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#<- I gotta stop making this joke (I have no intention to)

ozzgin · 5 months

Text

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

TW: Obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual."

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth.

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship.

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave.

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you.

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window.

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing.

That settles it.

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way.

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with.

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless.

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency.

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant.

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops.

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback.

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily.

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up.

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend.

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly.

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza."

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts.

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly.

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger.

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry.

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably.

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape.

The blonde man stares at you.

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it.

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach.

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?"

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body.

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up.

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm.

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm.

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part.

Bonus: Daitou's backstory

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect.

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas."

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up.

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement.

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances.

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry.

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid."

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you.

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection.

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up.

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat.

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus.

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair.

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #original work #oc x reader #male yandere x reader #x reader #yandere scenarios

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luveline · 4 months

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smart, younger reader who’s like spencer and is awkward but so so lovely and then guard dog botch who’s always there and always ALWAYS so sweet to reader after absolutely biting a guys head of about getting condescending or rude !!

if u would be so kind

thank you for requesting! fem

“Exactly! High five, Dr. Reid.”

Your hands smack as Spencer gives you a heartfelt high five. Spencer is younger than you, but besides that, Hotch might think you were twins separated at birth (very genetically different twins, but twins nonetheless). If he believed in kindred spirits, that's what you'd be.

And it's good for him. Hotch knows there are moments where he could've been nicer to Spencer, just that being his boss makes that more difficult than it should, and with you around, you've got all the niceness solved. You're lovely.

“I knew we'd get there,” you say.

It's great, but there are better places for your and Spencer's diorama than the office kitchenette.

“Guys, can we move this to a desk?” he asks.

He should say, Can we not do this in work hours? But he doesn't. That likely says something about him… he'd rather not explore. Something he already knows.

“It's a bit delicate for moving,” you hum, eyes on the paper attachment you've created.

“Move it,” he says, imploring rather than stern. He hides a smile behind the lip of his mug and begins to turn away, stopped momentarily by Anderson just past the threshold.

Anderson begins asking him about something, Hotch listens, and he pretends he isn't still listening to you and Spencer as you decide what to do with your diorama. You speak in sweet tones, encouraging to a fault, “He doesn't really mind,” you're saying, “he's just the boss. I'll hold this side and you hold that side, and– woah!”

There's a scuffle, an explosion of paper crunching and ceramic, the sound of water spilled.

Hotch shifts to the side to watch the aftermath.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I–” you say, hand clenched around a scrap of torn paper, coffee staining your shoes, “I– I–” Hotch winces as you struggle for words. “I'm so sorry.”

“You've gotta be joking.” The man you've seemingly whacked into is an older agent. He's been around much longer than you have, probably almost as long as Hotch, and he has that jaded chagrin about him. Time constitutes knowledge, sure, but not attitude. “Why are you two always messing around in here?”

“Sorry, Agent Giles,” you say, your hands creeping together toward your stomach defensively, “we were just moving this, and I- I'll–”

“You're gonna make me another cup of coffee?” he asks contemptuously.

“That's quite enough,” Hotch interrupts. “Agent L/N had no intention of bumping into you.” He stands to your side. “I'd be more than happy to make a new cup of coffee if it's an imposition for you.” His tone suggests he may not be very happy after all.

“It's fine.” Giles turns his gaze away.

Spencer's sprung into action, having fished the bits of your diorama and broken mug from your feet, now on his knees wiping up the puddle of coffee you've displaced. “Spence,” you say, “I'm sorry, I ruined it–”

Hotch speaks up before Spencer can. “It was an accident.”

You have this gutted, soft eyed look about you, embarrassed he's sure. You're a sensitive girl. You're probably more upset for Spencer than yourself, and aflame with the heat of the gaze of an entire office. He casts his head back to narrow his eyes at any nosing that's still happening before he touches your shoulder.

“Sorry, Hotch,” you say, lifting your shoe a centimetre off of the ground. Coffee drips down the canvas of them. It squelches as you put it down.

“It's okay.” The favouritism he works so hard to hide rears its head, unable to stand the sad quirk of your mouth. “Hey, it's okay. It was an accident. You have spare shoes and socks in your go bag, and it's,” —he lowers his voice to a fond, warm whisper— “not as though you and Spencer have anything to do that you'll actually hand in to me today. Don't let it upset you.”

You raise your head too quickly at the sound of his teasing. Relief brightens your eyes. “You're not mad?”

“Not at you.”

You let that sink in. Hotch's hand drops to your elbow before leaving your sleeve altogether.

“Reid,” he says. “Don't hurt yourself. I'll call the custodian.”

“Please don't,” you say, turning your chest to his. So close he can smell the clean notes of your perfume. “We can do it.”

“Alright. If you're sure,” Hotch says. He resists the urge to touch your face, though the way he looks at you isn't much better. The upset melts your face, replaced with a flustered freneticism that snaps him back into focus. He's your boss.

He's your boss.

“Thanks, Hotch,” you smile.

He turns away before he's tempted into touching you again.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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munson-blurbs · 8 months

Text

Inspired by this TikTok. Thank you to @lesservillain for the idea and to @emsgoodthinkin for brainstorming with me!

Summary: Eddie jumpscares you one too many times, and so you decide to freak him out at work. But who will be more shocked: him, or you?

Warnings: fem!reader, friends-to-lovers, idiots in love, brief description of (fake) gore, joke about throwing up (doesn't actually happen), kissing as a joke (please only kiss w/ consent irl)

WC: 1.3k

It was just a joke.

A joke that had started when Eddie had barged into your house—the man wouldn’t knock if his life depended on it—and proudly announced, “I got the job!”

The job in question was a haunted house performer at Hawkins’ annual Fall Festival. You’d both been going since you were kids, and his favorite part had always been the haunted house.

He’d gotten word about his new job in early September. By mid-October, you’re fully sick and tired of his antics.

“Boo!” he’d yelled as he jumped out from behind the Wheeler’s couch, making you leap out of your seat.

“Raaahhh!” he’d growled in your ear while you were in the midst of a conversation with Robin, and once your heartbeat returned to normal, you flipped him off.

His enthusiastic “Gotcha!” during your history quiz was the final straw. You’d yelped, actually shrieked in the middle of class, clapping a hand over your mouth as Mrs. Click glared at you.

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” you’d hissed once you’d turned in your exam, growing more irritated when he’d just shook his head.

“You can’t scare me,” he retorted with a smirk, leaning up against a locker. “You’ve never been able to freak me out, and you never will. Don’t even try, little girl.”

Challenge accepted.

You spend the rest of the week wracking your brain for ideas. What is Eddie Munson afraid of? What will shock him?

The obvious answer is hiding a prized possession and making him think it was stolen or lost. You grin to yourself as you picture him frantically searching for Sweetheart; maybe you could leave a ransom note of sorts.

But that plan has too many moving pieces, so you scrap it. You’re about to give up entirely when Robin inadvertently gives you an idea.

“You guys coming to Steve’s party tomorrow?” she asks in between bites of her turkey sandwich.

“I’m down,” you eagerly agree, itching to have a night out with friends.

When Robin turns to Eddie, he shakes his head. “Gotta work,” he reminds her, wiggling his fingers to emphasize the spooky nature of his job.

Robin rolls her eyes. “Fine, okay. Stop by after. I promise we won’t make you play spin the bottle again.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, cheeks redden, and he gets up from the lunch table without another word.

Bingo.

The plan is set: on Friday, before Steve’s party, you’ll pay Eddie a visit at the Fall Festival. It’ll be a visit he’ll never forget, you’re sure of that.

Robin stands with you outside the haunted house, picking at a funnel cake with powdered sugar-coated fingers. “I’ll wait out here,” she promises, “but when you’re done, I wanna hear everything. Especially the look on his face.”

“You got it.” You shoot her a thumb’s up as you jog up to the bored-looking attendant taking tickets.

You’re in.

The first room just sets the tone. Eerie organ music pulses through an ancient sound system, and a fog machine creates a steam that prevents you from seeing the floor. Cobwebs hang in the corners of the ceiling, though you’re suspicious that they’re not intentional decorations.

Eddie’s not in the next room, either; just a woman wearing a blood-spattered wedding dress, wielding a knife and clutching a plastic severed head. She’s screaming something about, “teaching him not to cheat with a bridesmaid,” and looks vaguely annoyed that you’re not quaking with terror.

You go through three more rooms, getting increasingly irritating with the lack of Eddie in each one. He’s working tonight, so he has to be here—

Loud, stomping footsteps follow you into the dungeon-themed section of the house, and your heart skips a beat as you lay eyes on him. A distorted mask covers his face, but his unruly curls give him away despite the mad scientist costume he’s donning. He holds up a knife and creeps closer, a low growl emanating from his throat. You run until you no longer can, and he easily traps you, the cold metal gate pressing into your back.

If you’re going to do it, now’s your chance.

In one swift motion, you turn him so he’s backed up into the gate. A soft, confused “wha—?” leaves his lips as you lift his mask and lean in before you lose your nerve. Your lips press against his; hands on his cheeks as he accepts the way you melt into him.

Why isn’t he pulling away? Why isn’t he laughing and appreciating your prank? Why does it seem like he wants this…like he’s BEEN wanting this?

Fuck. Fuck.

This isn’t what you were expecting. He’s kissing you back, surprised but hungry, and you’re the one who ends up breaking away.

Before he can begin to question what’s happening, you dash out of the room. No. No, no, no. Your head spins as you attempt to process the emotions pulsing through your veins.

It was supposed to be a way of getting him back for his unwavering desire to scare you. Show him what it’s like to be the one on the other side of the joke. Because that’s all it was; a joke.

So why do you want to kiss him again?

Fresh air hits you like a slap in the face, and once you find Robin, you cling to her like a lifeline.

“We have to go,” you mumble, dragging her to the exit and refusing to make eye contact.

“Whoa, what happened?” When you refuse to answer, she sighs but doesn’t relent. “C’mon, did he, like, throw up or something?”

You shake your head. “I think he liked it.”

“Of course he did,” she says with a laugh, “the guy’s in love with you.” She nudges your hip with her own. “Toldja he would lose his shit.”

Your mouth goes dry. “Robs…when I said that I wanted him to ‘freak out,’ what did you think I meant?”

Robin crinkles her nose. “Um, that the Dingus-ette—that’s you—and her doting Dingus were finally going to admit that they have big, stupid crushes on each other?” Her expression falters when you stop in your tracks. “What did you mean?”

“I wanted,” you start, swallowing hard like a gob of peanut butter is stuck to the roof of your mouth, “I wanted to get him back for scaring me. I wanted to freak him out.”

“Mission accomplished.”

She’s no longer looking at you when she speaks, and you follow her gaze to where Eddie’s shuffling over to you. You want to beg her to stay, but she just squeezes your hand in a silent good luck.

“Hi.” Eddie’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “Can we talk?”

You can only nod in response. His mask is atop his mess of curls, and you can see the longing in his eyes. How have you never noticed it before? How did you not notice the need within yourself?

“Actually, I’m lying. I don’t want to talk.” With that, his arms pull you into him, torsos pressed together, and he’s kissing you. It’s like a missing link in a chain you hadn’t realized was broken, and you allow your hands to drape over his shoulders. You can feel him trembling slightly as he deepens the kiss.

“You okay?” you murmur against his lips.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he answers, ducking his head behind his curtain of hair. “Guess ‘m just a little freaked out that this is really happening.”

A smile twitches at the corners of your mouth, and you lace your fingers with his.

“Good.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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klintoris · 25 days

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Jschlatt x Fem!Reader Smut

When I started streaming, I never thought it would get me to where I am today. That's how everyone thinks, no one truly fathoms the huge increase in followers when collaborating with a huge streamer.

For me it was Jschlatt.

“YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT” Schlatt screamed over the call after I just murdered him in Minecraft again, stealing all of his things. “My bad” I cackle over the line, “toots’ you are so fucking lucky you live in another state” he threatens, “fuck does that mean???? Are you threatening me, big man?? I will clobber you.”, I hold my streaming camera and stare directly into it. there's a small silence before he speaks up, “Don't, don't look at me like that”, “Like what?” still making direct eye contact with the camera, “I’m-”. I cut him off “Anyway, while you weren't looking I blew up your dog.” I pull away from the camera.

Eventually after multiple matches of bickering, I grabbed my suitcase and made my way to the airport.

Schlatt was streaming, as planned. Ted was visiting and knew about my drop-in.

I pull up to the house in the Uber, getting anxious I look at my phone, I have the stream pulled up to see what the boys are up to. I get out, and standing near the door I message Ted that I am here, I watch as he tells Schlatt he's going to the bathroom. Soon Ted comes and lets me in. “ok so, I'm going to go back up and in like 5-10 minutes come into the room”, I nod, setting my suitcase near the door, along with my bag. Ted closes the door behind me and walks up the stairs, I follow him up through the hallway near the door of Schlatts streaming room. Ted walks in and closes the door behind him, assuming to keep jambo and soup out. Contemplating my entrance, the 10-minute mark hits and I open the door without my body in the doorway, schlatt and Ted both turn slowly to look at the door open. I walk into the doorway, as schlatt sees me and he turns to Ted speechless, “No fucking way”. he gets out of his chair, flinging it to the floor and throwing his hands on his head. “Hey, monkey man!!” I gloat and open my arms for a hug, “no no no how did you get here,” he says, obviously joking. “A plane, how else,” I say bringing my arms down, “aren't you excited??” I look at him, and he sighs “Only a little” he cracks a small smile.

“Alrighty big man, I gotta head out,” I say after we've been streaming for over 3-4 hours.

“What? Where are you going??” he questions me after ending the stream, I stretch “To my hotel?” I question his antics, “why not stay here? Why waste the money?” he says to me as he stares at my exhausted state. “Schlatt you don't have a spare room, ted isn't even staying here” I stare at him in confusion glancing at Ted, “Sleepover!” Ted says from the hallway as he prepares to leave for his hotel. Schlatt looks at Ted and then me raising his eyebrows, “You're funny schlatt but where the hell would I sleep?” I cross my arms looking down at Schlatt in his rolly chair, “I have a bed, I can sleep on the floor like a gentleman”, “That's silly I wouldn't make you sleep on the floor in your own house.” I stare closely trying to see his reaction. “Well” he pauses for a second, I can hear Ted stop moving to listen intently, “we could always share a bed, it's a king so we have our own postal codes almost” he grins leaning back with his hands behind his head. I internally scream, I find Schlatt very attractive but to sleep in the same bed would probably kill me. I stare, thinking, if I ever have a chance it would be now, “finnee” I cave. “there that's my girl!” he squeals like a little school girl, almost making me forget what he said. “Alrighty kids'm off” Ted speaking up from the doorway in a sing-songy voice pulls me away from my thoughts. “awwhh bye Uncle Ted,” I say hugging him, Schlatt gets up from his chair and says his goodbyes and looks at me “Okay where’ your bags?” schlatt turns to me, the doors shut downstairs as ted leaves, “by the door but I can get them its fine”. “Alright if you insist on lugging a suitcase up the stairs, knowing you it's probably heavy too, be my guest.” I sigh, “Fine, Mr. Schlatt, could you please carry my bags up to your room for me pretty please” I blink rapidly looking up at the tall man with my hands clasped as I swayed, “perhaps.”.

Crawling into the bed after doing all of my nightly routines, it's rather fucking cold. I shiver as I regret the choice of clothing, shorts and a t-shirt, only if I knew schlatt kept his room at arctic level cold. “Everything alright toots’?” he looks at me, realizing he's wearing the grey sweatpants girls fawn over, I groan “Nothin’”, he shrugs and climbs under the covers far away from me. I shiver as my teeth start to clatter, almost nothing is helping, not even Schlatts thick blankets. “You sure you’re alright?” he asks from across the bed, “Why is it so cold in here?” he chuckles as I feel the bed shift, as the bed creaks I feel schlatt pull me up against him, “there you can be warm now,” he says sliding a hand around my waist. Almost on cue, a shiver ran up my spine and my ass pushed into his dick, I froze in position after hearing him grunt. “what was that?” he says in a low voice, “not a clue” I manage to let out trying to sound as if I don't have a massive lady boner right now.

I try to shift to get comfortable, along with try not to push into him again, I graze his cock again. He holds my hips, “If you keep doing that I swear” Wanting to push his limit I speak out without thinking, “You will do what?”, there's a pause before I grind intentionally this time against him. He groans, he slides his hand from my hips to lower, his hand above my pussy, I breathe heavily anticipating his next move. He glides his hand down again cupping my clothed heat, I breathe in, sucking all the air in my lungs. Schlatt puts his head in the crook of my neck, he proceeds to start kissing and nipping at my neck slowly as he starts to practically massage my clothed pussy. I moan out, still lying on my side I turn to face schlatt, staring at him I look at his lips as he does the same. We pull each other into a heated kiss. He moves his hand from in between my thighs and gets on top of me. He lays in between my thighs, grabbing at my chest as his big hands roam around my body almost claiming it. I groan into the kiss as I feel his cock grind up against my covered pussy, schlatt notices this and grinds into me more, still gripping my chest.

He moves his lips from mine to my neck again, his mutton chops tickling at my neck as he sucks and bites at my sensitive area. “Fuck schlatt, please” I plead, not even sure of what I'm asking for.

“What is it princess?” he pulls away from my neck to look at me, “you want me to fuck that pussy of yours? Hm?” he taunts almost pouting at my state. Nodding eagerly he speaks up, “Use your words, what happened to that loud mouth of yours?”, “Please, please fuck, fuck me schlatt”. “That's it” he bellows as leans back as he practically rips my shorts down my legs, seeing the wet spot on my pink lace panties he teases me, not just with his words but his finger, grazing the spot as he says “she’s practically drooling for me, huh toots’”. I try to squirm away from him toying with my bud, but he grabs my hips and slowly hooks his finger on my panties pulling the skimpy article to the side leaning down and giving it a long lick.

He pulls away licking his lips, “She tastes almost as pretty as she looks” I moan in response, wanting to beg again he pulls his shirt over his head. I revel in the patch of chest hair before looking at his hands pulling his sweats off, I inhale sharply before he leans back down to kiss me, taking my shirt off during the kiss he breaks to look at my tits. “Fuck princess why were you hiding these from me”, schlatt starts to lick and suck at my right nipple while kneading the other tit, attempting to give them equal attention. At this point, I love the foreplay, though, the anticipation is killing me. I whine at the contact, “Please schlatt” I beckon pulling at his hair, he pulls away from my tits, “Fine fine”. Schlatt pulls back, taking my panties off he throws them somewhere behind him, attempting to close my legs he slaps them open. Schlatt takes his boxers off, and as his cock hits his stomach, the fear of god strikes me. It would be assumed schlatt would have a huge dick but I feel like ill be the next Mr. Hands. Schlatt resumes his position in between my thighs, moving his hands from beside my waist to guide his cock to my entrance, teasing it slowly before sticking the tip in. “shit, you're already so tight”, I moan a little in pain at the expected stretch, eager for him to put all of his cock in I buck my hips, he grabs my hips, almost enough to bruise them.

“M’ tryin' to hold back toots’ you aren't helping my case” he grumbles, “What if I do not want you to hold back?” I say not even thinking, he looks back and forth between both of my eyes for a second before shoving his whole cock in. I gasp at the stretch, and he begins to thrust at a normal pace, “f fuck schlatt” I suck in through my teeth before throwing my head back, “more please” I bring my head back looking at him. He's so focused on my reactions to him that he doesn't comprehend what I say until he pulls all the way back out and slams back in, his balls hitting the back of my ass hard.

“Holy shit,” he says before grabbing at my hips, leaning back on his feet he uses the fat from my hips to yank my body back onto his cock. “Oh my god”, I say clawing at his hands holding my hips, “he can't help you right now princess” he states after chuckling and then groaning. Schlatt slaps at my tits before grabbing at my neck, now using it as leverage along with my hip still, slamming me onto his cock.

As he pounds into me he makes eye contact with me before reaching down to my clit with the hand that was on my neck, rubbing at the bundle of nerves I go to throw my head back.

“Don't you fucking dare, I want you to look at me when you cum on my cock with that pretty pussy” he says through gritted teeth. I whimper at his words feeling white hot pleasure start to build up, “please please please please” I beg, “come on pretty girl let it out” as he fucks the spot in me that many have had trouble finding. “I'm, ah” I cum, and I cum hard, “That's it, that's my girl”, but he still keeps going. Not stopping. “Schlatt” I manage to get out between moans, “I'm not done with you yet”, flipping me onto my stomach he lifts my hips as he pushes himself back in. “oh my fucking-” I get cut off when he starts slamming into me again, slapping my ass roughly he holds the fat on my hips again, leaving bruises. “She takes me so well princess” I whine, starting to drool from over-stimulation before he yanks my head by my hair pulling me flush against his body.

He grabs my waist, and snakes a hand down back to my clit, “schlatt I can't, I can't”, “Yes you fucking can”, I clench on his cock as my second orgasm builds up. “F- fuck” he moans out, “cum with me pretty girl”. I moan at his words as I feel his cock twitch in me, clenching down I cum and fall against the bed. He whimpers noises I never thought I'd hear from his mouth, “Take all of it, good girl, gon’ fill you up s’ nice”, I feel him paint my walls white as he slows to a hilt. He pulls out as liquid gushes out of my abused hole, “gotta get you cleaned toots’” he says out of breath.

this is my first post AHHHHH!!! let me know if you guys enjoy and if you want more!!

#jschlatt smut #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #schlatt x reader smut #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt #schlatt x reader

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carolmunson · 1 year

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how to train your wyvern

sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader desc: when bratting becomes intentional disrespect, eddie has to go to new measures to make sure you stay in line.

cw: minors dni, smut, d/s dyanmics, spanking, slapping, spanking (with hands/with implements), degradation, humiliation, mean names, pet names, pet play (but not the mainstay of the fic), references to other women, emotional sadism, physical sadism, p in a (f receiving), fingering (f receving), oral (m receiving), mmf threesome, spitroasting, facials, rice kneeling, mouth soaping

He could take it to some extent, a little smart remark, a mean joke here and there. A sarcastic reply to a question with an obvious answer. That was fine, nothing a little stern look couldn’t quell. But every now and again there would be nothing he could do and it would drive him fucking insane.

You’d been bratting for days, and nothing — nothing, was working.

It started last week and some change ago when you decided to invite yourself over after his mid-day shift at the garage. He was exhausted, but he still had to fix a pipe under the bathroom sink that hadn’t stopped dripping – and also repair the cabinet door that he slammed off the hinges when he was annoyed about the broken pipe.

Normally, having you around after a stressful shift was nice for him. You’d fawn over him, make him dinner, get him a drink, rub his shoulders – suck him off, if he asked. This night was different, you clambered into the trailer and snapped the door behind you, cheeks bitten by the cold and snow in your hair.

“What’s your problem?” he asked softly from the kitchen, cracking a beer open and quickly catching the foam off the top of the can.

“You forgot to pick me up on your way home,” you huff, “I had to take the bus and then walk.”

His eyes widened, suddenly remembering that your car was in the shop. He wasn’t working on it, so it slipped his mind, “Oh honey, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to forget. Sal’s working on your car so y’know it just – out of sight, out of mind.”

He puts the beer on the table and takes your coat from you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His warm lips sooth your snow soaked face, but the frustration still remains.

“Why didn’t you just call?” he asks, seeing the furrow on your brow still stuck in place, “I would’ve come to pick you up.”

“I shouldn’t have to remind you,” you grumble, “You’re such an airhead sometimes.”

“Hey,” his voice isn’t gruff or mad, more hurt than anything, “It was an accident, you don’t have to say shit like that.”

You take a breath, pushing it out of your lips, mulling over whether the insult was worth it, “Sorry, that was mean. I’m just cold and annoyed.”

His lips press against your cold cheek this time, “It’s okay. Um, get yourself cozy – I gotta fix the sink in the bathroom.”

Your face falls, “Oh.”

His face falls too, “What’s wrong?”

“I just – I came all the way over here and we’re not even gonna hang out,” you frown.

“It won’t take me that long, baby. I just have to fix the sink and the cabinet and then I’m done,” he explains while you kick your shoes off. Your eyes roll dramatically when he mentions the cabinet.

“So first it’s just the sink, then it’s the sink and cabinet. You’ll finish those and go ‘Oh let me work on the leak in the shower, let me WD40 the door’, you always do that. You start a project and then start fifty of them and I just sit here,” you huff.

He juts his lower lip out in a teasing frown, “Aw, so sorry I wanna make the place habitable, honey.”

When you don’t crack a smile his shoulders fall, “I promise I won’t be long. You can even sit in there with me while I work on it if you want.”

“You hate when I do that. When I hover,” you say. Eddie smiles, pressing kisses to your cheeks while he pulls you in to hold you close to him.

“So it must mean I missed you all day today if I want you to hover when I fix the sink, huh?” he jokes. You relent, giving into his kisses, and his warm chest, and the caress of the tendrils of hair falling out of the low bun on his head onto your nose.

It’s not long before you're sitting on the shut toilet seat and he’s half concealed in the cabinet, t-shirt riding up while he lies on his back. You’re not focusing on what he’s telling you, something about his day or a customer. Something about Dustin and the new one shot they were putting together next week. All you were focused on was the sliver of his belly peeking out of his shirt, begging to be touched. Begging to be squeezed. You slowly get to your knees and sink onto the fuzzy dark green bath mat by his hips, reaching out slowly to graze your fingers over his happy trail.

“Jesus!” he shouts, body jumping, a loud CLANG! sounding as a result of him dropping whatever tool and part he had in his hands.

You laugh, “Oh no, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

He shimmies out of the cabinet with a small red cut gleaming on his forehead, “Babe you can’t do that while I’m working. That’s so dangerous.”

“I got bored, you were looking so cute. How could I resist?” you ask, “Let me look at your head, I’m sorry.”

You peer at the little cut, it’ll definitely heal in the next day or so, but it’s enough that he’s wincing when you go near it.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you tut, pressing a kiss just next to it, “Is that better?”

“Yeah, it’s better,” he smiles, “But please, I’m barely balancing this tubing in my hands – no distractions please.”

“Fine,” you say sweetly while he lays back under the cabinet. You wait a moment before your hand reaches out again to drag your finger over a clothed rib.

His body tenses, “I’m not kidding, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” you laugh, “I’m just fucking with you, I promise. You’re just so cute when you’re mad.”

You let him continue, back to his original one sided conversation where he starts explaining the Wyvern appearing in the campaign and all the differences between a dragon and a Wyvern. Your eyes glaze over and your hand reaches out for a third time, sliding a finger at the top of his jeans to trace the waistband of his boxers. You hear him huff angrily in the cabinet, face hidden by the door.

“I asked you to stop, baby, please,” he urges again, “I had a long day.”

You roll your eyes, standing up and slapping on the cold water in the sink before you walk out of the bathroom, “Whatever.”

He emerges a few moments later, fuming, soaked, brows furrowed – almost teary with frustration. He wanted an apology but he never got one, opting to put you over his knee so you’d learn a lesson that would sting well into the next day – but it was a lesson that wouldn’t quite stick.

After his show at The Hideout he’d pulled you onto his lap in one of the booths with the rest of the band. They’d rehearsed all week, canceling two date nights at the last minute in lieu of the show – and the practice was worth it. They got the whole crowd jumping this time, even if it was just thirty to forty people. His hand slid over your thigh, back and forth to bring down his speeding adrenaline, the smoothness of your worn jeans soothing him. He talked over you in conversation, leaning forward past your shoulders to interject. You huffed dejectedly, sulking into resting your chin on your hands with your elbows on the table. Tensing when a group of girls came over to join their after show debrief.

After all the introductions they start talking music, the girls giggling and smiling. You’re not mean, so you indulge in the conversation – but that grating happy, bubbly friendly voice behind you booms over yours, his chest vibrating against your back when he speaks. “So who’s band is it? Who’s the brains of the operation?” one of the girls asks, glossed lips shining in the low light. The boys clamber to answer for each other, all attesting that the band is theirs as a group, no one’s the head, they all make their own decisions – but they’re all talking over each other.

“It’s obviously Jeff, he’s lead guitar,” you piped up, “It’s Gareth and Jeff.”

“Isn’t Eddie the lead?” one of the girls laughed, her painted nails tinkling against the glass of her beer.

“You asked who the brains was. Look at this guy, he look brainy to you?” you tease, running a hand through his curls. The table laughs, including Eddie whose cheeks are tinged red, but his grip on your thigh tightens under the booth. Excuse me?

To add insult to injury, you took his half finished beer out of his hand, taking a few sips to finish it while your empty bottle stood at the center of the table. You felt his chest press up against your back, leaning forward towards one of the girls sitting next to him, “S’cuse me, we’re just gonna go grab another drink.”

“Sorry!” she says, scooching out of the way while Ed nudges you forward to get out. You know he doesn’t really want another drink, he just wants to be mean to you. You know you’re riling him up in the way that he likes, you’ve been waiting for this all week.

“You think you’re bein’ cute tonight?” he says to you when his calloused fingers wrap around your forearm, walking you towards the bar, “Last week wasn’t enough? Want me to make it worse this time?”

“I think I’m being funny,” you shrug, “Everyone else thinks so.”

“Yeah, you’re real funny,” he rolls his eyes, ordering another beer that you snatch before he can grab it.

“Not an eye roll, baby,” you smirk while you take a sip of the beer, “You’re so bratty tonight.”

“You’re one smart comment away from me taking you home,” he warns. You can see from the glint in his eye that he’s still buzzing from the show and there’s only one way for him to get relief from it. It normally ends with you sobbing on his bed, tied up and begging for more of whatever pain he feels like dishing out.

“Ooh, you’re so tough, Ed,” you tease back at him. His jaw clenches while you drink the beer he just bought. He snarls when he gets you home, shoving you into the bedroom, pulling your clothes off while he berates you over and over again. Lips and teeth gnashing, kissing, biting, growling over you while he does it. But you didn’t give in, you couldn’t. His frustration was too delicious. You didn’t cry when he paddled you, you didn’t even make a sound that resembled unhappiness. You just alternated between pouting and smirking, little remarks pouring out of your mouth with your moans. Every burning strike making you jump and keen and purr. Eventually he gave up, resorting to a long lecture about bratting and boundaries while you both showered and got ready for bed. He counted every eye roll. Seventeen.

Two days ago, you dropped off some lunch for him at work and normally he’d melt at the gesture, but he knows why you did it. This was the incident that made it clear that all your behavior had been intentional. Still mad about your two previous punishments you showed up in the one dress you’re not allowed to wear to the auto shop. The hem was a hair too short, bending over would put on a whole show to whoever was looking, and boy, were the guys at work looking. The fabric was light and fluttery, one gust of wind would send it up like Marilyn’s. With the right bra, your chest would heave out of it, but even braless it held you in place just right. It was his favorite dress on you – just for him.

His jaw clenched when he saw you walk in, leaning suggestively over the front desk to ask where he was. The guys snickered and leered at you, elbowing each other to get the other’s attention. You didn’t even bother to wear tights. Everyone would see the leftover welts from a couple nights ago if the wind blew into the shop the wrong way.

Before making eye contact with Ed, you looked back at them and waved, smiling, working the sway of your hips into your walk. Your knee high boots clicked on the smoothed over cement floor while you approached him. He was found leaning up against a car he just finished working on, wiping his greased hands off on a rag, his face unimpressed with you. Now normally, this is whatever, Eddie’s used to you getting attention from guys. But at work it was different because even though they ogled, the minute you left they’d start to shit on him.

You let your girl walk around like that? Act like that?

You must be real pussywhipped Munson.

Gotta make her behave when she’s got an ass like that on her.

You never settin’ any ground rules?

Better put a ring on her finger before I do.

“C’mere, wanna talk to you for a second,” he said calmly nodding you over to him, slinging the rag over his shoulder. It was unfortunate how fucking hot he looked at work, even more so when he was disappointed. Old t-shirt covered in oil and grease stains, sweat collecting in some spots, clinging to him. His cover all opened and hanging open at his waist, boots shining in the industrial light.

“Aw, what is it babe? You look so upset,” you mocked him loud enough for everyone to hear, lips in an exaggerated pout, “What’s got you so mad? I wore your favorite dress.”

“Yeah! Don’t be so pissy, Munson,” his co-worker joked, “She wore your favorite dress.”

Eddie ticked his head over to the back room where the guys took their breaks, implying he wants you to follow him. You click behind him, giggling at the guys comments, joking back with them, tossing little waves their way until Eddie shuts the door behind you.

He walks slowly over to the coffee pot set up, pouring himself a cup and turning to lean against the counter. He takes a sip, watching you over the edge of the mug. His stare makes you shift uncomfortably, his calmness was sometimes more terrifying than his rage.

“We’ve had a big talk about this dress, baby.”

“The weather’s nice,” you said softly, crossing your arms.

“It’s January,” he deadpans, he takes another sip of coffee, “S’there something you need to talk to me about? You’ve had this lil’ attitude all week. Now you’re bringin’ it to my job? That’s not fair.” “I don’t have an attitude,” your tone is petty and touchy, “You’re just being sensitive.”

He nods while he puts the mug down, voice still measured, “I really hate taking this mean guy thing into our real life, sweetheart – but you’re really not leaving me any choices. Is gettin’ spanked not enough for you? Am I not gettin’ that ass red enough to teach you a lesson?”

“You’re not even good at it,” you lie, tossing his lunch on the table in front of you.

“I’ll remember that,” he says with a smug smile, “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you when I get home.”

He approaches you slowly, hand reaching around to grab your ass to pull you in close to him. You whine at the grip over your welts from the other night and he snickers into his goodbye kiss. His stubble grates against your cheeks while he holds you in place to slide his tongue into your mouth, just enough to leave you wanting more.

“Bye, princess – love you,” he lilts, letting go of you to grab his lunch and sauntering out of the room.

The caning he administered that night was brutal, but you still didn’t cry. You yelped and whined, you begged him to stop, you called him all his favorite names to get him to go easier on you. He called your safe word after ten minutes – scared that you were too caught up in the challenge of not giving into him that you’d ignore your own safety. After making sure you were okay, he took his pillow and slept on the couch.

He canceled your date night last night to work on the finishing touches of the one shot campaign he and Dustin had been working on for their monthly group ‘catch up’ at Steve’s. When he picked you up earlier this morning your attitude had nearly tripled in spice. Every word out of your mouth was a quick whip of the tongue.

“Baby, please,” he begs, “Please just let me have one good day. Can we please have a good day?”

You don’t reply, hopping out of the van and slamming the door behind you. He gets in front of you before you get to the door, eyes pleading while he leans in for a kiss that you don’t return, “Bub, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m just – I’m so tired. Can you please just be nice?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask sweetly, a sliver of sarcasm in your tone, “I’m so nice.”

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t start.”

Steve opens the door before you can ring the bell, running a hand through his hair and dropping it into his pocket, “Surprised you didn’t break the window with how hard you slammed the door.”

“It was the wind,” you lie, “Took it right out of my hands.”

You brush past him and ignore Eddie’s gentle reach for your hand, heading straight to the dining room to hang out with Robin and Nancy while the ‘kids’ set up their game in the living room.

“You look beat,” Steve says to Eddie while Ed kicks his shoes off, “You okay?”

“Something’s been up with her this week,” he huffs, “Longer than a week, even. M’so tired of her attitude, it’s getting out of hand.”

“Did you talk to her about it?” Steve asks, watching as Ed rifles through his backpack to pull out his binder full of DM documents and his pencil case.

“I keep trying,” he shrugs, “I’ve given her more than enough chances to talk to me about it. Even playing hasn’t gotten her to open up and normally y’know, once the water works start and she’s had a rough week she’s all out with it. It’s all about that release with us, does that make sense?”

He sighs while Steve nods along with his rant, “And instead she showed up at my work the other day just to piss me off. Wearing her little dress, showin’ off to all the guys. After we went through the whole trust chat and everything, after the scene – which I had to cut short cause she just didn’t even cry? Wild. After the scene she told me she did it on purpose – as if that wasn’t already clear, but I didn’t need her to confirm it, y’know?”

He stands up, flipping open the binder and making sure everything is accounted for. Steve chuckles to himself, leading him to the kitchen to grab them both a drink.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Ed grins down at the paper, “I’m not like you, I just know how to smack her around. You like all that mean girl shit.”

“It works. You want me to step in while the game’s going?” Steve asks. Eddie takes a breath, hearing your happy laugh bubble out from the dining room. He savors the sound for a moment – the smiliest you’ve sounded in days – and shakes his head no.

“Nah, it’s not worth it,” he says while he heads out, meeting the group in the living room.

After a couple of hours they took a break. It was always an all day affair, stopping to catch up with each other, getting lost in conversations. Eddie walked by you in the kitchen, hand plopping itself on your head while you reached into the fridge to get a beer.

“Hey, I’d prefer you didn’t,” he softly suggests, “You’re just gonna get mean.”

“I’m not gonna get mean.” You roll your eyes when he gets between you and the fridge.

“I said no,” he reminds you gently, “Please? I’m not drinking either. You’re already in whatever mood you’ve been forever – getting drunk s’just gonna feed it. Can I get you something else?”

“You’re being such a fucking buzzkill, you know that?” you snap. Eddie doesn’t react how you expect, no anger flashing in his eyes, no playful frustration. He just looks hurt, nodding curtly before stepping out of your way back into the living room. “Whatever you say, baby,” he shrugs. His shoulders round forward, settling in the couch and watching the conversation bubbling and tittering around him. He tosses you a look through the archway, shaking his head in disappointment. It was clear he wasn’t having fun with this anymore. You jump when the fridge closes and look around to see Steve next to you, alone with you in the kitchen.

“You think ‘cause you’re Eddie’s girl I won’t embarrass you in front of everyone here?” he asks pointedly, “You don’t get to act like that when you’re in my house.”

“Fuck off, Steve,” you sigh, your eye roll rivaling even his best.

“You better feel lucky that I didn’t get the okay to put you in your fuckin’ place,” he hissed while the conversation got more lively in the living room.

“Cause if you think for one second I wouldn’t bend you over that coffee table in front of all your friends and show ‘em how I deal with brats like you, you got another thing coming,” he continues. You shrink under his words, frown painting your face while he stares down at you — but that angry attitude, the reminder that Eddie couldn’t even bother to give you a solid warning, woke that mean girl right up.

“You wouldn’t do shit, Harrington,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“Yeah? Try me,” he offers. He shakes his head, hands on his hips, “You swear you’re so tough. Your bullshit is tired. He’s bored with you, look at him.”

You look over and he’s frowning while everyone gets back into position to play but still lost in their conversations. His legs are splayed out in the recliner at the head of the coffee table, slouched down enough that his chin is in his chest.

“He just looks sad,” you mumble.

“Whose fault is that?” Steve asks.

You sulk, “Mine.”

You huff one final time before going into the living room. He peers up at you when you come up next to the recliner, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. His eyes close at the feeling of your lips against him, opening them when you break away. He scans the room to make sure no one is paying attention before pulling you in for a chaste kiss, “Kneel.”

“Ed –” you start, heat running to your cheeks.

“Kneel at my feet for the rest of the game. Do you understand?” he asks quietly. You nod, kneeling down beside him while he got up to start the campaign where they left off. To everyone else, you were just watching everything play out – to him you were finally obeying. But it could never be that easy – just like the devil, you had to have the last laugh.

When the game was over, Steve and Eddie hauled off to smoke outside, talking quietly with each other – deliberating over something. You took that time to snag a beer from the fridge, confident you could finish it before they made their way back into the kitchen. However, talking with Robin made you less aware – hopping from one subject to the next, both big chatterers you had neglected the beer in your hand so it was only three fourths finished when the sliding doors opened and the boys showed up in the kitchen.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, continuing his conversation with Steve while he grabs your coat and slides the can gently out of your hand, pouring the remaining contents out in the sink. You put your jacket on while he throws it away, starting his round of goodbyes to the group.

“Let’s pick up some dinner, hm?” he asks when you both get back in the van, eerily calm, tossing his hair up off of his neck as the heat blasts.

“Okay,” you say quietly, “You’re not mad? About the beer?”

“Oh, I’m upset about the beer,” he says with a nod, keeping his eyes on the road, “But I can’t expect you to listen these days. You’re making your own rules, aren’tcha?”

“No, I –”

He smiles, finally turning to you while he pulls into a drive-thru burger joint, “Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna be very unhappy with how things go when we get home.”

The food tastes like ash in your mouth.

“C’mon, on your knees,” he says casually once he’s done undressing you down to your underwear. The ride home had been silent aside from the radio. You stepped in the trailer and he barely gave you a moment of reprieve before stripping you down in the bedroom. All tired eyes and frustrated grunts while each item of clothing got tossed onto a chair in the corner of the room. You obey his command but your eyes shoot up at him with a furrowed brow when you make it to the ground. He sighs while he puts your collar on, he looks defeated and worn out.

“Hey, wait,” you urge, taking his hand while he finishes clasping the buckle behind your neck. He looks down at you and falters at the look on your face — not playing, not in your role. Serious, concerned.

“No choking, please,” you ask softly, “Not tonight.”

He meets you down on the scratchy carpet while continuing to hold your hand, pressing a soft and gentle kiss against your lips.

“Of course not,” he agrees, “No choking.”

His hands find your face, fingertips brushing against you like you’re made of porcelain, “Do you trust me?”

He pulls you in for a deeper kiss before you can answer, taking your breath away in the process. Heat bloomed in your cheeks at his attention, the way his eyes glittered when he looked at you like that. Hungry, aching.

“I trust you,” you whisper between his kisses. You catch his gaze and he looks at you expectantly.

“What’s on your mind, huh?” he asks, “You okay? We can stop, we don’t have to do this. Could always just talk to me about it, you know I’m all ears.”

“You’re not mad, mad are you?” you asked softly, “Are you really mad at me?”

“M’not mad at you, sweetheart,” he assures, “Very disappointed, but not mad. Just like teaching you a little lesson. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you smile. He kisses your face, again and again. Reminders of who he really is.

“At least I’m not Steve,” he laughs, standing back up, “He loves taming brats like you.”

“I’m not a brat!” you gasp.

“You sure?” he asks, looking down at you with a hardening demeanor, “No? You’re not?”

You shake your head ‘no’, he laughs at you pitifully, “Coulda fooled me.”

“Remember what I said to you?” he asks, going into the closet. His voice is muffled while he’s in there, “You’re going to be very unhappy with how I treat you tonight.”

He emerges and your furrowed brows soften into sadness, eyes rounding into pleading when you see what he has in his hand, “No, sir, please…”

“Pets don’t talk, baby,” he says gently while he clips a chain link leash to your collar.

“But I don’t…I don’t want to,” you whine, tugging at the chain in his hand. He looks down at you without remorse, petting the top of your head.

“This is how you learn to behave,” he says, “Nothing else is working, so I have to punish you with something you don’t like.”

“But…” tears pooled in your eyes as he took a few steps forward and tugged on the leash for you to follow. You frowned, crawling on all fours to follow him to the kitchenette. He tugged twice when he wanted you to stop.

“Sit,” he mutters down to you, catching your eyes while he walks over to the cabinets above the sink, “Stay.”

You huff, sitting back on your heels while he rummages through the cabinets, finally reaching in and coming out with a tall yellow Tupperware. He opens the top and looks into it, frowning, and then looking at you.

“I hate to waste food but you need this,” he says softly, walking over to stand in front of the sink. Next to him, he lays down a line of white rice by his feet.

“Eddie, please,” you whined, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

His head whips towards you, “What did I say?”

“Pets don’t talk,” you whimper back.

“Want me to beat that into you?” he hisses, reaching for his belt.

“No sir, I’m sorry.”

He stands at attention, looking down at you, “Come.”

You start to crawl forward but he stops you, “You’re gonna let your leash drag on the floor like that? You know better.”

You shake your head no, reaching for the leather handle and putting it between your teeth before starting your slow journey next to him. You hesitate when you get to the rice. He very rarely goes back to these kinds of basics because he knows you don’t like them, you’d much rather be spanked. He reaches down to grab your leash and gives it a sharp tug, pulling you forward.

“Don’t make me warn you again,” his voice is stern and you inch forward, knees settling on the rice slowly. You start to whimper quietly to yourself, the sting is immediate.

“Eyes up at me,” he instructs, fingers under your chin tilt your head up toward him, “You’re gonna kneel here while I get these dishes done.”

“That’s stupid,” you whine while he wraps part of the leash around his hand so there’s little slack for you to move anywhere. The backhand he deals you at the sound of your voice is shattering, your thighs tighten at the feeling, lips parting in a low moan.

“Open your mouth again, see what happens,” he growls, “My number one rule when we play, for years, is only speak when you’re spoken to.”

You grit your teeth, putting your face back to center and tilting up to look him in the eyes.

“Shouldn’t expect a brainless pet like you to take orders though – that’s why we gotta train you.”

You shift uncomfortably on the rice, trying to relieve the pain one knee at a time but it only makes you gasp as the pain increases.

“You gonna cry?” He asks. You shake your head no despite the burn you feel in your nose and the rattle in your chest. Your knees sting with the bite of the rice, whimpering when he starts the dishes. He casts a few looks down at you while you stay looking up at him.

“We’re gonna keep at this until you break, you understand?” he asks, you nod. It doesn’t take him long to do the dishes, you squirm when he looks down at you down the slope of his nose.

“Stay,” he commands, walking out of the kitchen to the bathroom to get something, then back to the bedroom. You wait for him on screaming knees to return but he doesn’t. You hear the shift of weight on the couch, the creak of the springs in the cushions, the stomp of his boots as he spreads his legs wide. He whistles.

“Come here, baby,” he calls out to you cooly. You hear the flick of a lighter and start your short journey to the living room.

“Do I hear that leash dragging on the floor?” he asks with a warning edge. You let out an annoyed groan, pulling slowly at the chain link while it skitters across the tile. You put the leather back between your teeth, gingerly making your way over to him again.

“Let’s check out those knees before I keep you on them even longer,” he mutters, cigarette burning between his lips. He waves his hand at you, encouraging you to stand.

“C’mere, pretty,” he says sweetly, the mask coming off briefly to wipe off the stray grains that stuck to your skin. It was certainly irritated, but there wasn’t any blood, no damage that would last overnight. Less frequent types of punishment, non-impact play, sometimes made him nervous — not as confident in the outcomes.

“It’s okay?” he asks, looking up at you. His calloused hand finds yours, a soft check in, a gentle touch.

“It’s okay,” you nod while he presses a kiss to your fingertips, putting your hand back by your thigh when he’s done. He lazily places the cigarette on the ashtray sitting on the arm of the couch to settle.

“You know where you belong, pet,” he says, voice dropping register again. The clink of his belt coming undone makes your hips twitch, the slow drag of the zipper of his jeans. He lifts his shirt up before he pulls it out, tattoos smattering dark against his pale skin.

He leans back on the couch while you kneel between his legs with your tongue out, flattened against your chin. His cock makes you drool, spit pooling at the sides of your mouth while he lets his fingers drag over the underside, pink leaking tip peeking out from his foreskin.

When he lifts it up off his stomach you audibly gasp at how wet the top is, hips shifting on your legs for friction. He leans it towards you teasingly and you eagerly lean forward to let your tongue stripe over it but you’re met with a hard crack to the face instead.

“Very bad,” he admonishes, “You’re such a bad girl.”

He starts with slow strokes, soft little gasps puffing out of his mouth when he runs over the more sensitive spots. Your mouth waters despite the sting on your cheek, “Guess I gotta keep training you, huh baby? That’s too bad, was gonna let you suck it if you could behave first.”

You let out a frustrated huff and he likes it.

“Let’s keep that mouth busy since I can’t trust you not to act on your impulses,” he says, his voice dripping with mocking disappointment, “You’ve been doing that a lot, lately.”

He reaches into his back pocket and it’s clear now, what he got from the bathroom. The bar of Pears soap glowed amber in the side table lamp light when he unwrapped it.

“Y’know, I forgot about this trick,” he says with a smile, like you’re having a casual conversation. You gulp at the sight of it, leaning back with your mouth shut.

“Steve reminded me today, when we were out having a smoke,” he continues, eyes and smile wolffish while he leans forward toward you.

“You hated it last time,” he shrugs, “But you didn’t run that pretty mouth for a while. So it must’ve stuck, huh? Open your mouth.”

You hesitate a moment too long and his patience runs out before the buzzer to obey goes off in your brain. His fingers work between your lips, pressing at the hinge of your jaw like you’re a dog who has a piece of plastic in their mouth. You sputter over his fingers, head turning and twisting to keep him from getting a hold on you but your efforts were useless. The bar slid half way into your mouth, wedged between your teeth. You knew better than to raise your hands and fight him, he’d cuff you before you could protest – better off not seeing how bad he could go tonight.

“Much better. Y’look so pathetic with your mouth full,” he teases, “Really suits you.”

“Since I have to do this myself now, who should I think about, sweetheart?” he asks you, your heart sinks. He lets his eyes flutter closed when he squeezes gently around the base, a dark laugh bubbling out from his chest.

“Should I think about Chrissy from the diner?” he asks, heavy lidded eyes staring at you, his breath hitches. He pumps in slow strokes, taking his time, “Think about her pretty blonde hair and her pretty blue eyes?”

You whine, swallowing thickly while slimy suds start to leak out of your mouth, he smirks.

“Mmm, bet she’s a really good girl,” he moans, “Bet she’d never talk back to me.”

Tears start to well in your eyes and he has the audacity to fucking smile. The bitter bubbles gather on your tongue as your salivary glands work to push the taste out, but there’s no point with the bar pressed deep into your mouth.

“You know I love a nice girl like that, baby,” he coos, pace quickening while he fucks into his fist, “Probably loves getting stuffed full. You think so?”

His eyes open fully and he grips your hair at the scalp with his free hand, “You think so?”

You nod, face burning with embarrassed and frustrated heat.

“God, watching her pretty tits bounce when she’s on top of me? Fuck. Bet she’s so fuckin’ tight,” he breathes while he teases the tip with his thumb, brows knitting in focus and pleasure, “So fucking sweet, too. Not a brat like you, baby.”

He leans his head back while he feels himself get close, edging himself – slowing down and speeding up. And then he hears it, your broken, sad, choked sob. The sound of the Pears bar dropping onto the carpet. His head perks up, and there you are, crying on your knees in front of him, wiping at your eyes. “My poor baby, there you are,” he coos, tucking himself into the waistband of his underwear, “Finally got you cryin’. You don’t like that? When your master thinks about someone else?”

“No sir, I don’t like it,” you answer through blubbering and spitting up suds. He tuts, leaning forward, letting a thumb drag over a tear on your cheek.

“I’ll be good, please don’t think about someone else,” you cry up at him.

“You’ll be good? Yeah? You’re a good girl?” he asks, sentences peaking up at the end like you’re a dog. You nod pitifully. “You see a good girl in here?” he questions, “Is there a good girl in the room with us right now?”

“Stop,” you huff, wiping your eyes again. “Now that I finally got you crying I can really go to work, huh?” he smirks, “Think getting belted will put you in your place?”

You nod while he pulls up his pants, “Let’s get that mouth rinsed out first.”

He keeps up with ‘walking you’ to the bathroom, now a mess of tears and a soap slicked mouth. Shuddering and stuttering while you get cup of water after cup of water to spit out until the water runs clear. You still don’t settle, all the feelings of the week and some change of aggravation and anger surging and pulsing through you all at once.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you acting like such a cunt this week?” he asks while you get situated on your knees on the mattress in the bedroom. Foolishly, you thought he might soften up when you started to cry – but now it’s clear he’s just getting started.

“You just weren’t paying enough atten-attention to me,” you confess, quietly. He gapes at you, anger and disbelief flashing behind his eyes. “All this ‘cause you weren’t gettin’ enough attention?” he hisses, “When’d you get so weak, huh?”

“You kept w-working late, and ditching me f-for Steve, and D-dustin, and the band,” you whined.

“Cry all you want,” he says with a straight mouth, “This is so disappointing, baby. Thought you were tougher than that. Gotta get you correct, don’t I?”

“You kept c-cancelling, so I thought –” you continue.

“Hey!” he barks, startling you to look up at him, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, you have t-to correct me, sir,” you nod, “I need it.”

“You need it?” he mocks back, “Get in position for me.”

You oblige, bent over on the bed while he goes to get the belt that hangs next to the front door. You hear it clink with every stomp of his boots back down the hall, your thighs twitch with anticipation of him taking his anger out on you – much more pliable this time, much more reactive, no longer trying to stop yourself from feeling it.

“Attention, huh?” he repeats when he comes back in, “Well you got it, whore. I’ll pay attention to you all night.”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe. You hear him open the top drawer of his dresser, the sound of plastic, zippers.

“Maybe we can invite Steve over to help,” he suggests, “Does that sound good? A little extra hand to make the lesson sink in.”

“Do you wanna share me, sir?” you ask while he reaches over you to press each wrist to the outside of your thighs, wrapping each of them together in thin rope he picked up at the hardware store. A shopping trip you are certain had the owner looking at you both with a cocked brow as you both left blushing.

“Something fun about watching someone use my toys,” he says playfully. The makeshift spreader bar finds its way between your legs, clicked into soft cuffs around your ankles. A vision, bent over and spread out for him. Eddie’s not an awful man, so he offers the courtesy of tucking a pillow or two under your torso to keep you raised and balanced, pressing a kiss to the middle of your back.

“M’gonna really fuck with you tonight,” he threatens softly against your skin, “How do you feel about that?”

“Orange,” you say back. Orange, the coolest flame. The okay.

“And Steve?” he asks, fingers grazing your inner thighs.

“Orange,” you reply, pussy clenching at the thought of being beaten by both of them.

“Mmm, that’s a good girl,” he rasps low, “Really good girl.”

“When’s the last time I made you cum, pet?” he moves away from you again and you whine, the ache of your cry still sitting in your throat to be reactivated.

“Last week after your sh-show,” you answer obediently.

“So mean of me, huh? To keep you so needy,” he says, and that’s when you feel it. The handle of the wand being pressed against your inner thigh, the low buzz as he turns it on. You gasp while he adjusts it, feeling it press up against you before he secures it there, hips already searching for more pleasure as he turns it up higher.

“Let me make it up to you,” the way he says it, you know he has that devilish look pulling across his smile. The metallic flick of his switchblade sounds and your panties are the first to face its wrath, pulled away with ease once the right slices were made. He follows up with the straps of your bra and you want to protest but you know he’ll buy you a new one before the day ends tomorrow – he’s always ruining your shit and buying you more, his mouth running apologies as he does.

“S’that feel good?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, eyes already rolling at the orgasm building in your lower belly.

“What do you say?” his voice is expectant.

“Thank you, sir,” you rasp out.

“You tell me every time you cum, okay?” he instructs. You nod, losing yourself in the feeling of being restrained and used. Your eyes flutter closed while you succumb to the vibrations between your legs and the sound of his voice, the stomp of his boots. A soft gasp pushes out of your chest, hips pressing down on the head of the toy for more friction.

CRACK!

The belt is unforgiving against the fat of your ass and your gasp quickly falls into a loud wail, the cry in your chest pushing to your throat.

“Okay?” he repeats.

“Y-yes sir, I’ll tell you every time,” you hurry out, feeling the coil in between your legs get tighter immediately at the sting of the belt.

“Sir?” you ask quietly, “Hit me again, please.”

“Yeah?” you shivered at the low gravel of his voice. You hear him rev up, then the leather whooshing through the air to land in a hard ‘thwap!’ across your behind. You whine at the hit, hands balled into fists at the pain – but god was it good. It was so good.

“I have to make a quick phone call,” he mutters, “Keep track for me.”

He returns some minutes later, leaning over the mattress to look at you, “Look at you, what a fucking slut. You like this?”

You nod pitifully and he rolls his eyes, your hips twitch at the sight.

“You cum yet?” he sounds so bored when he asks you think you might cum again instantly.

“Twice, sir,” you confess.

“Twice?” he repeats, “Must not be enough – so quiet.”

You feel the tip of something drag against the flesh of your thigh while Eddie draws two short vertical parallel lines, “Just using up your eyeliner to keep track.”

“But thats –” His hand cracks down on your fresh welt before you can continue, “I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow. Get you a new lipstick, too. So shut up.”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp out.

“Let’s get you nice and loud for me,” he mumbles, reaching between your thighs to turn up the toy's speed.

“Oh, fuck! Oh my god,” you cry out, “Oh, shitshitshitshit.”

His giggle is grotesque when you feel the slide of your lipstick on your skin; your back, your ass, your calves. the waxy scent wafts through the air with the smell of your arousal, “Steve’s right, writing all over you is really fun. Wanna see what you look like, whore?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you obey, hips stuttering while a third orgasm runs over you, “Three! Fuck, three.”

Another vertical line is sketched on your thigh with the other two. The sound of his Polaroid goes off when he’s done with his handy work, leaving the picture next to you to fade into view.

“H-hope you spelled everything right,” you tease, knowing exactly where it’ll get you, “Know how hard that is for you, ‘86.”

He growls, a stinging dig he didn’t deserve, but you remember the ache of each canceled date. Every ‘I’ll make it up to you.’ Him mentioning Chrissy while he jerked off when you always suspected he’d secretly been checking her out when you went for lunch there.

“Well that wasn’t very nice.”

You groan at the blend of the crack of the belt on your ass and the sound of Steve’s disappointed voice.

“Four, fuck, four,” you cry while your thighs shake — another line added to your collection.

“Looks like your training isn’t done, peach,” Steve says sweetly, “You’re still being such a little bitch.”

You hear him fall in line with Eddie, his ringed hand pulling at your hair to lift you up, “Say hi to Steve, sweetheart.”

“H-hi Mr. Harrington,” you rasp out before he drops your head back down on the pillow.

“Hi, angel,” his voice was low and syrupy, “So respectful.”

“Heard he’s been real mean to you, peach,” he announces, and you can feel his hand skate over the hot skin of your ass where the belt has met you more than once tonight, “Making you be his pet, kneeling on rice, he’s so mean isn’t he?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply breathily as the buzz of the vibrator turns up higher.

“I have to be mean, too,” he says softly, hand cracking down hard on your ass in a sweeping smack, “Remember what you said to me earlier?”

“No, sir,” you whimper, the cry caught in your throat finally aching back out. Tears rapidly stain your face as you see Eddie come into view at the end of the bed.

“Why don’t you try a little harder?” Eddie bites, a short smack with his fingers bouncing off your cheek, “Use your brain.”

“I said you — shit, five, FIVE, oh my god five — please turn it off Ed, please,” you whine, hips jumping to escape the vibrations, your clit beginning to ache. A wave of concern washes over his features at the sound of his name and not ‘sir’.

“What did you say to Steve earlier? Tell me and I’ll consider it,” he says, eyes scanning you hurriedly to check your face for signs of discomfort beyond what you could normally handle. You huff and cry, too overstimulated to answer him.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he warns, hand snaking back into your hair.

“I said he wouldn’t do shit,” you grit out, whimpering out a broken, “Six.”

“You can turn the toy off, Harrington,” he says gruffly. Two more lines are marked on your thigh, you shiver when Steve traces them after he turns the toy off.

“Nice collection,” he says, cocking his head over to Eddie’s implements laid out on the dresser. You hear him rifle through his options, Eddie’s quiet instructions while they look together, ‘Too much, she’ll tap out,’ ‘She can only do a few with those,’ ‘You’re not experienced enough for that, you’re not here to practice on my girl.’ Warmth pools in your belly and soothes you despite the stinging on your skin and the bruised ache between your legs. They decide on the belt, it’s Steve’s favorite and yours, and you’re silently happy he joined in because Eddie absolutely would’ve caned you otherwise.

“You have a nice break?” Eddie asks, he appears at the end of the mattress again – torso in your vision. You nod, feeling a wet spot under your cheek from drooling.

He tuts, wiping some of it away, muttering, “You fucking dog,” under his breath.

“I’m not gonna do shit? That’s what you said, right?” Steve asks, you moan in frustration when the toy starts up again between your legs – setting turned up high.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” you stutter out. The last syllable leaves your lips and Eddie’s belt meets you across the thighs with a speed and precision you’ve never felt before. The sound that comes out of you is desperate and aching, barely coming down from the sting when the second comes down hard the side of your ass.

“Didn’t think this one through, did ya, peach?” he asks, a grunt and flounce of his hair adding power to the next one.

“No, sir. I’m s-sorry,” you cry, shoulders shuddering when he follows through with two more. The vibrations of the toy and his rough smacks of the belt blend together again and you gush between your thighs with a high whine. “S-seven,” you whimper.

“What a slut,” Eddie mutters while he adds another line to your orgasm tally, “Gettin’ beat makes you cum?”

“Yes, sir,” you nod feverishly, easing your hips back down lightly over the vibrator wand. He slides the belt he’s wearing out of his belt loops and wraps it firmly around his knuckles. You look up at him petulantly with wet, glassy eyes. Another strike of pain hits your backside as Steve whips the belt against you again.

“What?” Eddie asks, eyebrows raised, “You got somethin’a say?”

“No, sir,” you raspily whisper.

“Good,” he smiles, “Cause pets don’t talk, do they?”

“No, sir,” you admit with a nod, yelping when the leather strikes your thighs.

“You’re gonna cum ten times, baby,” he explains, “I’m gonna help you get there.”

“Since getting whupped makes you cum so much,” he teases before both of them bring their belts down simultaneously. The release of crying is more euphoric than the orgasms, settling into the burn of each rise and fall of their arms, each crack of their belts and slap of their hands raining down on you.

“Ow, fuck that hurts so fucking good,” you wail, “Please more, please.”

“You dirty fucking bitch,” Steve glowers, “You learning anything?”

“Yes, sir – AH! EIGHT – EIGHT!” you scream, the choked sob in your chest wracking through you into a full on meltdown. They both drop their belts, Steve approaching you again with both hands gripping your hot, welted skin hard. You squirm under his touch while his hand barrels down on you again, the other turning off the toy.

“You know something, peach,” he says, finger softly tracing whatever Eddie wrote on your back, “I think you act like a bitch ‘cause you wanna be fucked like one.”

You squeal out a noise while he kneads the burning fat of your hips and thighs, spreading you open, “Does that sound right?”

“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” you say between big breaths, trying to steady your sobs. You relax into the relief of the toy being turned off, shivering at the feeling of his finger going back to trace the words on your back.

“Says here you’re an anal slut,” he smirks, “You like getting fucked in the ass?”

“She loves getting fucked in the ass,” Eddie answers for you, a whiff of his cologne and cigarette smoke wafts through the room while you feel him detach the spreader bar from between your legs.

“So how about I fuck you like that? Think that’ll drive it home?”

You nod while Eddie uses his switchblade to cut open the rope on your wrists and thighs, your hands falling down towards the mattress limply. You lift one of them to push yourself up but Eddie catches your arm.

“Stay,” Eddie says sternly, “You didn’t answer his question.”

“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” your voice sounds moody and petty.

“Is that what you want?” Eddie asks, brows raised again. You can tell he wants your extra reassurance since this was newer territory. He didn’t share you very often, and not normally with someone so close to home.

“Yes, sir,” you nod, he squeezes your arm twice in silent communication. A gentle reminder. A silent ‘I love you’.

“Get her on her back, Harrington,” he smiles, “That’s how she likes it best.”

Steve, though still stern, takes his time working you up to it – teasing your clit with his thumb until wetness pools out of you down to your ass.

“You like it slow like this? Like getting stretched out?” he asks, “You’re not my toy, so I don’t wanna break you.”

“Mmm,” is all you can reply as one of his fingers pumps slowly in and out of your tight hole, your hips moving in time. Your head lolls back over the end of the mattress where Eddie’s stood over you, the mix of his musk and body wash filling your nose while his balls sit over your mouth.

“Oh, you can break her, Harrington,” Eddie nods, “Put some miles on her.”

Eddie pops open a bottle of lube and tosses it to Steve, “Two squirts is normally enough to get the second finger in, she’ll loosen up good after that.”

Your thighs twitch while you hear your boyfriend’s low gravelly voice instruct someone on how to fuck you. How your body reacts, what your body wants. Like he’s always been studying you this whole time. You preen into his touch when his ringed hand slides town your torso to move Steve’s thumb away from your clit.

“You like getting used, angel?” Steve asks, easing a second finger in slowly. You groan at the stretch, legs shaking when the pads of Eddie’s fingers swirl over your clit at the speed and pressure you like the most. “Mhmm,” you muffle out, hand reaching out to grab Eddie’s thigh, nails digging into his skin while you continue to drool onto his sac. He hisses at the bite of the assault, “Hands to yourself.”

You whine when he takes his hand away, offering three short slaps to your clit with his fingers.

“Nine,” you gasp out, hips jolting at the pleasure from the pain and the fullness of Steve’s fingers pumping in and out of you. You lay there like that for a bit, eyes fluttering closed while Eddie guides his cock into your mouth, slowly pushing in and out while his hand cups your face.

“Think you’re ready for something bigger, peach,” Steve says softly, pushing your thighs up to press against your chest. You instinctively hold them up, never having to be told where and when to be helpful in providing access to you. You feel the blunt head of his cock push forward and you suck in a breath through your nose while Eddie’s length slides against your tongue. His thumb smoothes over your jaw bone.

“You can take it,” he encourages, his hand moving downward to grab one of your breasts. A quiet groan bubbles out of his chest when Steve pushes himself in to the hilt, making you moan over his cock.

“So tight, shit,” Steve grunts, a soft sheen of sweat forming on his forehead while his body finds balance on the mattress to begin thrusting. And thrust he does, not caring about your pleasure – only his. Eddie doesn’t mind though, he knows that part of what gets you off is the total disregard for you, that delicious taste of degradation and humiliation that comes with being used.

“She’s good, isn’t she Harrington?” Eddie asks, hips moving a little faster while he fucks your mouth. Your eyes roll behind closed eyelids as the sensation of one of them pushing in and the other pulling out rocks you against the mattress.

“Fucking Christ,” Steve gasps, “Yeah, shit – better keep her on a fuckin’ tight leash.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair before both of them find a solid grip on your waist, drilling into you. You jump with each slam of his hips while your skin smacks together, waking up the buzzing sting of the welts they both left behind. You let yourself be used, moaning muffled by Eddie’s girth, pussy pulsing over nothing while they took turns teasing your clit and chest. Rough grabs turning into soft, feathery touches. Leather and lace, push and pull, back and forth.

“Gettin’ close, baby,” Eddie grumbles, the snap of his hips starting to stutter when he pulls out of your mouth. You obediently keep your mouth open and he laughs at you, tapping your chin closed.

“No, you don’t get to swallow my cum,” he taunts, “You didn’t earn that.”

You watch him fuck his fist, eyes burning with lust while he watches Steve pull you closer to him on the bed, your face finally staring up at him. You can smell the spice of his cologne, see the fire in his light brown eyes, his furrowed brow while he rapidly reaches his orgasm. Each thrust gets more punishing while he berates you into the mattress.

“You take it so good, you fucking slut,” he hisses, “He trained you real fuckin’ good.”

He leans over you, one hand supporting him, the other creeping up the front of your neck. You’re too fucked out to notice Eddie grab his wrist before Steve can put any pressure on your airways. Offering him a quiet ‘not tonight,’ with a shake of his head, curls bouncing next to him. Steve nods, not skipping a moment to use the same hand to smack you hard across the face – your back arches immediately.

“Ten, oh my god, ten,” you cry out while your final orgasm rips through you, gushing down between your legs over Steve’s cock. Relieved and satisfied, the tears start to pour out of you again. Aftershocks of your orgasm making you writhe and whine, cry and shake.

Suddenly, you feel Eddie’s cum shoot in hot spurts over your face. You sputter, eyes shut tight, face contorting while he purrs a low, “You want some more?”

You whimper, letting out a pathetic ‘mhm’ with a nod in order to keep your mouth shut. You feel Steve’s knees walk over you, the ‘schlick, schlick, schlick’ of him fucking himself over you, using your cum for friction.

“Say please, baby,” Steve coos over you.

“Please, sir, please,” you beg, warm briny spend leaking into your mouth at the words. You catch the hitch in his breath before his own thick ropes of cum land on your face. You hear his ragged breathing, feel the shift of his weight while he leans over your body before getting off the bed.

“Fuck, heh, she’s – damn – she’s good, man,” Steve laughs. Eddie laughs with him, ringed hand coming down to smear their cum into your face before cracking his palm against your cheek from above you.

“As usual, rode hard and put away wet,” his tone is bored and it makes you shiver again, “Go hit the showers, Harrington.”

You hear him step out and the bathroom door shut partway down the hall, the air stills now that it’s just you and Eddie. You let out a long, contented, shuddering sigh; too tired to cry, too tired to do much of anything. In the fog, he says ‘I’ll be right back,’ to you, and you aren’t sure how much time has passed between his leaving the room and his arrival.

“Hey baby,” he croons, “You with me?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. You feel the warmth of a wet washcloth smooth over your face, taking gentle care over your eyes and lips. “Can you open your eyes for me?” he asks, pushing your hair away from your damp forehead. Your eyes open halfway, looking at him through bleary vision – he’s handsome just the same.

“Hi there,” he grins.

“Hi,” you croak out.

“Why don’t you rest a little?” He suggests, pressing a kiss to your cleaned off cheek, “I’ll be right here.”

You barely register the last syllable of his sentence, exhaustion taking over before you can even agree to the sentiment.

You wake up slowly, eyes blinking open to the dull flicker of the collection of drippy pillar candles on Eddie’s dresser and the glow of his bedside lamp. He sat up against the wall beside you, book in hand, something new he picked up from a friend at the garage. You lazily reach over and put your hand on his knee, groaning a little at the stretch in your skin where him and Steve had left their marks.

“There you are,” he smiles, peering over his book, “You have a good rest?”

You nod, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “How long was I out?”

“Couple of hours,” he said, starting to giggle, “You slept like a log. Just – out cold. I thought you died.”

You peer around the room and see that it’s been straightened up, the heats on. You’ve been covered up in blankets – water and aspirin already set up next to you.

“Where’s Steve?” you ask, wincing while you sit up in bed, reaching for the pills to down them.

“He went home,” he says, dog earring the page and setting it down at the end of the bed, “But he told me to tell you he owes you a night out.”

“Ugh, a night out with Harrington – can’t wait,” you roll your eyes, sipping your water.

“I told him you’d rather chew glass,” he laughs, the laugh fades to a look of fondness, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Was that good? Was that okay with you?” he asks, scooting closer to pull one of your hands between his. His fingers toy with your absent mindedly while he waits for your answer.

“Yes, baby, it was okay,” you smile, chuckling at the dichotomy of his dominant persona and who he is after.

“Just okay? Are you alright? Did you like it?” His questions are feverish and you can tell he feels guilty, teetering on getting too in his head.

“Ed, honey –” you start, offering him a kind look that makes his shoulders relax, “I loved it. I love when we play. Adding Steve was really fun.”

“You don’t want him, like, every time, right?” he asks.

You pull a face, “No, ew. That’s like, a punch card kind of thing. Every five fucks he gets to join or something.”

You both laugh in the low light of the room and he leans his head against the wall, looking at you through the slits of his eye lids, “I love you – I’m sorry it felt like I wasn’t connecting with you lately.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, “I should’ve said something. I just, I don’t know – hate seeming like I’m being needy when I’m sad that you canceled a date. Like, we’re adults.”

“It’s okay to be disappointed about it,” he shrugs, “I would be, too. S’not gonna hurt my feelings or start a fight if you’re just like ‘Hey, you’re bumming me out – let’s fix it’. I wanna fix these things – this is the long haul, baby. You’re not getting away from me any time soon.”

“Um – but can I be honest about something?” you ask, nerves creeping into your chest.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Um, please don’t talk about Chrissy like – ever again.”

His shoulders deflate, “Baby…I wish you told me, you should’ve–”

“I know, I know, I should’ve said something when it was happening but I just. I froze?” you try to explain, “I didn’t like that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he pleads, and you know he really means it, “You know I would never. I don’t really want her like that. I was just trying something new. I never want you to feel like there’s someone else.”

You nod with a tight smile, “I just like – that’s why I’m scared to complain. Cause what if you wanna be with someone who will just like – brainlessly do whatever you want and not care?”

He tries to fight a smile but he can’t help it, “Well, babe, I mean…you already sort of brainlessly do whatever I want.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you tease, swatting at him. He catches your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it.

“You can complain every day for the rest of your life,” he says simply, “And I’’ll feel lucky to be the guy you’re complaining to.”

“So, why don’t we get you in the shower,” he starts, voice soft and smokey, “I’ll clean you off.” He presses a slow kiss to your cheek, crawling over you.

“Get you all relaxed,” he says, before tilting your head up to take your lips in his. It’s loaded with desire, not a peck, but a hungry mouth on yours, “Patch you up a little.”

“I already started dinner.”

Kiss. “Your favorite.” Kiss.

“We can eat.” Kiss.

“We’ll have dessert.”

Kiss.

“Your favorite, again.”

Kiss. “And you can have –”

Kiss.

“All of my attention –”

Kiss.

“For the rest of the night.”

His big brown eyes linger on yours when he breaks away from his final kiss, lost in looking at you.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, I just – damnit –” he sucks his teeth, “I made myself hard again.” You giggle at his frustration, leaning forward until your noses press against eachother.

“We can take care of that,” you start –

Kiss.

“In the shower.”

#sadist!eddie munson #sadist!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #dom!eddie munson #dom eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things fanfction #sadist eddie munson

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animehideout · 4 months

Text

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART TWO.

Read part 1 here.

Read part 3 here

Gojo Satoru x Fem! reader.

a/n: I hope you enjoy this part, in the next parts things will get more exciting and heated so stay updated..

warnings: At some point this story will contain SMUT parts.

words count: 1127.

You awoke to a pounding headache, your phone ringing none stop. You had trouble sleeping at night, the house was spacious and it felt really cold and empty.

"Shit, it's already 10 am," you muttered upon realizing the time.

Picking up the phone, you anticipated the caller is your nosy cousin.

"Morning," you greeted, met with her enthusiastic response. "Everything okay? Why'd you call?"

"Come on, spill! Did the curse break?" she asked.

With a sigh, you knew this was none of her fucking business.

"No. You know it takes time, right? It's gradual."

"Ah, how was it, then?" she inquired.

"How was what?" you raised an eyebrow, already prepared for her persistent questioning.

“Having sex with the famous Gojo Satoru?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart raced. Should you lie? He didn't touch you he hadn't even stayed the night.

"G-good," you lied, "Gotta go now," you added, ending the call with a flush on your face.

You'd always fantasized about your first time, picturing a softly lit bedroom, under the touch of your lover, while making love passionately. But, all those dreams shattered the moment you married Satoru. Neither of you had any intention in touching each other.

You stretched out of bed to prepare breakfast "Am I gonna live like this forever?”

•At Jujutsu High•

"Oh, Gojo-sensei! What brings you here?" asked Yuji.

"Huh? Teaching!" Gojo replied, putting his blindfold on.

"But you just got married," Yuji remarked.

Gojo patted Yuji's head and smiled, "Then who's going to teach my precious students if I'm not here?"

"Oh, about that, Principal Yaga said Mei Mei and Utahime-sensei will handle it."

"Hah? No!"

"Bothered, Gojo Satoru?" Mei Mei said in a seductive tone as she approached.

"Shouldn't you be next to your wife? Snuggling?" she teased.

"And let you teach my students? Oh no."

"Utahime, you're here! See, Gojo left his wife all alone in bed just to teach."

"I give it to you, Gojo. You're committed to teaching," joked Utahime.

"Satoru," said Principal Yaga, appearing in the classroom.

"Been on the phone with your wife," he added.

"Huh, why?" questioned Satoru.

"Well, you're a married couple, and teaching will consume all your time. So, she'll start teaching here as well, and both of you can spend time together," he explained.

Satoru froze but maintained a blank, poker face.

"She doesn't even have cursed energy. What do you expect her to teach? Rocket science?"

“Huh he doesn't want his wife here?” whispered Utahime.

“I mean you know both of them were forced into this, bet he didn't even fuck her” said Mei Mei in her usual amused tone.

"I know, but she's skilled in martial arts and weapon use. She'll excel at training your students."

"Did she accept your offer?" Satoru asked through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, she was happy about it. She said she'll be here in an hour."

“So should be we leave, since Gojo is here?” Asked Utahime.

“Leave? hah we've come all the way just to leave” Replied Mei Mei “also it's a great opportunity to meet your wife, Gojo.. and celebrate”

“Celebrate?” asked Megumi.

“Yeah your step mom will start working here, she deserves a good welcoming”

“Quite that Mei Mei, dont make a buzz out of it” said Gojo in an annoyed tone.

“come on, Gojo.. Don't spoil the fun.. don't you think your lovely wife is deserving of a celebration ”

• Time Skip •

Y/n's Pov

It was my first time at Jujutsu High, unlike my siblings, cousins, and now husband. I've always been at home, locked away because my family feared that curses might harm me and I won't be able to defend myself. So, I trained at home, learning martial arts and weapon use as my only means of self-defense.

Now, stepping in as a teacher, life indeed full of surprises.

End Of Pov

As you walked inside, someone snatched you into an empty corner.

"What the hell do you think you're doing y/n?" asked Gojo, placing his giant hand on your mouth.

You pushed it away, frowning "Huh?" you raised an eyebrow.

"You'll go to Principal Yaga now, apologize, and tell him that you changed your mind and rejected his offer."

"And who do you think you are to order me around?" you fought back.

"You have no business here, y/n. You're making this more complicated for both of us."

"So, you expect me to be locked in your house forever? Sleeping, eating, and looking out the window?"

"Yes, but not forever, its until you get rid of that curse, and then we'll divorce."

"You're insane. Get out of my way," you said, walking past him but he grabbed your forearm, pulling you closer, his face a few inches away from yours, you could feel his hot breath.

"You're making a mistake."

"Don't worry. I'm here to teach, not to chased after you" you spat back, freeing yourself and leaving him standing there.

....

“SURPRISE” everyone screamed their lungs out the moment you stepped into the school's common room.

New faces, you only recognized Principal Yaga's face since he was invited to your wedding.

“Hello y/n sensei!! I'm Itadori Yuji, This is Fushiguro and this is Kugisaki.. we'll be your students” he said in a cheerful tone, giving you a genuine contagious smile.

You smile back, “nice to meet you Itadori-kun” .

“Y/N” started Mei Mei “Congrats for this post, and congrats for your wedding as well” she smiled giving you a hug.

“we heard a lot about you” added Utahime hugging you as well.

Gojo finally joined you, silently leaning against the door frame, observing as you interacted with his students and collegues.

“GOJO!! this beauty deserves a honey moon, can't believe you. You know teaching can wait” Mocked Mei Mei trying to embarrass you.

“Yeah true, newly wed couples should have other things to do instead of teaching” Teased Utahime, trying to offend both of you.

As he began to speak, you cut him off, "Nah, don't worry about us. We already talked and decided to postpone our honeymoon," you said, smiling, fully aware of their intentions.

Gojo approached, wrapping his strong arms around you. "Yeah, y/n and I did talk things out," he stated, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "I'll let this slip once. Don't get comfortable, acting like a real wife."

"You're the one clinging to me right now by the way" you retorted, prompting him to move away.

"Do you see that, Utahime? Not even a spark of love or respect between them," she smirked.

Gojo's Pov

Is that so, y/n? Trying to embarrass me and act like a real wife now. I'll need to put you in your place, and I think Utahime and Mei Mei might be useful this time...another woman will definitely push you away.

End of Pov

Taglist 🫶🏻:

@hermitkerm @smolbeanzzz @eolivy @sanriosatoru @khaleesihavilliard @ryumurin @bookswillfindyouaway

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b4tasquad · 11 months

Text

✭ HANDSY: NIKO OMILANA

Authors note: the lack of beta squad related stuff on here makes me sick every time i open this app. therefor i’ve made it my mission to not only revive the beta squad # but also find others that love them as much as i do. please hmu if you like them, i beg 🙏

Warnings: eh nothing really. just language, lmk tho.

…

“I still don’t get why we couldn’t have someone else in her place.” Niko stares intently on the flat screen facing him, eyes set on you getting placed in position in the other room.

When the YouTuber got told that they’d be filming a blind date video like this, he was excited. Not only would he see two people spend a long amount of time with a complete stranger, but he’d laugh and joke about it while getting paid. It was a win- win situation. What he hadn’t seen coming was the special guest on today’s episode being you, his girlfriend.

Now, he had to watch guys try to flirt and win you over, and had to fake being happy about it too.

“The people wanted her.” Kenny shrugs from his seat next to him on the comfortable sofa, eyes on his phone but still knowing who his best friend was talking about. He was referring to the post they made on their official account, asking people to comment who they wanted featured more in videos. Majority of the comments asked for you, another famous influencer in the Uk, who had been spotted around the guys before.

“My girlfriend, really?” He still feels uneasy. Not in a million years would he think you would ever leave him for another guy, but ideas that the internet would start shipping you with someone else were entering his head. It made him feel sick.

“That’s what you get for having a secret relationship.” AJ replies making the rest of them break out into mocking laughter. The group knows the internet would break your relationship into bits, overanalysing and picking on everything but they still found humour in how mad their friend seemed to be at the thought of his girl being on fake dates

“So funny.” The tall boy rolles his eyes. When AJ, Chunkz and Sharky sat behind him doesn’t stop laughing, he makes a move to hit every single one of them. “Shut up.”

Fortunately, they’re told to get into position, making them ultimately shut up. The camera got set up and the person behind them giving them a signal to start.

“Today we have a special guest!” Kenny introduces.

“It’s me.” You speak flatly, hearing his words through the mic in your ear. “I’m the special guest.”

You can hear the guys groan hating the lack of happiness in your voice. Keeping up his role and hiding the fact that you were in a committed relationship, he clears his throat. “You gotta be more enthusiastic than that. You’re on beta squad, we’re giving you a chance to make a name for yourself.”

If you hadn’t been on camera, you would threaten to break up with Niko, but since you were you tried a different approach. “You’re almost speaking like I don’t have more followers than you. Bitch I’m making your career.”

“A round of applause.” Sharky tells at your bite back, and Niko side eyes him knowing of the small crush he had on you. It wasn’t hard to tell really, the guy took your side on literally anything and smiled stupidly at the things you said.

“Niko could you zip it, we’re paying her for the minute don’t drag it out.” You can’t help but laugh in your seat at Chunkz’ words, nodding in approval at his humour.

“Anyways.” You continue, eyes set on the camera as you cross your legs. “Let’s get into the video.”

The boys introduce the idea for the video and that’s when you remember this is the first time they’ve done it on their channel. Basically, you’re going to be going on an arranged date with a guy, and the group have certain stages you had to go through to help you find ‘your perfect match’.

As Kenny concludes the whole thing, you can’t help but roll your eyes and sigh. “ I’m not even looking for a guy. I’m all good.” You tell, a little smile on your face as you think of your lover. As if catching on to it, Niko also stupidly smiles in his seat, feeling much better about it now.

“Contestant one.” They call out and the next second, a blonde walks into the little setup. From across the table you thin your lips a little as you look over him.

“She hates him!” Chunkz cackles, pointing at the scene on the screen. “Did y’all see that little lip thing? This gyal is crazy for that one.”

Niko grins to himself.

“Hey.” The guy greets, and to be polite you get up and hug him, muttering pleasantries. You’re going for a friendly and comfortable hug, your arms loosely wrapping around his middle. The guy on the other hand tightened his hold on your waist, hands creeping down.

“Hell no.” You push away, a disgusted laugh rippling out of you at this actions. “D’you not have shame? Mans tried to grab my bunda before introducing himself. Get him out. Can I vote people out?”

The four other members, slowly look towards Niko, watching almost fearfully as he gets up from his seat, not caring wether the camera was still on. He wasn’t thinking logically, only feeling anger as someone got handsy with his girl. You’re laughing at the guy, not even giving him a chance to explain himself when Niko storms in, eyes set on the unknown guy.

“You, get the fuck out.” He points towards the exit. Behind him, the rest of the guys run after him, calling for their friend to stop.

“Niko, chill.” Sharky tells him, coming up to him and stopping him from doing something stupid. You’ve completely frozen near the table, never seen your boyfriend so mad.

“I’m not going to stop, what the fuck? This lad is proper mad, trynna grab her.” At his words you finally snap out of your shock.

“Let it go.” You plead with him, coming to stand besides him. Still wary of the countless eyes of contestants and others, you make a note to not touch him and plead with your eyes instead.

He silently nods, but he’s not done. “He’s out. Or me and y/n aren’t doing the video.” To someone who only know you two as influencers, they must think Niko is crazy. Not only raging, but threatening to leave the video for a girl he didn’t know that well must’ve seemed crazy.

“Why are you so mad?” The guy who minutes before tried to touch you questions, standing a good distance away from you guys.

“Don’t fucking speak, you little shit.” You tell him, sick of him. Because of him, your boyfriend not only got uncharacteristically mad, but the guy you didn’t know had managed to make the whole thing weird.

It wasn’t a question for the rest of the beta squad, without even a second of thinking they got the guy removed of set, him cussing him out as they do so.

“You good? Can we continue?” AJ asks, his question directed to the two of you. Niko’s chest was heaving, and with the lack of eyes on you now, you take a hold of his hand, kissing the back. It seems to relax him a great deal.

He nods. “Yeah.” Letting go of your hand, he leans down to hug you close to him, secretly kissing your covered neck, whispering a little “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay baby.” You tell him, nodding to give him even more reassurance. “Don’t worry about these guys, I don’t want anyone but you. This is just a video.”

Even though he doesn’t seem completely content with the idea of it, he seems to feel much lighter than a few minutes ago. Now, seemingly in the joking mood again, he huffs a laugh. “I should’ve smoked his jaw.”

Kenny is the first one to break as he hears the words, imagining Niko in a fight. After that, the rest of the guys fall into heavy laughter, and you can’t help but let out small giggles yourself at the thought of your funny and problem solving boyfriend getting into a physical fight.

As if you’ve betrayed him, he looks at you with widened eyes and an open mouth, before addressing his friends behind you. “Stop laughing!”

They laugh even more at that.

#niko omilana #Niko omilana x you #Niko omilana x reader #beta squad #aj shabeel #kingkenny #chunkz #sharky #y/n #celebrities #youtube

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reds-fluff-extravaganza · 6 months

Text

Jax x cat-like!reader

Requested over on ao3! Reader’s digital form is that of a cat with cartoony arms and legs!

No one in the Digital Circus would have guessed that you and Jax would get along, considering you are very cat-like, and cats and rabbits don’t usually get along in nature. However, not with you and Jax, you two got along pretty well since you two are both pranksters, but you two tend to joke and mock each other. The thing is, which is quite unfortunate for Caine and the others, you two occasionally get into little prank wars. Fortunately it never goes too far to where it hurts anyone as you don’t want to actually hurt anyone with your pranks.

Jax had started the first one with the ole bucket of water above the door prank, which you did not appreciate very much, and so began your series of pranks against each other. The others would avoid you two to not get caught in the crossfire, even if your pranks are harmless.

Now you two were in another prank war, which you accidentally started. You didn’t mean to, it just happened! You were just hoping this wasn’t going to last very long, but you weren’t going to just give up, no. No, you wanted him to give up first.

“Jax will not get the better of me.” You would tell yourself as you prepare your next prank. You had to keep an eye out for the smug boy so he wouldn’t ruin your prank. Unfortunately for you, Jax would not be the one on the receiving end of the prank, but rather a very unfortunate Caine who was making sure things were running smoothly and mostly checking on everyone, even if he won’t outright say it.

You were just waiting for Jax to show up, lightly tapping your foot in slight anticipation to what was about to happen, that is, until you heard a familiar voice, not one you were expecting at that moment. Not Jax’s, but Caine’s.

“Y/n! It is always a pleasure to see you!” You went to warn him about your “contraption” but the next thing you knew, the poor ringmaster was covered in glitter.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Caine..?” You knew he wasn’t very happy.

“Oh (bonk!) kitten, did you end up getting Caine instead of little ole me?” You saw Jax standing in the doorway, trying his best not to (boop!) off.

“I’m sorry, Caine, you weren’t my target! I was trying to get Jax back for earlier!”

“I was wondering what you were up to after that. Saw ya working on something but you wouldn’t let me near it.”

“Yeah, that would ruin the whole thing.”

“Enough!” You two stopped talking and looked over at Caine, who had his arms crossed. “You two are going into… the time out zone!”

“What the (heck) is that?”

“You’ll see in a moment!” And with that, Caine snapped his fingers and both you and Jax were in a room. You took a look around, only to find… it was your room!

“Wait what? This is just my room.” You raised a curious eyebrow before sitting on the bed.

“I can’t believe he put us into time out, over what? A rather funny prank.” Jax crossed his arms and sat beside you

“Yeah, we’re not children.” You shook your head.

“That may be true, kit kat, but I’m not the one who pranked Caine.” Jax looked down at you, a bit of a smug smile on his face.

“That wasn’t my fault nor my intention! I was trying to get back at you!” You gave him a light, playful shove.

“But you’ve gotta admit,” Jax chuckled a bit, “his reaction was priceless! Unfortunately we won’t be able to do that again unless we want to be put into “time out” again.”

“Yeah, that is true.” You lie back, staring up at the ceiling.

“…thanks, Jax.”

“For what?”

“Making my time here more entertaining. If it wasn’t for you and our little pranks, I probably would’ve went a little crazy. I mean, sure, the others are nice, and are fun to be around, but not as much as you.” Jax was actually a bit surprised to hear you say that, but he brushed it off and pats your head.

“Of course, Y/n.”

“Though I think for now… we should call it even and have a truce for now.” You held your hand out to him.

“Fine, fine. Just so we don’t get into trouble with Caine again.” He took your hand into his own and shook it. You then proceeded to pull him down so that he was beside you.

“What are you doing, kitten?”

“Well, while we’re in “time out” we may as well just get comfortable for a bit.”

“You know I have a key to your room, right? So I could get us out of here.”

“Sure, but let’s just stay here for a while, relax, the others have no idea.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Jax shrugged and stared up at the ceiling. “Thanks… for sticking with me, Y/n.”

“It’s no problem, Jax.” You smiled softly and closed your eyes, not falling asleep or anything, just getting comfortable. The two of you ended up spending time together talking, and debating on what kind of shenanigans you’ll get into once you leave the room.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #sfw #jax #tadc jax #jax/reader #jax x reader #tadc jax/reader #tadc jax x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff #fluff oneshot #x reader oneshot #oneshot #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

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damiansgoodgirll · 6 months

Note

heres something with damian: him and reader getting stranded in the airport due to a snowstorm and she cuddles up shyly with him

damian priest x reader

snow outside

you couldn’t believe your flight was getting delayed. well you actually could since there was a snowstorm outside but you really wanted to be home for the weekend and see your family that not even the end of world was going to stop you.

but the snow was increasing and a lot of flights got cancelled and you were worried about your flight too.

“you okay?” damian asked you when he sat next to you.

you just finished to film raw and even if you were supposed to be on different flights, you found yourselves stuck at the airport together.

“my flight is probably getting cancelled…” you whispered, trying everything you could to not to cry.

“mine too…i bet it’s sunny and cold in orlando tho…” he joked and you slightly smiled “are you going back home for a few days?” he asked while sitting next to you.

“i was supposed to before the flight got a four hours delay…” you said while reading all the delays on the screen.

“great…mine just got cancelled…” he said a little annoyed.

“what if i won’t be able to see my family?” you asked him and he could tell you were probably going to cry in any minute.

“hey…come here…” he held you closer “it’s not your fault and your family knows this…it’s just this freaking weather and the fact that we are in canada…and you gotta fly to vegas…i’m pretty sure it’s hot and sunny down there” he joked making you chuckled a little bit “i know how much this means to you…and i’m sure that you’ll see them very soon…” he said “…well, probably not tomorrow since your flight just got cancelled too”

“what?” you almost screamed in exasperation.

“hey hey calm down…take a deep breath for me hermosa…in and out…” damian saw how agitated you were and he was hurting for you. he knew how much you cared for your family and with the fact that you lived in orlando and they were in vegas, he knew you saw them not very often, plus with you being drafted from nxt to raw your life got busier and busier.

“i should call my mom and let her know i’m not visiting them this weekend…she was so excited when i called her yesterday…”

“i know hermosa…i’m so sorry…” he hugged you while you were typing your mum’s number. after calling her and explaining what was happening you felt a little bit more relaxed. you knew she wouldn’t be mad and that she would understand, you were just upset you couldn’t be there for her and your dad.

“it’s pretty cold outside…and here too…” you whispered trying to warm your hands a little bit.

thankfully damian was still hugging you so he didn’t make it awkward when his arm moved closer to your body to keep you closer to his bigger one.

he was cold too but he couldn’t help feeling all warm inside by having you so close.

there was a certain feeling between the two of you. you liked him more than a friend but you never understood his intentions. he was kind with you but he was kind with everyone so that didn’t make it special. he never showed anything that would make it seems like he was interest in you but right now, having him so close to you made you daydream about the relationship you could have.

“what if we share a hotel room?” he asked, waking you from your dream.

“what?”

“i mean…you’re clearly about to fall asleep here and even if i don’t mind you sleeping on me, this would be a very uncomfortable position for you to sleep and it’s clearly too cold here. plus all these people who’s flights been cancelled won’t stop making noise and it’s getting to crowded for my liking…we won’t be able to fly until tomorrow, hopefully the snow stops…and i’d rather sleep on a comfortable bed in a cozy room than staying here…” he said and honestly you were okay with everything he said. you knew there was the airport hotel just a few miles away and that the taxis were still going so before it was too late you both took the opportunity and got to the hotel.

damian got the room and - of course - there was just a bed. you pretended you didn’t care but inside you were the happiest person on earth.

you changed while he took a quick shower and both jumped into bed.

“dam…” you whispered.

“mh?” he turned his head just to see you.

“can you turn the tv on please? i - i can’t fall asleep without the sound…if it bothers you i can try and sleep-…” he didn’t even let you finish that the tv was on “thank you…”

“can i ask you why?” he was curious.

“i started doing it when i started living alone…i’ve always been scared of staying alone at night so the tv helped me calm…”

“but you’re not alone tonight” he almost teased.

“i know it’s just…it helps me you know?” you said shyly.

he loved how you just opened up to him and he honestly wanted to know every single detail of your life but he saw how you were about to fall asleep.

“i know…” he smiled “good night princesa…” he whispered while you closed your eyes. he fell asleep dreaming of more moments like this.

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cherryxblossxms · 1 year

Text

Masturbation May - Day 2b: With Toys (Toji Fushiguro)

A/N: Toji was suggested by the darling @vampnyx and I decided to go just a little nuts with it. Sometimes you gotta write Toji a little nasty, as a treat. Posted a little late, shhhh

Featuring: GN afab reader || Toji x reader

Warnings: masturbation; roommate!Toji, reader and Toji aren't together; hate sex???/hate masturbation?????; no pronouns for reader, but reader has tits and a vagina; sexual fantasies of reader, Toji is kind of a creep; use of sex toys: fleshlight; Toji steals your underwear; creampie

Word count: 1712

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Toji couldn't stand you. He did a fairly decent job at hiding it, still helping you out around the apartment here and there even without your prompting, fixing up your car when the tire went flat or repairing the fridge when it started leaking. But sometimes you just managed to get on his nerves just right and drive him up a wall.

He hated your trusting demeanor. Despite how open he was of what he thought of as his "true nature", you still seemed to give him the benefit of the doubt, ignoring every red flag thrown your way. He hated the way you'd look up at him with clear eyes and strong resolve, how you seemed to look past all his layers and see his hidden self. And even more, he hated how these made him attracted to you.

It also didn't help that you'd occasionally bring some boring, vanilla dope home, sometimes as a new partner or just some casual fun. It was almost painful to him how boring they were, and he couldn't imagine they were actually any good in the bedroom. He was right there, after all, was he no good? You thought you were too good for him?

Instead of going out and finding these basic, one-pump chumps, you could have him instead. He knows they're not doing the job to satisfy you, evident by the awkward way you would send them off and he never saw them again, or at least not for long. No one would be able to make you scream like he could, and no one's dick would ever compare.

And at first, you'd made an effort to introduce these trysts to Toji, maybe as some weak semblance of telling Toji to back off. But as time went on, you eventually stopped trying, quietly bringing them in instead when Toji was out or simply not acknowledging him, and doing your best to sneak them back out at the end. But he knew, he always knew.

Another way he could tell that these trysts weren't doing anything for you was, late at night when you thought he was asleep or maybe hoped he couldn't hear, he'd hear the telltale buzz of a very special toy. He almost felt bad. Almost. You deserved someone that would rock your world, show you how your lovers were supposed to fuck you.

It wasn't actually intentional on his end, but over time, Toji found his thoughts drifting to you when he sated his appetite, whether that was with himself or he found someone at the bar to bring home. When he heard them moan his name, he couldn't help but wonder what it would sound like in your voice instead. When he came, he wanted to know what it'd look like sprayed across your tits, smeared on your delectable lips, or maybe even dripping out of your holes.

It even got to the point he'd imagine your face when he was fucking someone, wishing it was your sweet pussy he was pounding instead. He knew he needed to do something about this, but he'd be damned if he admitted something stupid like he'd caught feelings for you. So he did the next best thing and took your underwear.

If you knew the things Toji thought about you, maybe you wouldn't want to be roommates anymore. Sometimes you had a sneaking suspicion about the darkness and the lewdness of his thoughts, given the dirty jokes he'd make and how he had no qualms about openly checking you out on a regular basis. But even if you did, you couldn't afford rent in the area by yourself, and you couldn't even bare to think of the process of searching for a new roommate.

Something else seemed to tip you off as well, and it related to finding your... unmentionables in the wrong places, just differently placed enough to know that that wasn't how you'd left it, or sometimes they were just plain gone. But even as the suspicions grew, you just couldn't bring yourself to confront your roommate, always worried about falsely accusing him and honestly, you weren't sure what you'd do if he ever admitted his guilt.

Today, something you'd done (Toji's excuse) had managed to rile him up just right, feeling like a beast in rut, and he sought out your laundry hamper as soon as he knew the coast was clear. It took a little digging, but he managed to find a couple pairs of lacy underwear hidden inside. He quickly stuffed them in his pocket and made his way to his room.

He could feel his blood flowing to his cock even without a touch, throbbing with need to be buried inside your sweet cunt. Since he couldn't do that, his next favorite activity these days was jacking off with your underwear, soaking it in his cum before returning it to your hamper, and that was his same mission today.

He wasted no time in pulling out a fleshlight and bottle of lube from his drawer, something new he'd invested in since meeting you. He had no issue with finding plenty of decent lays at the bars. But ever since discovering his little personal problem, even that didn't seem to be enough anymore. Toys weren't exactly his kind of thing, but it took the edge off for now, and it would have to do until he finally made his move.

Toji didn't bother getting undressed before lying on his bed, just feeling it was a waste of time. When he tugged his sweatpants down, he was already fully hard, cock springing out eagerly, and the cool air was a relief as it hit his skin. He poured some lube into his hand and immediately started palming himself, spreading it evenly, even reaching down to tug his balls a little for more stimulation. He followed with pouring more lube into the toy, next, making use of his middle and ring fingers to get the lube deep inside.

The sight of his fingers disappearing inside the pocket pussy only fueled the monster inside him. He caught his thoughts drifting once more, picturing it was you that he was burying his fingers in, pumping in and out to prep you for his cock. Even better, he wanted to bury his face in there, get squeezed by your thighs as he toyed with your pretty little pussy and overstimulated you as much as he wanted.

Once he felt the lube was spread enough, he worked the opening over his tip, getting situated just right before easing it down his shaft. He always hated this part, feeling how cold it was, knowing that if it was you instead, your body would be so hot and comforting, rather than the cold unfeeling silicone. But as he started pumping the toy over himself, it started to warm up, and pleasure finally began to grow in his body.

The room air began to fill with the sounds of quiet grunts and wet, lewd slapping as his pace increased. He alternated between just working the upper, more sensitive part of his cock, and then slamming the toy down to his base. While his one hand worked the toy, he used the other to work his balls, heavy with seed. The pleasure that had started in his toes slowly crept up his body, filling his abdomen with heat now, and he felt like he was losing his mind.

He hated you, he hated your perfect body, and how perfect your pussy probably was. If there was anyone you should have been fucking, it should have been him. No one would ever make you feel as good as he could, no one would ever breed you as well as he could. He'd wait until you finally realize what you're missing, but it was damned annoying in the meantime.

As he felt his climax finally start to approach, Toji stopped for a moment to change positions. He knelt on the bed, pulling over a couple pillows and your underwear. This time, he wrapped one of the pairs of underwear around the fleshlight, admiring the lace and picturing how it would accent your body, and straddled the pillow.

Once he was in position, he started to rut into the toy, one hand on the pillow to stabilize it and the other hand gripping the underwear-covered toy. In this position now, he could better picture it was you that he was pounding beneath him, reshaping your hole to fit his dick and reaching depths you probably didn't even know of.

His grunts became louder as his pleasure rose again, the squelching of the toy and bouncing of the bed springs combining together to create an obscene symphony. Finally, as Toji's orgasm reached the edge, an image of you leaking his cum came unbidden in his mind, and it pushed him past the point of no return. He unleashed a deep, low moan for the final note of the symphony as he slammed forward into the toy, bottoming out and cumming deep inside the toy.

He could feel his balls clenching still, cock throbbing as it let out the last of its release, his whole body thrumming with his heartbeat. Toji sat for a moment, still straddling the pillow and effectively cockwarming his toy, just catching his breath, before sliding out. Instantly, his cum started trickling out and dribbled onto your underwear, still wrapped around the toy.

He loved the sight of your cum-soaked underwear, and it was always his favorite part of taking it from you. It felt like a step closer to claiming you, a step closer to marking you as his completely, and that thought was responsible for making him hard again well before he'd expected. It would be better if his cum was on your skin instead, but he had to think in baby steps.

He couldn't believe how much you'd affected him to make him so desperate, and wasn't even sure of the last time he'd ever felt this way, if at all. But it just proved to Toji you were someone different, someone he needed. He wasn't quite sure how, yet, but he was going to make it his new mission to make you his.

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #toji smut #afab reader #spicy minx 🔥#the minx can write ✍️

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delusional-dinosaurr · 1 year

Text

What Was That For? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Ooooh boy, it’s been a while! I managed to get the writing gears turning so here’s a little one!

It's the Champions League final night in Eindhoven, Lyon versus Chelsea. Chelsea managed to knock out Barcelona in the semi-finals which you were sad but also relieved about, as you're friends with a lot of the Barcelona girls and you didn't fancy facing them in the final.

You used to play for Arsenal, alongside your childhood friend Leah Williamson, but the offer from Lyon was impossible to deny just under 2 years ago. Since then you've become fairly close with the Lyon girls, mainly Daan as you and her left Arsenal at the same time and have been living together ever since. This was your first big final as you didn't make the England euros squad due to an injury, you instead supported your country and some of your friends on other teams. You were obviously still going to attend every match and support your friends and fellow teammates, and also just watch some quality football. You watched all the Spain matches you could too as many of your friends played for the team. Unfortunately you missed out on seeing Alexia Putellas playing due to her also being injured, instead you were blessed with being seated next to her for most matches.

You and Alexia spent a lot of time together during the tournament, grabbing food together, you helped her with stairs as she didn't have a lot of strength in her leg. You had basically become each-others support for the few weeks of the matches, and still talk everyday.

Although one morning, you did wake up the day after the England celebration next to the Spaniard, and neither of you regretted that night. Since then you've had a few nights of being a bit too comfy for 'just friends', regardless of that, you were both happy which is all that mattered.

You sit next to Daan in the locker room and pull over your #16 jersey. You feel a hand steady your bouncing knee.

"Stop that, how about a distraction from your nerves?" Daan says squeezing your knee.

"A distraction? Wait until Ellie hears about this!" You say a little louder for Ellie Carpenter to hear.

"Do what you've gotta do to calm her down babe!" Ellie says winking at you, causing both you and Daan to break out into laughter. Daan perches on your lap and wraps her arms around you and gives you a little squeeze before getting back up. This is something she did back at Arsenal too, as it helped calm your nerves.

"But seriously, I mean a proper distraction. Why don't you call someone? Your mum? Or that secret lover of yours?" She suggests. "My mum is in the crowd so it's gonna be impossible to hear her, and there's no secret lover!" You nudge her shoulder with yours. "Explain the marks you had on your shoulders when you came back from the Arnold Cup, and the last break" Daan smirks at you knowingly. "I can't believe you've been checking me out in the changing rooms!" You joke whilst smacking her leg. "I don't blame her if she does" Ellie perches on the bench next to you "Plus Y/N, those marks weren't that subtle mate" she smiles at you. "It was uh, just a bit of fun with a friend" You say awkwardly whilst picking at your hands, avoiding eye contact with your two best friends. "Hmmm, I doubt it, but I'll quit interrogating you. For now at least. Bad habit, stop that" Daan grabs your hands to stop you picking at them. "Yeah yeah, I know" you laugh, and hear your phone ping, your eyes instantly dart to your phone as does Daan's. "Nope!" You snatch your phone before Daan could grab it from your side. You quickly scan the message, of course Alexia has sent you a good luck message. Ale: Good luck Y/N, I'll be watching the whole match and cheering you along! Maybe I'll even have a surprise for you next time I see you if you win;) You respond with a simple heart as you're being ushered out to the pitch, you audibly gulp at the idea of a surprise from her, knowing full well her intentions. It was nice to know Alexia was watching you from home, although you did find it slightly nerve wracking at the same time.

━━━━━ The first half of the match is uneventful, you weren't in the starting 11 so you've been sat patiently with Lindsey Horan, cracking jokes to ease nerves. "Y/N you're up, You're replacing Amandine in 10" One of the coaching staff says whilst tapping your shoulder. "Go score me a worldie Y/N" Lindsey hugs you. "You're up too Horan" Another staff member calls her over. She starts taking off her coat and warming up alongside you. After those 10 minutes you both get subbed on and Amandine gives you a big hug. The match goes on somewhat smoothly with you assisting a goal for Ellie but Sam Kerr scoring in the 85th minute. You continue playing into extra time, all getting somewhat frustrated at yourselves for fumbling the ball and becoming a bit too aggressive. No goals were scored by either team in the first half of extra time. You look out at the crowd as you head to the side-lines for the half time of extra time. You listen to their cheers, hearing the chant the fans have made for players echoing around the stadium. You look at the family and friends section and see your mum grinning and waving at you wildly alongside your dad, brother and sister. Next to her is not who you expected to see, Alexia Putellas. Your grin only gets bigger as she gives you a small wave, whilst continuing a conversation with your mum. Your family knows Alexia from when you introduced them to each other during the Euros. They got on super well, it also massively helped with your mum being Spanish so that Alexia didn't have to panic about translating to English. Your dad on the other hand knows very limited Spanish. You take a sip from your drink at the side-lines whilst your team are discussing tactics and possibly penalty taking order. You dread the thought of penalties, they're never fun. You head back to your position ready to start the final half, exhausted but after seeing your family and Alexia watching, it has given you that boost you needed.

━━━━━

You all start getting very desperate with 5 minutes of added time due to an injury. Lindsey is prepping for a throw in which you receive effortlessly, you notice Chelsea being looser on defending, so you make sure to pass to Daan whilst the opportunity is there. You run forward without being offside for Daan to whip the ball into the box, and for the ball to connect with foot. You're at a 1v1 with the keeper, you feint as if you're going left and chip the ball over the keeper. You watch the net bulge at the back and hear the roar of the crowd, you run over to where your family and Alexia are seated and point at them. "That one was for you!" You blow them a kiss as your team catch up with you and jump on you. "You did not just chip a keeper in the Champions League final Y/N!" Ellie says jumping into your arms.

You rush back to position to play out the remaining few minutes until you hear the final whistle go. Rather than celebrating you go around and chat to the Chelsea players that are slouched over or sat on the floor.

"You cheeky fucker" Millie Bright says hugging you "Well done though mate, move to Chelsea?"

"Never in your wildest dreams" You laugh hugging her back. Eventually after chatting with the majority of the team, you see all your teammates celebrating to the side and Ellie comes barrelling towards you with a bottle in her hand, so you run away from her laughing. Eventually she does catch you, well Lindsey caught you and held you hostage, and they both covered you in champagne. The medal and trophy ceremony continues, you can feel yourself welling up with pride, all your hard work had finally paid off. Some of your teammates started running over to their families and friends, which were now allowed on the pitch to enjoy the celebrations with the team. You spot your family and Alexia who are busy chatting until a staff member pulls her away. Alexia seems to have been dragged away for a post match interview as everyone is a bit starstruck with her in attendance. You bolt towards your family and give them hugs and talk about the match, they cant stop smiling at you and saying how proud they are. "Where's Alexia?" You ask your mum. "Oh Ale is over there, she wouldn't stop talking about you" She points over to the side of the pitch where Alexia is now talking with Daan and Ellie. "ALE!" You yell, watching her turn around as you sprint in her direction, you can already see the questioning looks from your two best friends who were enjoying a nice conversation with the Spaniard after she had finished an interview.

She has a massive grin plastered on her face as she holds her arms out for you. You wrap your arms around her and tuck your head into her neck.

"Ew you're all sweaty" She fakes disgust.

"You weren't complaining the other night" You joke in response causing Alexia to blush.

“Fuck it” you lean in to kiss Alexia. You can feel her already smiling into the kiss and holding her hands around the back of your neck. You’ve kissed many times before but this one felt different. It was warm, comforting and loving. You eventually break apart to look at eachother.

"What was that for?" She asks you whilst pushing some hair out of your face. "I don't want this anymore Ale, I want to be able to call you mine, like properly" You say confidently, the post winning high giving you that boost in your confidence.

"I'm all yours Y/N, I'm so fucking proud of you" She smiles and kisses you again.

"OH MY GOD ALEXIA PUTELLAS IS Y/N's MYSTERY FRIEND THAT SHE SLEEPS WITH!" Ellie gasps.

"How did they already know?" Alexia groans.

"Well someone wasn't so good at not leaving marks on her girlfriend" Daan winks at you.

"Hey! She's not my..- Wait a second. Are we like, official now?" You ask Alexia.

"I’d like to think so after that!" She grins, you nod in response.

"In that case, what me and my GIRLFRIEND do in our spare time is our business!" You say with your hands on your hips, causing the others to laugh.

"Speaking of that" Alexia smirks at you. Your teammates fake gags and heaving, resulting in laughter from the both of you.

━━━━━

You all end up partying until late, you didn't drink as you wanted to make sure you'd remember the night you not only confessed to Alexia that you want her to be yours, but the night you won the Champions League title. You eventually left the afterparty, being dragged by your now girlfriend to her hotel room.

"Now for the surprise for winning, I bought myself a present" She takes her hoodie off to reveal a Lyon jersey with your surname on it, you audibly gasp seeing her wearing something with your name on it. You manage to mumble out a quiet 'Oh my god' which she laughs at.

"Oh don't worry there's more where that came from" She giggles whilst removing the shirt, revealing some new lingerie which took your breath away instantly.

"Best. Day. Ever!" You cheer.

#Alexia Putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas one shot #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader

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madhatterbri · 8 months

Text

Care | HOOK

Summary: Hook and you broke up. Anna with the help of Jack uses this to come for your championship belt. An unexpected hero saves you.

Author's Note: GIF has nothing to do with this it just makes me feral. 😭🤌

As always, requests. 🥺🥺

Life is hard working for a wrestling company. Friendships and relationships constantly came and went. You travel a lot and spent time with fellow wrestlers more than your own family. You swore you would never be with anyone in AEW until you laid eyes on Hook.

The relationship was physical at first. You both wanted to have sex without feeling bad for someone waiting for you to come home. It was nice at the beginning. You two would meet up together after the show. Times changed when you started developing feelings.

You were honest with him, but he wasn't interested in a relationship. The two of you were young. He wanted to experience the world. More like experience girls around the world. In order to avoid anymore hurt, you two decided to go your separate ways. That was three months ago.

Now you were getting ready to cut a promo in the ring. Your make-up was done and the championship belt was secure on your shoulder. Tonight was simple enough, anger Anna Jay. The two of you hated each other. It wouldn't be hard.

The unsettling feeling of someone watching you made the hairs on your neck stand. You turned to see the handsome devil himself. He was in a hoodie and sweatpants eating chips. His mind seemed to be in a different galaxy, but he was definitely staring at you. You missed being able to talk to him. Maybe that was a resolution for another year.

The familiar sound of your entrance music played in the arena. You walked out to the top of the ramp. The crowd went wild. Fans of different ages reached out for you to high five them.

The microphone was handed to you. An once rowdy crowd was quiet to hear you. You spoke your piece about Anna. Some of the insults were low. Tony gave you the green light to rile up Anna. You were going to take it. Your speech was cut off by Anna's music.

Anna came out with Jack in tow. She stormed to the ring. You dropped your championship belt in the middle of the ring to meet her outside the ropes. Anna was the first to swing. The two of you landing blows on each other. You never noticed Jack grabbing your championship belt from the ring.

"You think your fuck buddy is going to save you, Y/N?" She asked menacingly. You hadn't thought you would really need help. Normally, you weren't really put in jeopardy of actually losing the belt you worked so hard for.

"I don't need anyone," you scoffed. "I got in this business alone and I'll fight and die alone,"

"You think your are so funny?"

"Actually? Yeah," you answered truthfully. The crowd laughed at your corny jokes. You had to be funny. Anna pushed you to the ground. You landed on your hands and knees facing away from her.

'Rude,' you thought before getting up. You stood up and faced her. Before you could attack, Anna kicked you into the stairs. A scream of anguish sounded through the arena.

"What the fuck?" You asked yourself. Immediately the crowd gasped as their women's champ went down. Your head and back slammed to the stairs. Anna stood above you as you slid to the floor. The championship belt displayed on her shoulder. The camera zoomed in on the two of you. Your eyes pleaded for someone to help you.

"This is going to be mine, Y/N. I'm going to beat your ass until I say I'm tired. Do you understand me?" She yelled at you. You moved your legs as if to get up. She stood on your leg to stop you. Painful throbbing occurred under her foot.

The arena went dark. You were starting to wonder if you passed out. Your head throbbed and you were pretty sure your upper back fell out. The familiar rift of Chairman's Intent felt like an angel's song. Cheers filled the arena.

"We gotta go!" Jack yelled to her. Anna dropped the belt and ran with him into the audience.

Hook was at your side.

"Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?"

"I was hoping she'd kick that shitty attitude out of you," he countered and helped you to your feet. Hook grabbed your belt knowing how possessive you were with it. Your legs wobbled as he helped you up the ramp. Several members of the crowd wished you a speedy recovery.

You limped to medical with him helping you inside. Hook helped you on the bed while you waited for the doctors to run their tests on you.

"Thanks. I didn't think anyone was going to save me,"

"You didn't think I would save you?" He questioned.

"I didn't think you would care."

"I've always cared,"

#fanfiction #imagine #hook aew #hook #hook x reader #hook x y/n #hint of angst

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

stupid superpower

rating: teen tags: humor, brotherly ribbing, Dustin has a ✨stupid superpower✨, Dustin continues to have issues with his tone ✨for @slashify at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: Character Has Powers (requested to be Dustin)

“Look, see!” Dustin points at the mat he’s laid out on the coffee table in Steve’s living room. “This is why Dart was so easy, it makes so much sense now.”

He turns to them with the biggest grin that’s getting a little less gummy by the week, now, but…he looks so proud, is the thing.

And it is painful. The pride. What it’s for.

The way they’re gonna have to probably dash it.

“I,” Steve squints at the setup, start to finish, empty cans framing the perimeter before he sighs: “I am not seeing anything, man.”

“No,” Dustin’s voice goes pitchy, really, he should have outgrown that by now, s’looking like it’s a permanent trait, yeesh; “look.”

And he points with such…some superiority, such imperiousness, like…okay, so maybe it’s the least painful of the list, when they have to dash all that pride. Kid’s gotta fucking learn some humility, man. Like, sooner rather than later.

“I told you I could communicate with them!” Dustin pulls off his cap and throws it to the couch, triumphant. Steve watches the mat for a few more seconds before he straights up, cocks his hip and crosses his arms.

“You’re telling me,” he says slowly; “that you talk to slugs.”

Because that…that certainly appears to be what the argument has been. They’d kinda thought Dustin has been joking, in previous passing mention. Eddie, at least, definitely thought he was just being an annoying little prick for how many times he asked if either of them felt particularly chiropteran, muttering about traits from interactions, close encounters, bites would obviously count.

Like, it was Dustin, if they took all the crap he said to heart, weighed it seriously, they’d never do anything else.

Like: ever.

“Interspecial gastropodic extracommunicational phenomena,” Dustin rattles off, a little defensive, if Eddie’s gonna be honest; and it wasn’t exactly called for. Steve just asked a question.

Eddie, on the other hand…

“So slugs and snails,” Eddie confirms, droll as fuck by intention, because Eddie is actually very aware of his tone in most situations, thank you very much; “the shell doesn’t deter you.”

“No, I think it’s the whole at least the whole class, maybe the whole phylum,” and he’s so excited, but, he’s also being a fucking know-it-all about it and there is a part of Eddie that doesn’t want to squash Dustin’s enthusiasm but the bigger part of Eddie, but fucking far, knows for a goddamn fact no one could possible squash Dustin’s enthusiasm, or self-confidence, like, Dustin would happily go toe-to-toe with like, Stephen fucking Hawking, and brag afterward that the intellectual stimulation was lacking.

So Eddie doesn’t actually feel bad about any of this and Dustin rambles on.

“But I think if I got my hands on a limpet, or an abalone—“

And when he looks up he must catch something, like he must be able to tell, to read something despite Eddie being very fucking careful to keep a helluva poker face right now—and Eddie’s kinda proud, because maybe the little shithead can be taught.

“You’re joking,” Dustin concludes, dry as fuck and with the audacity to sound…disappointed? Like in a how-could-you-be-so-juvenile-as-to-stoop-to-this-level kind of way which. Which.

“Not at all,” Eddie clutches his non-existent pearls in mock offense, and Dustin’s eyes just narrow.

“I was right.”

“Might not want to say that too loud, Dusty-Buns,” Eddie shoots right back and Steve coughs unconvincingly to cover a laugh and Eddie bites his bottom lip to stop his own smile, less because of Dustin’s reaction and more just because…Stevie. Being adorable.

Steve being his Stevie.

“Yeah, that feels like slander,” Steve adds in thoughtfully, stroking his chin and everything before he turns to Eddie, considering.

“Can you slander yourself, if you’re embarrassing enough?”

And oh, oh: Eddie adores it when his boyfriend’s bitchy side comes out. He adores it so much.

“‘Course you can, big boy,” Eddie can’t help himself as he leans over and pecks at Steve’s cheek; Dustin scowls at them and Eddie can’t help himself, so he licks up Steve’s cheek for the disgusted grown from Dustin and the half-assed shove from Steve that doesn’t move him further away at all.

“You’re just jealous that I have a superpower,” Dustin ultimately shoots back which: okay, Eddie knows he’s capable of better than that, he’s kind of disappointed, that was so weak.

“It’s a stupid superpower,” Steve points out, plain and simple and Eddie wants to clap his hands. He. Loves. His. Bitchy. Boyfriend.

So. Much.

“Or is it a superpower for stupid?” Eddie asks, turning back to Steve like it’s a genuine question, a worthy debate.

“Naw,” Steve shakes his head, almost regretful; “he is pretty fuckin’ smart.”

“More than one kind of stupid, Stevie,” Eddie notes with due gravitas.

“Envy,” Dustin sniffs, so goddamn superior. “Green’s really not your fucking color,” and ooo, there’s a little snarl, a little sneer on his lips; “either of you.”

“I look good in green,” Steve points out, not even petulant, just factual.

“For example,” Eddie picks up and talks over Dustin’s comment like he never made one, leveling the little asshole with a pointed look:

“Some people are stupid about their tone.”

Steve doesn’t even try to cover his snort that time.

“You look good in everything, sweetheart,” Eddie takes the opportunity to comment, to sneak another kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth as he purrs; “and out.”

“Disgusting,” Dustin gags and Eddie turns to glare as he bites out:

“Tone!”

Like, way to prove Eddie’s fucking point for him, wow, the lack of self-preservation is overwhelming here.

“I’m gonna go find El,” Dustin announces, like he thinks it’s an airport; “she will be thrilled to have someone like her around—“

“Remember what I said?” Eddie turns to Steve, exaggerates the knowing look he gives; “types of dumb,” then he turns again to Dustin, and knows his look is pitying, because he fucking means for it to be.

“Telekinesis and slug-speak aren’t even in the same universe, man,” and Jesus H., Dustin looks offended at the suggestion, which.

Which.

“The overlap of telepathic—“

“Slugs, Dustin,” Steve butts in, cuts him off; “I drown those fuckers in little bowls of beer in the yard. They go in willingly,” and oh. Oh, Eddie loves his boyfriend.

Eddie loves his boyfriend so goddamn much.

Because he hadn’t even noticed the set up, the slight of hand, because Steve had overturned the can of PBR he hadn’t finished, that had gone warm anyway, and dumped it into the shallow little bowl that used to have pretzel sticks inside, low enough to, to—

“Well they won’t anymore,” Dustin declares, fucking haughty with it; “because I will tell them—“

“Yet behold, special super slug-whisperer,” Eddie gasps and gestures wide to the mat where the slug demonstration had originally taken place: “whatever do we have here?”

What they have there is the little bowl of beer, set on the slug mat.

With slugs already drowned inside.

“Probably maybe you should be smarter about where you stick your attention if you really want to save your precious children from their hoppy graves,” Eddie shrugs, and infuses his words with as much fake fucking concern as he can fit into them because slug-whispering.

Fucking honestly.

Dustin only wastes a few seconds gaping at the scene, mouth working around something—comprehension, maybe, or just some degree of shock—before he turns his eyes up and glares at them both.

“You’re evil,” he says definitively, pointing; “both of you.”

“Go see El, Super Slug,” Eddie smiles indulgently; “she’s absolutely trembling with anticipation at the arrival of an equal, I’m sure of it.”

“After all, didn’t you say,” Steve shrugs and folds his arms over his chest, looks Dustin up and down before delivering the final blow:

“You were right.”

And Dustin scowls, and Eddie cackles, because that’s his brother, that’s their brother.

“Fucking assholes,” Dustin mutters, and leaves his slug mat and the beer-bowl behind as he stomps out the door: these children really need to learn about cleaning up after themselves, even if they leave in a stompy little huff like a goddamn toddler, fucking hell: but still.

Dustin’s their brother.

Like they were ever going to let him get away with bragging about slug powers.

permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #henderfam #humor #fluff #established relationship #featuring brotherly banter with one mr. problematic *TONE*: dustin henderson #dustin has superpowers #(but just one really and it's very stupid)#dustin henderson #hitlikehammers' hobbit-birthday prompt fest #stranger things #gift fic #slashify

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