.”

Unfortunately, it was only the beginning of a dangerous, winding road that would upend your life, career, and everything you had left to hold onto.

The media does swarm significantly, overwhelmingly.

It’s two weeks post kiss picture and the growth on your accounts and attention in your life had turned into a frenzy, some sickness that you weren’t prepared to handle. But, it’s the big night of the premiere for your show—the cast, producers, huge names in acting, and more importantly, all of Corroded Coffin would be in attendance. As far as you knew, Eddie hadn’t told a soul, neither had you.

But, neither of you had talked much to each other in return, aside from the occasional ridiculous headline that gave you both a good laugh —unfortunately, with such a big appearance tonight, you took the initial leap and texted him first.

Eddie calls you then, his contact name showing up on your phone, awaiting a tense FaceTime. You swipe to answer, catching the dizzying fury of hands as they worked around him, plucking at his well-formed hair, curls more defined than usual. He fiddles with his sleeve, alerting you to the fact that he wasn’t even holding his phone. He had a well-oiled team working behind the scenes, making him look presentable. Meanwhile, you sat curled on your bed, still shuffling through a small selection of appropriate outfits; it felt ridiculous.

“How are you not ready yet?” Eddie asks with a lilt of annoyance, despite his notorious mark of being late, whether on purpose or accidentally. “We have to be there in an hour.”

“My hair’s done—my makeup,” You motion toward your face obviously, “I’m just stuck on trying to pick out something to match.”

“Where’s your team?” Eddie asks, “Like, your stylist and shit?”

“Eddie,” You deadpan, “I don’t have one. I do this stuff myself.”

“Why?” His face pulls up in confusion, unable to grasp the concept of it. “Nevermind—show me what you’ve got.”

You glance at the phone with a fair amount of shyness. You didn’t have anything, nothing that would work well enough. A black, slick suit over a sheer shirt, the smallest sliver of his chest peeking through—trademark rings shoved on his fingers; he never took them off.

“Is it too late to cancel?” You ask with a grown, Eddie eyes turning up in frustration, nearly rolling back in his head. He laughs, pointing off camera somewhere.

“Do you still have that rack with you?” He asks an unseen person, “Yeah—no, further down. Not that one—no—yeah, that’s it.”

You watched with apt attention, his mysterious mind at work. He yanks the phone away from whoever was holding it, pulling at the cigarette tucked behind his ear, shoving it between his lips. There’s a lot of shuffling and then an eye-blinding brightness as he steps outside, hair windblown as he squints to stare at his screen.

“I’ll send you my location,” He tells you, a familiar flick of a lighter as he leans down to light the end of his cigarette, a slow drag as his lips pucker around it, “don’t be late—we have to arrive together, so we’ll leave from here.”

“You’re really bossy,” You grumble, shoving yourself from the bed and toeing on your shoe—Eddie smirks, “stop that.”

“Just hurry.” He tells you lightheartedly, swiftly ending the call.

The ride to his place is short, but grueling—stuck in the middle of some of the worst traffic you’ve ever experienced, it didn’t help that he wasn’t far from the venue, the chaos was evident and only made you panic further.

When you finally make it into his long, winding driveway, it’s like a small moment of peace, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car, one deep breath after another. The silence is quickly interrupted by a text from Eddie, another impatient reminder.

You sigh audibly, making the quick trip to his front door and pressing on the doorbell with a poorly manicured finger—it was something you overlooked, but you didn’t think it would matter much—all anyone really cared about was Eddie Munson. 

You weren’t expecting to be face to face with him, waiting for one of his assistants to answer the door, but now he’s standing there, a smile plastered over his face. 

You pull your face up in subtle disgust, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m trying to get into character,” Eddie replies with a soft chuckle, motioning a grandiose wave to lead you inside, “—you should too.”

“I will after I see what you’re making me wear.” You comment absently, glancing around his home curiously. 

Home was…generous. It was a mansion, a massive step up from your downtown apartment—you couldn’t even imagine the amount of rooms, expensive furniture, pointless items. 

Eddie noticed, “I’d give you a tour.” He tells you honestly, trying carefully not to crease his suit, expensive loafers tapping against the intricate tile, “But, we don’t have a lot of time.”

You make a small noise, Eddie can’t decipher it. He’s handed the dress during your distraction—a sheer dress with a black bodice covering your more intimate parts, long sleeves cuffing at the wrists, nearly floor length as it led a slit up the side. You turn to look, eyeing it suspiciously. The heels are just as intimidating, a mess of lace that you were bound to get tangled up in. 

“Trust me.” He says, eyes glancing up at you pointedly. “They’ll help.”

He nods at the small team of people—stylists and assistants, primed and ready to go. 

“So, you’re dressing me then?” You ask with a soft laugh, “I didn’t know you were into fashion like that.”

“I’m not,” He shakes his head, “not really—but I’ve learned what works—now go, seriously.”

And for once, you don’t put up a fight, letting the strangers lead you off to an enclosed room.

They work quickly, managing to somehow fix your half-assed attempt at hair and makeup—you weren’t used to being grand or extra, just barely making a statement, it’s how you skated by so easily, never drawing attention to yourself when it wasn’t needed. But with Eddie, that wasn’t possible. 

There’s a soft knock on the door after the fury ends, things finally calming down, “Yeah?” Your voice is soft, nervous.

“The driver’s here,” Eddie says behind the door. “Is she ready?” 

You huff to yourself in amusement at his lack of addressing you, “She’s ready.” You reply snarkily, hearing the faint turn of the doorknob, his full figure coming into view.

Eddie looks smug, proud of himself. “Don’t say it—“ You begin, taking his outstretched hand hesitantly, letting him do a slow turn to take in the full outfit.

Eddie shakes his head in indifference, “I wasn’t,” He tells you, “These lips are sealed.”

You weren’t seeking any type of approval, but you couldn’t ignore that nagging feeling of hearing his opinion, wondering how loud his thoughts were—if they were as harsh as the things that fell from his mouth.

And the reality doesn’t hit you until you’re pulling up at the event, an overwhelming crowd already gathered along the guardrails—it wasn’t your first time experiencing it, but that attention felt magnified, every single movement being analyzed. Eddie seems calm, as expected, and you hate it.

Eddie speaks to your nerves, watching you scoot near the edge of the seat, squeezed in beside him in the backseat as you peered out the window.

“You don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to,” He reminds you softly, arms slung over the back of your seat, “they’re like vultures—but they’ll only take what you give them.”

You avert your eyes away, pushing back in the seat until you hit his arm, jumping slightly at the contact. He pulls away, trying to respect your boundaries. Despite your mutual friends and awkward run-ins, you two were practically strangers. He didn’t want to overstep where he shouldn’t, even if the situation was unorthodox and special, he still had enough self awareness. 

“I’ll stay with you, if you want.” He offered—he wasn’t sure if it was necessarily allowed, given his obligations to make appearances with his bandmates, but he didn’t care too much. “Just say the word.”

You nod slowly, “Okay—okay, yeah.”

You weren’t prepared for the magnitude, the door opening to a flurry of flashing camera lights and loud noises, it was a storm of rapid media attendees and celebrities. But, you mask it somehow, by some goddamn miracle, and push on. 

Eddie leads you down the carpet initially, arm hung loosely around your hip, rings grazing the inside of your wrist. It jerks you back to reality, forcing a joyful smile on your face—you play into it, fingers hugging over the outside of his own hand, dancing along the jewelry carefully. You could fake a smile easily, but words—you were at a loss.

It was the last thing you two cared about, a backstory. But, it was also the most important—and while Eddie may be an expert at bullshitting his way through life, you were terrible. 

Eddie fakes a small kiss against your temple, nose burying into your hair as he speaks loudly, still barely audible over the noise. 

“Still with me?” He asks.

You turn to him with a sickly sweet smile, nodding with a force. 

Eddie scoffs in amusement, hand dipping down to your back slowly. “Good—get ready.” He instructs, not giving you much of a chance to prepare before he’s dipping you slightly, leg pulled up around his waist, fingers held carefully along your thigh as he pulls you in, kisses you deep, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

Eddie lifts you up just as quick and you’re forced to hide your shock and abhorrent disapproval at his antics—it was fully his personality, wild and shocking—but it worked, the crowd cheering with even more intensity. 

“You’re dead.” You smile kindly, still reeling from your racing heart, “Never do that again.”

Eddie laughs tensely, arm finding its place around you again, leading you toward the line of interviewers with haste, ready for the assault of obligated professional and personal questions. 

You’re great at talking about your work—it surprises him and all he can do is watch in stunned silence, praising not only the show but his work; it didn’t take much research to gather up most of his discography and background, it was work after all—and you were damn good at it. 

But, it inevitably hits you.

“So, the world is curious; how did this become a thing?”

This being you and Eddie, together, as a couple—a thing.

“We’re trying to keep things private,” Eddie offers nicely, a stark contrast to his abrasive manner, “but we met a while back—and stuff took off from there. I don’t want to speak for my lady, but we’re happy—that’s all that matters.”

You take a silent breath of relief, quickly recovering to add, “Really happy.” You say, voice filled with a fake sense of adoration, grasping tightly at the jacket of his suit. 

The rest of the night is filled with the same monotonous questions, repeating yourself constantly, but it’s your job and you can deal with it—but to say that you weren’t relieved when you finally stepped foot into the theater adjoining the event; well, that would be a lie. 

It all seemed believable enough, and you weren’t feeling hostile toward Eddie in the moment, despite his outrageous act of kissing you for the public, bound to make headlines the next morning, if not already—it was all easier than you expected and if things kept up like this, it would all be over in no time. 

“I’m getting weird deja vu right now,” Eddie speaks absently, following closely behind you into the packed theater, “—this is—“

“The same place you met me in two years ago,” You tell him, turning haphazardly over your shoulder to look at him, loose ringlets curls following over his face as he leaned in to hear you, “—and then tried to turn me into a random hookup.”

“Oh, like you’ve never done it,” He bickers in response, defending his previous actions steadfast—frankly, it was a little embarrassing that he thought his game was that good, “why are you so bitter about it?”

“I’m not,” You laugh slightly, “you were hammered and couldn’t even look at me straight—I ended up going home with someone else that night.”

Eddie balks slightly at the admission, earning a dramatic eye roll from you in return. 

“Women can have casual sex too,” You remind him, head still thrown over you shoulder as you looked at him, “it’s not just me—“

Eddie was too distracted by you to witness the collision at first or even prevent it, bodies colliding harshly as he reached out to grab you, pulling you to him.

The unassuming victim in this situation isn’t even you—it’s the opposite person who crashed into you, a man—younger, meeker, clearly intimidated by Eddie’s presence as he backs away quickly, barking a squeaky apology. It isn’t until you turn to see Eddie’s face that you realize why, his face scrunched up in anger.

“Sorry,” You quickly apologize, pushing away from him to squeeze through the aisle and take your seat, he follows silently behind you, “I’m really uncoordinated, obviously.”

“It’s not you,” Eddie brushes you off slightly, “—kid’s been following us all night, he’s probably a journalist.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, so Eddie elaborates.

“He’s either trying to get information on me,” Which seemed likely, “or you,” less likely, “or on our relationship.”

“I thought we were doing a good job,” You reply honestly, watching Eddie’s eyes linger out into the crowd, landing on something in particular, your eyes follow—Eddie was good at this stuff, it freaked you out too much. The younger kid was staring back for a moment, before averting his eyes in slight shame at having been caught, “I guess not.”

“People’s jobs are to pick at this shit,” Shit being—you and him, “you always have to be aware—always.”

You shuffle in your seat, attempting to scoot closer, lights turning down—you can barely see Eddie now, just a faint glow against the outline of his face. 

“That’s good—I’m going to put my arm around you,” Eddie instructs softly, “look—when we’re out in public, we have to be on. There’s always going to be someone watching.”

“You make it seem like you’ve done this before.” You comment with a faint hint of snark, leaning into his touch with guarded weight, “how do you know so much?”

“I’ve never not had a relationship ruined by the public,” He says admittedly, “you pick up on things.”

You don’t press on the admission or let your eyes linger, face held steadily angled at the screen as you spoke. 

“Well, at least one of us is a professional at faking it.”

There’s a deeper meaning to it all, something just below the surface, begging to be scratched at, Eddie shrugs it off. He gives a small head shake, a friendly laugh, and the rest of the night is spent in tense silence—he’s never been more eager to be cooped up in his home, away from the limelight and peering eyes. 

Fortunately for you, that night is the best bout of sleep you ever receive, in the post bliss of a high note in your life and career—it’s like things couldn’t get better, but surely they had to level out at some point.

They do, sadly. Your phone buzzes off the bedside table, clambering to the floor with a loud slap, it startled you awake as you fished blindly for it..

Another call from Eddie—he clearly hated texting, calling you at nearly eight in the morning. You rubbed at your tired eyes and swiped to answer, greeted with the deep, gruff voice of his. It shouldn’t stop you in your tracks the way that it does, but you can’t help it.

“Why are you calling me this early?” You complain, shoving your wild bed-head hair out of your face, squinting at the screen. “Are you throwing in the towel?”

“No,” He says with annoyance, “have you not checked online at all?”

“Eddie—I just woke up,” You tell him, staring at his face through the screen. He was still in bed too, shirtless from what you could see, hair mussed and messy from sleep, “what’s happening now?”

“I’ll send you the link,” He says, voice muffled as he shifts around, you receive a message a few seconds later, clicking in the hyperlink that brings you to a page, headline plastered in large black text—

ALL FOR SHOW? DATING FOR RATINGS AND VIEWS, ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON OF CORRODED COFFIN CAUGHT IN ANOTHER WILD SCANDAL.

“You’re fucking kidding—” You groan, scrolling down the page.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Eddie tells you, gaze boring through the screen as he watches you, you glanced up sparingly, “do you see it?”

It dawns on you then, “That fucking guy,” You shout excessively, sitting up in your bed, “what the fuck is wrong with people?”

“Do you understand why it has to be taken so seriously now?” Eddie asks, like a soft scolding. Your eyes narrow but he continues, “I don’t care if you hate me—but we agreed to this, we have to make it work.”

“So, what?” You ask flippantly, hand thrown down dramatically against your blanket, “Do I move in with you and start following you around like some pathetic housewife?”

Eddie makes a face of faux consideration, but he quickly wipes it away when he sees your face, scrunched up in frustration. 

“I’m going on tour soon,” Eddie explains, “so, we won’t even be around each other much anyways and you’ll have an excuse—but—maybe—we might go on a date or something.”

“Or something?” You ask with an emphasis on the word.

Despite your obvious distaste for him, you didn’t agree to anything other than what was necessary—public appearances, interviews, that was it. Dates—absolutely fucking not.

“Something to cease the doubt,” Eddie explains, moving to prop himself up on his elbow, the phone shifts and is propped up against something, his chest shifting as he leaned over to grab at something—his cigarettes, you realize when he comes back into frame, “a date—or a sex tape if you really want to cut all the shit out.”

Your silence is deafening and Eddie chuckles loudly, lighting the cigarette tucked between his lips.

“I’m fucking with you, sweetheart.” Eddie says warmly, eyes squinting as he blew out the smoke, you tensed as if it would reach you, the small endearment making your stomach twist in annoyance, “I’m just saying a date might help, out in public, just us—“

“We need to figure out a backstory,” You interrupt, “I can’t keep basing everything off of your lame excuse of ‘not wanting to talk about’,” Your finger raises in air quotes, mocking his deep voice.

Eddie makes a soft noise, a silent laugh as his body shakes.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask, bothered by his lack of concern.

“Nothing,” He says lowly, “I’ll talk to you later—I’ve got a meeting in an hour.”

“Whatever,” You reply halfheartedly, “just figure it out.”

You hang up with a cold, brisk goodbye, forcing yourself to begin your day following the rude awakening.

It’s spent mostly in long, grueling phone calls—meetings with agents, adjusting your schedule, all the necessary boring stuff that you hated about this lifestyle—interrupted briefly by the occasional texts from Eddie.

The first one is fine, you’re not really bothered by it.

But then they’re more frequent, less pointed toward a certain objective, and maybe Eddie was just attempting small talk, but you really didn’t have the time.

You huff a loud sigh, placing your phone face down on the table, browsing through computer to answer emails, typing away furiously when another buzz comes through, breaking your focus completely. 

“I’m going to kill him.” You mumble to yourself, flipping the phone over to glance at the message, typing out a snarky reply. 

Okay, maybe it was a bit much—but you couldn’t be bothered to care, annoyed with the situation you’d wrapped yourself up in, even if it was partly your fault.

Eddie never responds and it helps you feel satisfied that you’ve finally gotten in the last word—unfortunately, it’s short-lived.

You sent your address to him earlier that day, knowing there was no way to weasel your way out of the date—it was all necessary, it’s what you kept telling yourself. 

Your head is shoved in your closet, searching for a pair of shoes when the voice startles you from behind, causing you to bump your head painfully.

“Ow, fuck,” You wince, pulling away to peer behind you, face falling immediately, “Dude, what are you doing in here?”

“Your assistant let me in,” He answers simply, motioning with his thumb to the door, “—they said you’d be up here.”

“So you couldn’t wait downstairs?” 

Eddie shakes his head, reaching in his pocket for something.

“Here,” He says, pulling the dangling chain from his pocket and placing it in your hand, fingers wrapped firmly around your limp arm, “put it on.”

“Eddie, it’s just a necklace—no one’s going to care.”

His face tightens but his eyes soften, almost pleading.

“God—fine,” You relent, pulling at the clasp to wrap it around your neck, fumbling with the chain as you tried to connect it blindly—it was more difficult that you expected, “fuck—I can’t—“

Eddie holds his hands up expectantly, awaiting your request for help. You sigh softly, turning your back to him as he reaches for the chain, your hand wrapping in your hair to lift it out of the way. His fingers drag along your skin gently, clipping the chain together with ease. He adjusts the chain slightly until it sits comfortably around your neck. You glance down, watching as the puck settles in the dip of your breasts. The pick is engraved with a small E, unnoticeable to anyone but you and him. 

“Wait—is this one you actually use, like, when you perform?” You ask hesitantly, turning to face him.

His eyes glance down briefly—normally you’d feel uncomfortable with someone staring directly at your breasts, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest and you hate that. 

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie answers, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I figured it was just some cheap one you bought for show.”

Eddie huffs slightly, “That hurts, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that.” You mumble, turning away to reach for your shoes. “—and you can’t get mad at me if I lose this. I’m terrible at keeping track of things.”

“You won’t lose it.” He reminds you, putting a little too much hope in your abilities. “You ready?”

You slip on the converse, opting for something more casual and discreet—you could blend in quite easily, like a chameleon. But Eddie, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Have you ever thought about cutting it?” You ask curiously, flicking at a lock of hair that rested on his shoulder. “Maybe it would be easier to go unnoticed.”

“I’m known for my hair,” Eddie replies, leading the way down the stairs, “why would I do that?”

“That’s exactly why,” You shrug, “your life would be so much easier.”

“People would be heartbroken, you know.”

And as ridiculous as it sounds, they would be. 

“Yet somehow, the world will go on.”

The drive is longer than you anticipated, not that you had much to go on to begin with—Eddie was being unnaturally secretive and he opted to drive himself, which felt even more intimate—it took out the professional aspect completely, but maybe that was what Eddie wanted. 

Eddie noticed your watchful eyes, clearing his throat subtly.

“You can stop acting like I’m trying to kidnap you.”

You shake your head at the absurdity, replying kindly.

“I’m just curious where we’re going, that’s all.”

“Oh—well, it’s good, I promise,” He smiles slightly, “my uncle took me here as a kid, I know the owners pretty well.”

“This isn’t a real date,” You remind him, “we agree on that, right?”

“Obviously,” He offers a smug smirk, hand tightening around the steering wheel, “—I already know I’m not your type anyways.”

“My type?” You mock harshly, “I have a type?”

“Are you asking me to answer that for you?”

“I mean—I didn’t know I had a type, so I’d love to hear it.”

And just like that, that small moment of blissful peace is ruined. You two couldn’t even pretend that you liked each other. 

“Nevermind,” He laughs airily, “it doesn’t matter.”

You stare at him heatedly, legs crossed tightly over the other as you stiffened. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You bite at him.

“Likewise.”

Eddie turns it on like a switch, his act—as soon as he parks the car around the back he’s a different person entirely. You weren’t sure how the paparazzi found you, but it wasn’t completely unfathomable. They’d started camping outside of your apartment building, waiting for the opportunity to bombard you with questions and flashing cameras—you were smart to turn it on to, letting Eddie take the lead as he opened the door for you, grasping your hand to help you, wrapping his arm over your shoulder as he led you inside and away from the slowly growing audience of people.

“Eddie,” A voice booms down the hallway, a man dressed in a nicely kept chef’s uniform, “how have you been?”

Eddie smiles at the man, shaking his hand firmly. “Good, great,” Eddie answers indecisively, “I can’t complain.”

“And your uncle?” The man asks inquisitively, “I haven’t seen him in a few months.”

“He likes to hermit himself,” Eddie replies with a friendly chuckle, “I’ll bring him in next time.”

“Ah—no rush,” The owner answers, “—I see you’ve brought your lovely lady, it’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

The ma’am feels too professional but you smile anyways, shaking his outstretched hand. “You too.” You reply with the same intensity, glancing up at Eddie’s watchful eyes.

“I’ve got your table ready, follow me.” He instructs, your hand tightens around Eddie’s instinctively, allowing him to guide you down the hall and out into the dining area—it was mostly quiet, more high-end than you were used to and intimidating nonetheless.

You take your seats, order your drinks—and like Eddie suspected, you settle on a burger, hoping to maintain some sense of normality.

“I can’t understand half the stuff on the menu.” You tell him honestly, glancing up at him from where his face is buried in his phone. “You really used to come here as a kid?”

“It’s changed a lot,” Eddie explains, closing his phone and sliding it back into his pocket, “—I actually own half of the place, it’s part of some of the property I invest in, but yeah.”

“That’s a little—“ Your voice wavers, biting back a smug smile, “aren’t you obligated to think it’s good then, since you own it?”

Eddie laughs slightly, shaking his head as his eyes drift off to the side, glancing around the place leisurely. He’s so desperate to switch the topic that he can’t help it, “So, how did we meet?”

“Oh, right,” You smile, drumming your fingers against the table lightly, smiling at the waiter as they drop off your drinks, “you know—it wouldn’t feel that far off to just play up our first time meeting each other. I get that it was probably a super embarrassing moment for you—“

“It wasn’t—“

You ignore him, “—and maybe we could just say we met at one of your after parties, you asked me on a date, the rest is history.”

“One, it wasn’t embarrassing,” Eddie holds his finger up, “and two, I could’ve came up with that.”

You take a sip of the beer, foamed up in the pint glass. Eddie follows suit, eyes tense as he stares you down.

“It works though, right?”

Eddie shrugs indifferently. 

“You’re impossible.” You sigh, trying to remember that you were definitely being watched and that your facial expressions were important, you fixed yourself accordingly, throwing on a fake smile. 

“You act like you’ve never been in a relationship before.” Eddie counters, chugging half the beer in one go. It was going to be a long night, clearly. 

“I haven’t.” You answer honestly, Eddie nearly choked at the admission. “I mean, I’ve hooked up with a few people, don’t get me wrong—but dating in this line of work, it’s horrendous.”

You had a point, Eddie was all too familiar with it.

“You’re, what—twenty five?” Eddie asks, a confirming nod in return. “Not even high school, college—anything?”

“I never went to college,” You admit, “and I wasn’t interested in dating in high school—I’m not interested in dating at all, actually.”

“Then why did you agree?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” You stress, leaning forward over the table with a hushed voice. “If I had said no, there’s no telling what could’ve happened when you left the room. I would’ve lost my job, I’m assuming.”

“They can’t do that.” Eddie replies with a thick tone of naivety. 

“They can,” You nod, “and they will—let’s just hope the ratings were good enough that they won’t pull the show completely.”

Eddie pulls back slightly—he’s never considered your side, where you were coming from or feeling about the situation. His life was set, made, he had enough financial stability to last him a lifetime, but you—you were fresh-faced and new to all of it, an unwilling victim. 

“Look, we’re in this together.” Eddie assures you, hand reaching across to intertwine with yours—you two were nestled by an open window, so you could only assume it was for show. “We can be friendly about it, at least. I mean—I don’t have any reason to hate you.”

“Other than me turning you down.” You joke, conversation stalling as your food arrived—it was like heaven, truly. Eddie had been right on the money about all of it. You moan at the first bite, the second, to the point where Eddie has to physically stop you.

“Are you okay?” He asks with a chuckle, having finished his first beer and now onto the second—you were nearing the same.

“I haven’t had food like this in a while.” You tell him. “Sorry—“

Eddie shakes his head firmly, “Nono—I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

There’s a calmness that washes over you both, sharing small talk over your meal, meaningless conversation that neither of you would remember when you went to sleep that night—Eddie orders a third beer, a fourth, and you couldn’t help but pile them on too. You weren’t sure how sore the subject was of his stint with rehab and everything that came with it, but you trusted him enough that he had it under control.

You hum slightly, poking at the shared dessert.

“What?” Eddie asks with a mouthful of cake, covering his mouth haphazardly. 

“Can I take a picture of you?” You ask oddly, Eddie doesn’t know where the inquiry comes from, but he agrees. You smile, pulling out your phone to focus on him—the camera flashes, bright light shining in his face as he squints, a half grin still plastered over his face. “Shit—sorry, I forgot I had the flash on.” You laugh lightly.

Eddie doesn’t question your motive, but it feels better to explain, even through your drunken, giggly haze.

“It’s for your contact picture—and for my socials.” You admit, “It’s not official until you post about it, right?”

And you hate yourself for the fluttering feeling that shoots through your body at his smirk, faint but noticeable. A lot of your anger and frustration was geared toward the tenseness that you felt around the situation—you didn’t hate Eddie, per day. You hated the position you’d been forced into and the way it had to be handled; Eddie was still overwhelmingly annoying at times, but the edge that alcohol took off made it easier. 

Not that you wanted to be drunk every time you were around him, that seemed illogical, but it helped you realize that it wasn’t all his fault or yours, it was just the reality of the situation.

“Are you busy next month?” Eddie asks.

“Uh—not really, I’m wrapping most of my obligations up this month and that’s as far as I have planned—why?”

“You should go on tour with me.” He suggests and you nearly choke on your drink, liquid spilling down your chin. You cough harshly, covering your mouth. “—or not?”

“No—I’m just—what? Why would you want me to go with you?”

“We’re stuck in this situation at least until the end of the year, right? Visiting me on tour seems disgustingly loving enough that people wouldn’t have any doubt about us.”

You make a face of amused disgust, laughing at the idea but also hating that he was actually right—it was the perfect idea.

“What?” Eddie asks with a chuckle, poking at the small bit of dessert left, he lifts up with his fork, motioning toward you. “Do you want it?”

You shrug, letting him bring the fork to your mouth, lips closing gently over the utensil. If it was for the cameras, you couldn’t tell, your eyes glued to his as let the subtle art of intimacy happen, his gaze flitting down to linger at your mouth.

You pull back with a grin, chewing thoughtfully. 

“It’s a really good idea,” You admit begrudgingly, “and I hate myself for actually wanting to do it.”

“Hey—my music isn’t that bad.” Eddie says defensively.

“I wouldn’t know—I’ve never listened to it.”

That seems highly unlikely, an act of absurdity, a crime against humanity. Eddie couldn’t believe it, but it was the truth. He looks offended as he sets his fork down, grabbing for the final sip of his drink. 

“Oh my god—“ You gasp, “you really are conceded—Eddie, are you serious?”

“Not even one song?”

“No,” You answer seriously, “I mean—I know what you play and that you sing but I’ve never actually listened to a song. I told you—it’s not my thing.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Eddie says petulantly, turning his nose up jokingly. “My own girlfriend, that hurts.”

You roll your eyes lazily, “Shut up.” You respond warmly.

It makes Eddie laugh—a genuine, deep laugh that you’ve never heard before; maybe the alcohol was getting to him too.

When you’re finally finished, Eddie leads you out the same way you entered, avoiding the mass of cameras awaiting you outside, managing to get you inside the car with minimal commotion, pulling off before things turn hectic. It’s the one thing Eddie has learned to master—that and he scared most people off. 

“They never stop.” You say into the quiet rumble of the car, engine revving as he sped down the street.

“It’ll get better,” Eddie says, “—or more manageable, at least.”

You hiccup, “They camp outside my apartment most days—in shifts and stuff, there’s—there’s always someone out there.”

“Do you have security or anything?”

It was another luxury you weren’t accustomed to. You shake your head slightly, peeking up at his burning gaze.

“Are you sure you should be driving?” You ask hesitantly, “We were drinking a little more than we should have.”

“I wouldn’t have tried if I wasn’t sure,” He assures you, holding his hand out to showcase his steady fingers, rings knocking together slightly, “—see, I’m good.”

You weren’t sure how that was supposed to help, but you shrugged it off, grabbing at his extended hand. 

“Do you ever take these off?” You ask with a short laugh, twisting the jewelry around his fingers, noting the tiny cuts along his fingertips. 

Eddie huffs an offended laugh, “Yes.” He snatches his hand away gently, returning it to the wheel. “I shower and dress myself too, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

You nod thoughtfully, “Damn—you read my mind.” You reply smugly, silenced growing over as Eddie pulled into the parking garage to your building, coming to a gentle stop. You hesitate leaving, wondering if you should say anything—even a simple goodbye.

Eddie speaks first, sensing whatever emotion you were giving off—you couldn’t even put a finger on it. 

“I can walk you upstairs if you want,” He offers, “if you’re worried.”

“Please?” You ask softly.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate.

Eddie leads you up with a hand on the small of your back, the dip above your ass, and it feels like fire through your clothing, his touch burning hot. You fumble with the key at your lock, feeling the buzz spread through your body, eyes squinting to concentrate. Eddie never leaves your side, scooting even closer when someone passes down the hallway—their looks linger, but they don’t say anything, not with the stern gaze Eddie shoots back.

“Stop scaring people,” You mumble, finally fitting the key into the lock and turning it. Eddie follows in behind you, clicking the door shut silently, “—thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie slips your wallet into your hand, something you’d shoved into his hand earlier while you searched for your keys, almost forgetting about it. You snatch it without a word, pressing it down against the counter. 

“Are you good then?” Eddie asks, nodding toward the door. “If you are I’ll just—“

“Do you want a drink?” You ask randomly, already sifting through your cabinet, reaching in for a wine glass.

It’s almost like Eddie was waiting for it, agreeing eagerly.

“Yeah—yeah, sure.”

You smile knowingly, reaching for another glass. You place them on the counter gently—Eddie roamed around aimlessly, taking in the space, glancing over occasionally as you sifted through your copious bottles of wine. 

“This is cute.” Eddie says, holding up a small picture frame. It was you and Steve as young kids, young enough that you two weren’t even communicating in full sentences yet—Eddie could spot Harrington anywhere; it was a gift.

“Our parents are friends,” You explain without prompting, carefully filling up the glasses, “I taught him how to walk, according to my parents.”

“That explains a lot.” Eddie laughs softly. 

“Here,” You nudge him gently, handing him the glass before taking a seat on the couch, shoes slipped off to the ground, “you can sit, if you want.”

Eddie moves slowly, still lingering about as he looks around, the cushion dips slightly when he finally takes a seat. You sip quietly, feeling more relaxed in the comfort of your own place. Your legs extend, pressed gently against the outside

of his thigh. Eddie doesn’t mind, glancing further around the homey environment you’d created. 

“I’m really sentimental.” You tell him, nursing the glass in your hands. “It’s why I have so much stuff from back home.”

“Home being…” Eddie pushes further, curious.

“Hawkins—Indiana. It’s where Steve and I grew up before we moved to California. He went his way and I went mine but we’re still close. I just miss it, sometimes. So it’s nice to have small reminders.”

Eddie nods slowly. He didn’t care much for pictures or gifts or things from his childhood—his guitars were his babies, his records, littered and hung throughout his house like a museum, his own small collection. 

“Oh shit,” You panic, placing the wine glass on the end table as you searched for your phone, grabbing it from your back pocket, “I almost forgot about the picture.”

Eddie chortles, leaning over to peek at your screen.

“Did you want to look?” You ask, tilting the phone toward him, “Before I post it?”

Eddie nods silently, setting his glass down too. You scramble toward him, lifting onto your knees to shift that way. His fingers wrap around the back of your hand, eyes scanning over your screen. It’s the same photo as earlier—he looks ridiculous, but you find it endearing. It’s nothing like the magazine covers or posed photo shoots you’ve seen of him; it’s a small glimpse of the real Eddie, unfiltered and raw.

“Is it okay?” You ask, not sure why you’re seeking his approval, but the question slips out regardless. 

“Yeah—“ He pauses, considering a thought before he can’t help but speak, “but, maybe we should—like, take one together? Is that weird?”

You weren’t sure why you didn’t think of it before him, but it’s a brilliant idea, actually—you’re blaming it on the slight intoxication and the heat of nervousness that ran through your body around him. You couldn’t control it. 

“Uh, sure.” You agree, shifting closer then, nearly falling into his lap as you do. Eddie catches you with ease, his hand resting against the outline of your hip bone as he adjusts you slightly, body angled as he lifts you over his legs. “Here—maybe I should—I’ll just turn this way.”

You’re fully settled onto his lap now, turned sideways as you lift the camera. It wasn’t hard to force a smile, no matter how fake, and that’s what you’re expecting Eddie to do, but instead he speaks. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks politely, almost comically. “For the picture?”

“Oh—uh, yeah?” You respond with a soft laugh. Eddie doesn’t hesitate, his fingers dragging under your chin to tip your head up, lips connecting with yours gently.

The camera clicks a few times, his lips held steady. You laugh slightly at the absurdity, pulling away gently to sift through the photos. Your head turns, swiping through your screen.

It’s astonishing how believable it looks from the outside eye, both of you caught mid-smile as you tilt the phone toward him to show it off. You glance up briefly, but Eddie isn’t even looking at the phone, eyes locked on you.

And you’re not naive, not in the slightest. You’re half guided by the alcohol, half guided by the unrestrained horniness you felt from having deprived yourself of connection for so fucking long. It’s just one time, you tell yourself. Just once. It doesn’t have to be anything—it was nothing. 

Your phone slips from your hand to the floor, Eddie’s own fingers wrapping around your face, encompassing the sides and digging gently into the nape of your neck as he pulls you to him, but it’s you who kisses him, a small tinge of hesitancy as he glides his lips against your own—you couldn’t take it, skipping past every last bit of hesitancy you had and gliding your tongue over his bottom lip. 

Eddie is just as intense like this as he is normally, giving into his urges just as easily. He can’t remember the last time he’s ever had a genuine, casual hookup—not that he expected this to turn into that, but it’s freeing, liberating. 

His tongue dips into your own mouth, swiping against yours, you moan outwardly, shifting until you're more comfortably, thighs stretched over his own, straddling his waist. Your mouth never leaves his, speed increasing with fervor as you kiss him soundly, pulling away for a quick breath, the sheen of spit as you disconnected, a small string connecting your mouths. 

“Take your pants off.” He breathed hotly, eyes half-lidded as he stared up at you. You stand clumsily, reaching for the button of your jeans as you wriggle the denim down your hips, Eddie assists the aid, yanking roughly until they pooled at your ankles, he leans down swiftly, helping you out of them fully.

His hands slip behind the fatty expanse of your thigh, squeezing gently to guide you back over his lap, sitting directly against the cold denim of his own pants.

Eddie’s mouth connects with yours quickly, moving with the kiss as you lean in forcefully, rubbing the front of your chest against his own, the tight squeeze of your thighs reassuring your movements as you delved into his mouth, tongue hot and flat as it mingled with his, all saliva and muffled groans as he consumed you, the tinge of cigarette hitting your taste buds, mixed with the faint subtleness of beer. 

“We gonna regret this in the morning?” Eddie asks with a break to his tone, voice checked as he pulls away slightly.

You chase his lips, settling for the line of his jugular, mouthing at the skin, the faint beat of his pulse against your tongue.

“Depends,” You reply breathlessly, “Can you make me come?”

It was a feat not many could accomplish—and if you were letting things drag on this far, you weren’t going to let it be for nothing. 

“Please,” Eddie scoffs, noise dying out on a groan as you nipped at the skin, head dipping to the other side, the gentle trace of his fingers following up your back, “what type of men have you been fucking?”

“If I’m horny—I’ll take what I can get,” You admit, “I’m not picky”.

“And right now?” Eddie asks hopefully, “Are you taking what you can get?”

“We’ll see.” You remark, lifting your hips slightly as his hands dipped under the black lace of your underwear, fingers spreading through the pooled wetness, slick coating them.

“Jesus,” Eddie sighs, “you’re so fucking wet.”

You nod dumbly, a faint smile pulling at your face. It’s like instant relief when he touches you, whatever earlier ache fading away in an instant at the heat of real fingers gliding through your cunt, something other than your own hand.

“Shouldn’t you take your rings off,” You think idly, feeling the cold metal against the inside of your thigh, “won’t they get messy?”

Eddie hums a noise of approval, pulling back to glance at your relaxed expression, jaw slack as his fingers rubbing through folds.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He laughs deeply, turning his palm down so his rings pressed fully against your cunt, the outline of the skull ring catching against your clit. You gasp slightly, hand tightening around his neck where it rested. He nods knowingly, “Don’t worry—it’s really hot.”

Shamefulness aside, drunken haze filling your body, you give in, hips rocking gently against the flat of his hand, palm resting over his dick where it’s confined in his jeans, through your underwear. It’s the perfect angle, hips canting down as the ridge of the metal catches against the soft mound of your clit. He’s pulled you so close, you can’t even think about moving away now. 

“Feels good, yeah?” Eddie asks, voice strained as his hand wraps around the length of your waist, your mouth falling open in a soundless gasp as your face rests against the side of his, buried in the curls of his hair, smelling like some expensive cologne and a odd mixture of leather, probably from the jacket thrown of his shoulders.

“Uh huh,” You respond deftly, whining softly as his hand flexes into a fist, pressing firmly against you, “—shit.”

“God—you’re soakin’ my fingers, sweetheart.” Eddie comments softly—you let the endearment slide, too caught up in your own mind to care. “Is it always like this?”

And lord does he hope it is. 

You shake your head slightly, “It’s the alcohol,” You admit shyly, “—can’t help it.”

Eddie laughs gently, a small shake of his chest as you keen forward, hips searching for more, hoping for more. 

“Can I—can you—“ You fumble over your words, but it isn’t hard to decipher what you’re asking, your free hand traveling between your bodies, over the hard tent in his jeans, dick twitching beneath your touch.

“Yeah—fuck, of course.” Eddie sighs, lifting you up slightly to reach for his buttons, flipping it open in one fluid movement, letting you pull at his jeans until they’re tucked under his ass, his underwear following suit.

If there was one thing you expected for certain, it was that Eddie had a nice dick—it wasn’t hard to find online, rather willingly or unwillingly, he wasn’t shy about it. It wasn’t up for you to judge, but it’s even more intimidating in person—everyone else is dull in comparison, you can’t even peel your eyes away.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Eddie remarks, catching your expression—it feels teasing, but not in the way that makes you want to retaliate, “—here, give me your hand.”

And you do, letting his larger palm guide yours over the head of cock, down his shaft, fingers grazing the soft stubble of his balls as he sighs, head resting back against your couch. 

His still slowly working hand flips, giving you a small amount of relief against your cunt, the pad of his middle finger pressing against your opening, fluttering around the tip. He doesn’t need to ask, he can see it in the look you give him, the subtle nod.

His finger dips in slowly, testing—it’s been far too long and it’s embarrassing how little of a touch can make you feel so good.

“I know,” He soothes, seeing the crease of your eyebrows, face pulled tight in anguish, “I know.”

Your hand moves slowly, dragging along the length of his shaft. He inhales deeply, the soft touch of your fingers sends a strong jolt to his dick, your thumb grazing over the tip gently. The friction can’t feel that good, despite how wrecked he already looks. You pull your hand away, licking a wet stripe up your palm—it’s something so visceral, hitting Eddie at his core.

Your hand returns just as quickly, and he moans out at the touch, wet and slick as your hand glides easier, up and down in firm, tight tugs—you didn’t know what he liked, but by the look on his face, you were doing just fine. 

His slips his finger in fully now, forgoing the teasing pace, impatient and wanting to feel you clench around him—you do, gasping at the sudden intrusion of his thick finger, ring pressed hard against your entrance, he curls the digit and you gasp out softly.

“Jesus,” He moans, his dick throbbing beneath your touch. You can’t help but focus on anything but him, the calculated glide and twist of your hand as you work against his shaft, thumb dragging over the tip occasionally, mixing saliva with the small amount of precum pooling at his slit, “—can’t—can’t focus with you touching me dick like that.” He admits with a strained chuckle. 

His fingers release you, sticky wetness gliding against your clit like magic, that familiar buzz filling through your body, pit of your stomach like burning fire as you cry out at the slightest touch.

“Fuck—it really has been a while, hasn’t it?” Eddie asks, voice soft and concerned. You nod weakly, mouth hung open slightly as your eyes fall shut. Your hand never stops moving against him, picking up speed with every quick circle of his finger against your clit, throbbing with need. 

“Look at me,” He urges, hand finding the back of your head, cradling the weight of it, “open your eyes.”

You do, slowly, met with the same weak but intense gaze. You’ve never looked into someone’s eyes like this, not in such an intimate situation—there was never connection, just pleasure and release. This felt…palpable, real. You shoved the concerning thoughts aside and let yourself live in the moment, his pace quickening with determination, mouth falling open with each second that passed.

“That’s it,” He encourages, voice faltering as you squeeze at his shaft, “—want you to look at me while you come, okay?”

You nod, but it’s not enough.

“Say it.” He pleads.

“Yes,” You force out, “I—I will.”

“Good,” He breathes, grunting loudly as your pace overwhelms his senses, destroying his train of thought, “good girl.” He forces himself to say, voice shot.

His finger circles your sensitive clit with urgency and it hits you all at once, the sensation exploding from your core to your entire body, jerking at the high of your own orgasm, allowing Eddie to coach you through it, hand flattening against your cunt as your hips searched for more relief, satiating that lasting ache as he pressed firmly, giving you a chance to calm down, catch your breath.

“I got it,” He assures, swatting at your hand gently, “it’s okay.”

“No,” You grumble, forcing his hand away too, feeling steady enough to return to your previous pace, still breathless from your own orgasm, “stop acting like that.”

He grunts softly, his hips shifting on their own accord. He was close, it was so blatantly obvious. “Like you have to do it all yourself,” You snark at him, “just shut up and let me do it.”

Eddie laughs at your determination and clipped tone, bottom lip pulled between your teeth in concentration—but his amusement is short-lived, your hand tightening around his shaft with a feverish grip—it was too much, even for Eddie.

“Fuck,” He breathes out harshly, coming over his lap and your thighs in long spurts—the thick, sticky fluid coating your skin. You can’t even be bothered to care, his face so sweet when he does come, all scrunched up with focus, jaw clenched as he forces himself to say silent, much to your dismay, “—holy shit.”

You both take a moment to settle, catch your breath, before you’re reaching behind you and onto the table for a tissue, handing it to Eddie silently. He cleans you both up with no complaint, taking care to make sure nothing is left, before balling up the tissue and tossing it into the small trash can in the corner of the room. 

You shift off of him, feeling the sticky, cold fabric of your underwear between your thighs—you grimace and Eddie laughs at the emotion you emit. 

“Don’t say anything.” You tell him hotly, “We can act like this didn’t happen.”

Eddie holds his hands up defensively, “Like what happened?” He asks densely, shifting dramatically to shove himself back into his underwear, pulling his jeans back up his hips.

“Keep it that way.” You warn, voice holding no malice. 

You didn’t want this to become a thing. It was all a weak moment of need, of wanting to feel good, and that’s all it had to be. 

Eddie nods slowly, still lingering on the couch as you stand. 

He wants to ask something, you can see it on his face.

“What?” 

“Uh—I know this didn’t happen but—can I sleep here, on your couch or something?” Eddie asks, “I probably shouldn’t drive this late, not after that last glass you gave me.”

You nod kindly, disappearing down the hallway for a moment before returning with a pillow and blanket, switching him for your discarded jeans as you made the trade silently. 

“I need you gone in the morning,” You tell him, “I mean it.”

“No problem,” Eddie agrees with you, “it’ll be like I was never even here—promise.”

You really, really hope that was the case—too ashamed to even look at yourself now, still standing half naked in front of him, telling yourself this would never happen. 

But it did—and you hated yourself for wanting it. 

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

[kennysboxergf]

Can you please write a smutty imagine with Niko. You and Niko are exes and you happen to be at the same party, and you’re dancing with other guys (could be sharky idm) to make him jealous and then you guys end up arguing and doing it 🤪

Better than him ~ Niko Omilana

You said Sharky but I went with Kenny hope u don’t mind girlie 😘 and sorry for the wait I hope it’s worth it 🫶🫶 this did end up being 2.5k I think

⚠️smut warning⚠️

—

You adjusted the strap of your black skin-tight dress. You had chosen this one specifically to fuck with one person at this party. Niko.

Damn bastard flirted with you, called you his girlfriend and fucked you good and then broke the relationship off 4 months in? Without giving you a single reason?

The worst part in all of this was that you were still friends with his friends so when Kenny extended an invitation to come party with him and the Beta Squad + extended team you accepted. You liked them all well enough, all of them except him.

You walked through the gates and heard the party was already in full roar, you had arrived 45 minutes-ish late, to keep the man guessing. You had figured he already knew you were coming, so it didn’t really matter when you showed up the night would go the same way. You would talk to and maybe dance with a few of his friends while he talked and danced with a few of his and the two of you stayed out of each other's ways.

So that’s what you did. 

Upon entering you walked straight up Darkest and asked him where you could get drinks. He smiled at you and led you to the makeshift bar. You poured yourself a quick soda and stood there, drinking and analysing the scene looking for a familiar face.

You noticed Chunkz and Sharky off to one side talking to Filly who was over exaggerating something or the other. You found AJ and Kenny in the middle of the room dancing their asses off to some random pop song and you noticed him with George on the sofas talking about something.

He hadn’t seemed to notice you yet, so you decided to make him. You chugged the rest of your drink and took a breath before walking up to the dance floor to join AJ and Kenny. AJ’s head was pointed to the floor as he did some rendition of an Irish jog or something similar but Kenny’s head popped up as he saw you approaching.

You extended a hand in his direction and he gladly grabbed onto it. You thought somewhere in the back of your mind that Kenny had always had something for you but you pushed it away as he pulled you in.

You tread carefully so as to not stumble over your own heels as you got closer to him. He said something along the lines of “Y/n! You’re here!” So you grinned and nodded in response.

The music was pumping loud so you had to get real close to the man to hear anything he was saying, and you might as well, because of course there was no one here who would get jealous right?

As his memory flooded into your mind you looked over in his direction to see him still chatting to George. You huffed in annoyance before putting your hand up and yelling, “DJ! Put on something sexy!” 

You rolled your hips as you said the last word and saw Kenny’s eyes trail down your body. This dress really did do wonders for your curves. 

You cheered as “Pillowtalk” by Zayn floated over the room. You sneaked a glance at Niko to see him finally looking back at you. Perfect.

You grabbed onto Kenny’s shoulders and leant in, “dance with me” you whisper yelled into his ear. You had never seen a man nod back so vigorously as his hands travelled onto your hips.

The two of you moved in sync with the beat. The innocent dancing quickly morphed into more and his hips came up to meet yours. You relented and at this point the two of you were borderline grinding on each other in the middle of this party. 

You looked over at Niko once more and saw him sitting there, clutching the sofa. His knuckles were turning white with the pressure and his face was set in a glare of jealousy. You caught his eye and winked and that ended up being the final straw.

You watched as he pushed himself off the chair and into the dance floor. You felt his hands on your arm and felt the chill as Kenny’s fell off your hips. You heard some shouts and threats but the anger boiling inside you was enough to muffle them.

This absolute scumbag! How dare he break up with you and then try to claim you like you were still his? You felt his hands burning into your wrist and pushed him off. While you had been too immersed in your thoughts he had dragged the two of you up the stairs and into his room.

The familiarity of the room only served to raise your anger and you yelled, “what the fuck?” at him. 

He huffed and you could see the same fire you felt flow through you burning behind his eyes. “You come here.” He starts, taking a step towards you, “and you decide you’re going to start acting like you’re some kind of-“

He trails off mid sentence but you’re not going to let him go with that. You take a step towards him now.

“Some kind of what?” You ask, pointing a finger in anger, “I’m a what, Niko?” 

He turned away from you, “nothing” he murmured.

You lean forward to grab his arm and turn him back around. His head was bent down to look at the floor. 

“Complete your fucking sentence, Omilana” you threaten as you bent over to meet his eyes.

As you entered his line of vision he popped his head back up. Avoiding any eye contacts

“Nothing, ok, y/n! It was a slip up, let it go!” He yelled, throwing his hands in the air and walking forward so he was behind you and didn’t have to look at your face anymore.

“I am not letting this just go” you say, emphasising your point with your hands, “first you drag me from the party, which by the way I was enjoying, and then you come up here and call me names?” 

“Yeah, I saw the way you were ‘enjoying’ the party” he muttered, his back still turned towards you.

You reached one arm up to grip at his shoulder and turn him around. He resisted your efforts so you went around him. The only space in front of him was on the bed so you climbed on. At this point you were on your knees on the bed to face him.

“Excuse you?” You say once you’re settled.

He turned his head to meet your eyes, “I saw the way Kenny was enjoying his night too” he spoke.

You gasped in offence, he really thought he had some sort of claim over you after your break up?

“I’m allowed to dance with people, Mr. possessive” 

“But like that?” He practically whined.

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. “You don’t own me.” 

“Look, yeah, I know that but-“ he trailed off.

“But what Niko?”

By now you had seen the elephant in the room. He wasn’t trying to get you to stop dancing with Kenny, he was trying to get you to dance with him again. And maybe, you were kind of into that idea but he wasn't earning that right back by just pulling you aside and starting an argument.

You adjusted yourself so you were leaning back on your hands on the bed, chest in full display in this already revealing dress.

You saw and heard him gulp as you did. His hands come up to meet each other as he starts fidgeting with his fingers. 

“But. What.” You repeat to get it through his horny mind right now.

You eyed his crotch and saw his dick already hardening in his pants.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut” he whispers, looking up at the ceiling.

“Excuse me?” You ask, that was not the answer you expected to come out of his mouth.

He pounced onto the bed, taking you down as his weight crashed down. The breath was pulled out of your lungs as you landed on your back with him on top of you, his hands on either side of your head.

He leaned down to kiss you, and you reciprocated begrudgingly. When he pulls away for breath you push your body up to get next to his ear.

“Better fuck me out like a slut to prove your point” you whisper into his ear.

Niko was never one to bow down from a challenge. 

He lets out a gasp at the words and pulls you into a sitting position to tug at your dress straps.

You raise an eyebrow, “why don’t you just lift it up?” 

He looks into your eyes with lust blown pupils, “wanna see you, all of you” 

You smile at his need but relented, reaching down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head. You watched as Niko’s eyes darted over your body, his mouth open in awe. The decision to skip the bra today was really pulling through for you.

“Are you gonna fuck me today or do I need to go to Kenny for that too?” You tease when he doesn’t move for a minute.

You see his eyes darken at the mention and he springs forward, knocking you back onto the bed (for the second time this night). You laugh at how easy it was to rile him up, the laughter only contributed to his anger as his hands worked double time at his belt.

Just as soon as you heard the whip of the belt as it flew off of him, his pants were down along with his boxers. You felt his hands grab onto your arms as he raised you up to the bed frame.

He holds up his belt in an unasked question but just as quickly discards it when you shake your head. You weren’t about to just let him have all the control after the shit he pulled today.

His hands grabbed onto the outsides of your thighs and made their way up to where the waist of your underwear lay. He slips two fingers into the waistband and tugs them down your legs, his movements are more gentle now as he slides them all the way off.

You watch as he leans towards your core but veers off towards your left knee. He leaves kisses up the inside of your thigh, skipping over the main event as he continues down your right thigh. You groan which eggs him on to continue. He repeats the same process once more.

The third time he starts at your left knee you’re prepared, as he’s passing over your cunt you reach forward to push his head down. He’s shocked at the action but stops himself before you get any more satisfaction.

You look down at him to see him grinning up at you from his position. The two of you hold eye contact for a minute before he goes back in between your legs. Your head falls back as he licks between your folds. Your back arches up to meet him as he licks at your pussy.

You feel the tip of his tongue at your clit and as he starts to kitten lick an overwhelming dose of pleasure to surges through your body. You moan Niko's name to which he chuckles adding extra sensation into you.

He pulls away when the chuckles evolve into laughter. 

You pout at the loss of sensation but mostly at whatever you did to send Niko into hysterics in the middle of eating you out.

When his laughter stops you ask, “why are you laughing?”

The smile is still present on his face but he leans in to kiss you, “just the noises you were making”

You look at him with furrowed brows.

He stumbled over his words to correct himself, “just the fact that I gotta be kinda good at this to get you moaning my name like that” 

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in to kiss him, “I could make you moan my name like that”

“I’d like to see you try” came the reply.

It was on.

You pointed towards the headboard and he held his hands up and moved there. Once he was situated with his back up against the headboard you climbed up and onto his lap.

With a hand on his chest you started to kiss him, his hands coming up around your waist. The two of you kissed on the bed for a good few minutes. When you felt he had somewhat let his guard down you made your move. 

Moving quickly, you positioned your hips over his dick. The man barely had time to process what was going on before you were sinking in. He let out a loud grunt at the movement and his hands tightened around your waist, you gasped at the pressure but continued until you were flush with his skin.

You build up slowly, starting with small hip circles and building up to almost bouncing off his cock with every move. The slow building of your rhythm mimicked the slow building of Niko’s noise level.

He was also increasingly more and more distraught as you bounced on his dick. His head was thrown back and his hands were clutching on tight to the bedsheets. You could tell that he was close to his climax which was just as well as you felt the pressure build in you.

He still hadn’t moaned your name the way you said he would and you wouldn’t stand for that.

You slowed your pace slightly, earning a whine from your ex as he pulled his head back to face you. You cupped his cheek and leaned into his ears to whisper “fuck me.” 

His whine turned into a moan of your name as he got the message. In urgency, he lifted you up and threw you down onto the bed, with you on your back he crawled over your wasting no time to slip himself back in.

It was less jarring this time around but you still gasped as his length filled you up. He continued the same pace you had set when you were riding him as he pounded you into the mattress. Your legs were pulled up to grant him better access.

He was ruthless as he chased both of your climaxes. You felt your walls tighten around him as you got closer and closer, a fact that drew deep grunts out of him. You came first with a loud moan which was the melody that ended it for him.

He pulled out of you and quickly jerked himself to the end onto your torso. You lay there recovering your breath and you felt the bed dip as he fell next to you. Sweat glistened on both of your bodies and you felt the warmth of his cum drying on your stomach but neither of you were in the mood to get up and clean just this instant.

“Got you to moan my name” you whispered through deep breaths.

“Fucked you better than Kenny ever could” he whispered back.

The two of you erupted into breathy laughter as the tension from earlier tonight dissipated into the darkness.

And if Kenny got a few bruises or a black eye or if the guys had noticed that the two of you got closer again you never heard about it.

—

AHH GIRL IM SCARED FOR THIS ONE TO COME OUT BUT I HOPE YALL LIKE IT

as always requests are open and please come by and say hi <3

#beta squad #niko omilana #niko x reader #niko x you #smut #king kenny

[tonyspank]

PHOTOGRAPH

Summary: Natasha would do anything to take everything back, including you.

A/N: Something very old from my drafts, there will not be a part two. 🙁

Warnings: Death, angst, and tell me if there’s more!

Days passed, weeks passed, then years passed. You left Natasha. And the worst thing is, you had no say so. Or, maybe you did. But the choice was already made.

Natasha had been dreading this day. The day when she had to come and clean up your old shared apartment. Any memory of you made her break down, she never felt this way about anyone.

When the two of you met her walls had been built up towards the sky. She pushed herself away from the team, away from you. Attachment wouldn't get her anywhere in this type of career, she knew that.

So why was it so hard when you came around? You didn't plan on falling in love with Natasha or making her fall in love with you. But you couldn't lie to yourself, something about her pulled you in.

Before you knew it you were trapped. Locked inside, with only one key. And the only person who owned that key was Natasha, she owned your heart.

It was a scary feeling for Natasha, of course, she thought love was for children. A part of her felt as if she didn't deserve love, she didn't deserve you.

However, all of those worries washed away once she looked into your eyes, as cliche as it sounded. The deep connection she felt, the warm feeling, you didn't have to speak when that look said everything.

Don't worry. You'd be there if she fell.

You were.

Slowly, and surely, Natasha's walls were breaking down. She felt safe around you, safe to be herself— flaws and all. Your love was unconditional. Her guard was fully down and she was accepted by you.

You understood her, every single cell of her body, you understood it. You were inseparable, you got each other. It shocked you both, you would've never thought you'd connect in the circumstances you were in.

When you admitted your feelings for the redhead you didn't think they'd be reciprocated, but even if they weren't, you didn't care. You adored Natasha, no matter what. Nothing would ever change that, your intentions would always stay the same.

Hearing Natasha say she loved you was better than you'd dreamed. At that moment she had never felt so vulnerable, but in your mind, you knew this was the woman you'd die for. You'd love her as no one has before, she was your source of light.

"Natasha," Natasha hummed in response, not feeling like talking. She hadn't for a while, all she wanted was you. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to. No one's forcing you."

Steve said, a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The two were outside of your shared apartment, bags and boxes ready to load whatever they wanted to keep in memory of you.

Steve had always been a great friend of yours. After he had come out of the ice you showed how the internet worked and all the new stuff that confused him from this generation. "No— I want to," Natasha spoke, her voice almost in a whisper.

She wanted to do nothing more than run back to the compound and bury herself in work to distract the aching pain in her heart. With a sigh, she unlocked the front door, slowly pushing it open.

"Hey.." Steve paused briefly, he didn't know what to say to make Natasha feel better in this situation. Sometimes he wondered if Natasha even wanted anything to do with him.

"I could do the bedroom if it's too much for you."

Natasha shook her head, "No, I don't want you to." Steve nodded, clearing his throat to clear the awkward silence that filled the room. Natasha's responses had gotten blunter and blunter as time moved on. She hadn't been doing it on purpose, she was just so tired of having to hold her tongue.

After looking around the apartment, reminiscing old memories that had been made in the apartment, she made her way toward the master bedroom.

A trash bag in her hand, she grabbed random things throwing them in, she wanted to keep all of your things. She didn't care, anything you'd left behind, she wanted it. Using a bit of too much force unloading the dresser a plastic decoration fell off it, creating a loud noise.

"Nat? You okay?" Steve called out from the kitchen, worry washing over him.

"Y-Yeah... I'm fine Steve." She replied, her eyes trained on a polaroid that had fallen onto the dark wood floor beside the decorative plant.

With shaky hands she picked it up, flipping it over. It was a photo of her, you two were sitting on-top of the Avengers tower, eating a cheap New York pizza from a restaurant not to far from the tower.

The sun was setting, looking absolutely beautiful. But you believed the red-head in front of you beat the sunset by a mile, snapping a photo of her with your vintage camera.

You were always obsessed with film, and if you hadn't joined Shield you'd be a photographer. You'd always tell Natasha how she'd grow to love how you captured moments of your day on your camera.

A soft laugh left her mouth, and before she knew it, she couldn't hold her tears back anymore. She needed you more than ever, you were supposed to be with her for the entirety, at least that's what you promised.

Although here she was, crying because you had broken her promise. As petty as it sounded, she was mad, you promised. She also couldn't help but think about the last fight you shared.

Natasha stormed behind you, following you into your shared bedroom. "Y/N!" She shouted after you, but you ignored her, trying to slam the door behind you to stop her from entering.

"Leave me alone, Natasha." You sighed out, running a hand over your face. "Y/N, please." You turned around to face her, she expected you to look angry, but it hurt more seeing the disappointment in your eyes.

"I just wanna talk." She says, taking a small step forward, and placing a shaky hand on your cheek.

You couldn't help but lean into her touch. You loved her but hated how you loved her after all she's done these past few months. You just wanted to be enough for her.

"Now you wanna talk to me?" You ask, your voice shaky yet firm. You move her hand off your face, not missing the way her face flashes with hurt.

"Y/N, I'm sorry."

You let out a fake laugh, "Wow, you're sorry."

"Y/N—" You interrupt her, ripping the tie off of your dress shirt, "No, Natasha. This is the fifth time you've stood me up this week."

You didn't understand, last week you had just come back from a month-long mission. All you wanted to do was spend time with your girlfriend, but it was almost as if she didn't feel the same. You understood had busy it could be, especially being an Avenger, but earlier in your relationship, Natasha had always made time for you.

You were supposedly the love of her life, even though it didn't feel like it. You started to doubt if you were enough for her, were you boring her?

"Do you love me, do you hate me? I don't understand. What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing, baby. It's me," You shook your head, letting her continue, but you couldn't help but feel the subtle anger grow in you. "I— I've just been so busy—"

"Stop!" You snap, you don't miss how Natasha jumps as the sudden rise in your voice, "Just stop! Enough with the excuses Nat."

You let your hand rest on your hips, your gaze falling towards the dress showing Tony letting you borrow out of his closet. A sudden lump in your throat, "Maybe,"

"Maybe we should just take a break."

"No," Natasha she breathes out, "No—" She repeats to herself, confused about why you would even suggest something like that. You could get over this, this was just a speed bump in the road. Was it not?

"I love you." You shake your head, "This," You point between the two of you, "Isn't love."

She did love you. You are the only one she'd ever love, and that was the truth. She hated herself for taking your love for granted for a split second.

But she hated you more for doing what you did.

It was the morning after you fought with Natasha, everything felt so strange. Of course, this wasn't the first time you had fought but, this time maybe you wouldn't make up.

And unfortunately for you, you had gotten called in for a mission. An enemy base had gotten ahold of  SHIELDS weapons and vehicles, you were confused about why Maria insisted on bringing Captain America and Black Widow on your mission until she confirmed she was going to take down the entire base.

The quinjet was silent, was there nothing to be said? You didn't know why you felt guilty, you weren't in the wrong. Perhaps you knew you were no good alone, and no one could ever replace Natasha.

Nevertheless, your relationship wasn't the same. You didn't feel the same euphoria that you felt when you shared your first touch.

You felt abandoned.

"Y/N, you good?" You're pulled out of your thoughts by Steve, "Hm? Yeah, I'm good."

"We're at the drop-out zone, Maria," Steve said into coms, you sat up stretching, making sure you were ready before you exited the quinjet. You felt a pair of eyes on you, already knowing who it was you didn't dare to meet their gaze.

"Alright," Steve starts as the quinjet starts to open, "Here goes nothing." The three of you line up, exiting the jet.

Your mission was supposed to be easy, you suppose. You and Natasha provide Steve backup as he runs towards the control room to activate a self-destruction protocol.

Except the three of you didn't know they had already known you were coming.

You should've noticed something was off when there was no security outside the base, and when you walked inside it was empty and silent.

"Somethings off," Steve stated, you nodded in agreement, looking around and examining your surroundings.

Natasha opened her mouth to speak but stopped once she heard Maria's voice in coms. "Cap, they know you're there. Backups on the way—"

Your heads all turn to the grenade laying between your legs, without hesitation you kick it, grabbing Natasha and pulling her towards the nearest cover.

"Steve! You okay?" You shout over the loud noise of bullets and rumble, "I'm good! I'm going to move towards the control room."

"There's no way he's gonna make it there by himself.." Natasha whispered beside you, as much as you hated to agree, she was right.

"Go," she told you, loading up her gun. "Nat—"

"Now, Y/N." This time she insisted, you didn't have a choice. You resisted the urge to tell her you love her or kiss her because you weren't sure if it'd be the last time you would be able to.

You took a deep breath before peaking your head out of the shelter for a quick second before turning your head to Natasha, she nodded, a silent way of telling you she'd provide you cover.

You swiftly stood up, running closer to Steve. "Steve! C'mon," His head turned to you, grabbing his shield and protecting himself from incoming bullets. You stood behind him, shooting anyone that got in your way.

"Maria? Maria, you there?" Cap asked in his earpiece, you sigh when there's no response.

"Cap, we have to get to the control room. I don't know how long Natasha can hold them off,"

He sends a nod your way, and you both run in the direction of the control room.

Still running, your heads turn towards a roar, not near you and thankfully not near Natasha.

"Was that Hulk?" You question. Steve sighs, "I hope not.."

A few more turns and you've made it to the control room. "Natasha, we've made it. Are you okay?" You whisper the last part, concerned.

"I'm okay," She replies, you feel yourself relax. A small smile appeared on your face as Steve activated the self-destruction protocol.

You watched as the blond-haired man point a finger to his ear, "Natasha, get out of here. We'll be right behind you."

"Okay, I'll see you guys outside."

Just as you guys were about to leave the control room you heard the same roar from earlier than a loud crash came from behind the two of you.

Cap grabs his shield, protecting his body. You both try to examine what just crashed into the control room but dust from the rubble is clouding the room. Grabbing a gun from your belt you point in front of you, "Is that—" Steve is interrupted by a huge rock being flung your way.

As quickly as you can, you dodge out of the way. It was an enormous green monster, but it wasn't Hulk. You didn't know what it was, what you knew is that it wanted you and Steve dead. 

"Steve! Get out of here!" You shout, your back against the wall. "I'm not leaving you."

"Please, Steve. Get Natasha out of here and go home." You plead, grabbing the gun from your back. "Make sure everyone's safe, and tell Natasha I love her."  

Steve knew if he stayed there to fight there was a chance both of you wouldn't make it alive and knew how stubborn you could be when you had your mind set on something.

The soldier gave you one last glance before taking off, you smiled and put all your attention on the monster.

Once Steve arrived at the entrance he noticed Natasha was gone, and all of the enemies were down. "Steve! Can you hear me?"

"Nat? Where are you?"

"I told you before, I'll meet you outside." She joked, Steve could practically hear the smirk on her face. His frown deepened, she didn't know the circumstances that you were in. How could he tell her that the love of her life was fighting in a life-or-death situation?

He ran out of the building and into the quinjet, hurrying to put the comms on the speaker of the quinjet, "Where's Y/N?"

He stayed silent, waiting to hear any sign of your voice to prove that you were still alive.

Shocking news is that you were, defeated the green monster with a very broken arm, but hey, you still survived. "Guys?" You asked into comms, unsure if it was still working or not.

You sighed when you only got static as a response, checking the ticking time clock, four minutes playing on it. "Shit," You muttered, rushing towards the nearest exit.

According to the blueprints you weren't that far away, although god had other plans for you.

You yelled out in pain feeling a hot pain in the back of your thigh, little did you know that Steve and Natasha were listening.

Natasha's heart dropped when she heard your scream, and Steve couldn't help but feel guilty. Natasha quickly stood up, ready to hop back out of the quinjet to help you but was held back by Steve.

"What are you doing?" She grits out, "There's no way you're going back in there, the bomb will explode any time soon."

"I'm afraid Captain is right, Ms. Romanoff," Jarvis added, the redhead sat back down, her mind trying to think of every possibility to save you, though nothing came to mind.

At that moment the building exploded, and Natasha couldn't accept the fact that you were gone. You weren't, there was no way.

You were going to walk out of the smoke perfectly fine, you had to. You promised you'd be there for her forever, no matter what. That's what you said.

Your funeral was even worse, there was no body to be collected. Nothing to be buried, which was one-hundred times worst in Natasha's opinion.

You didn't have any family, or that's what you told her, and everyone else. You'd always say the Avengers were your family, Natasha liked that because she felt the same way.

They all came to your funeral, even Thor who left Asgard to attend, Tony who called off meetings, and Clint who left the comfort of his home, they cared for you and they hoped you knew that.

Other than Natasha, your death affected Steve in ways he didn't know was possible. Throughout his day he'd think about how you should be here, and he should. He was Captain America yet he let you give your life for him.

They'd both do anything to get you back.

#reader insert #wattpad #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha x y/n #marvel x you #angst