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dollgxtz · 2 months

Text

Getting Closer

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking

AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"

AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡˘)♡

Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.

Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?

"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"

Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.

Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.

"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.

You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.

"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.

"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.

"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.

"She seems pretty funny to me"

"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"

"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.

"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"

You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.

Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.

"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".

"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.

"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"

Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.

You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???

You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???

"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"

Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.

You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.

Your phone rings.

You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.

"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?

"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.

"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"

"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.

"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.

Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.

"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?

You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.

"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.

"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"

He hangs up.

You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.

But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.

Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.

You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.

Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.

The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.

"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.

"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.

"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"

You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.

"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"

"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.

That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.

You hang up.

Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.

You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.

You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.

Shit shit shit.

His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?

You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.

"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.

"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.

Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.

"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.

You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.

"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.

'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".

As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.

"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.

As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.

The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.

"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.

"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.

"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.

You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.

Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.

You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.

"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.

You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.

You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.

You hear footsteps behind you.

The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.

That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.

You collapse.

Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.

Wait. The balcony.

Fuck.

You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.

Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.

"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"

"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.

"Would you have heard me?"

"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.

You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.

"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"

Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.

"Surprise...~"

You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.

He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.

You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.

He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.

"So fucking predictable, as usual"

He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.

"None of those are safe words sweetie"

You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.

"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.

"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.

"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"

He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.

???

You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.

You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.

"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.

"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.

This bastard.

He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.

"Sylus, I-"

Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.

"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.

"Its supposed to"

"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.

"Calm down kitten"

"Sylus-'

"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"

You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.

"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."

With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.

Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.

You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.

When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.

Sylus.

You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.

"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.

"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".

You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.

"Yeah, lets go"

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus #sylus x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deep space smut #love and deepspace sylus #lads smut #lads sylus #l&ds smut #l&ds sylus #love and deep space x reader #lads

3K notes · View notes

sourlove · 5 months

Note

Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️

TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY

A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.

READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE

Thanks for the ask!

The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.

"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"

Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"

"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.

"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.

"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.

"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.

Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."

"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."

"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."

"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.

"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"

Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.

When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.

"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.

"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."

You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."

"A sap for you, honeybun~"

"I said don't call me that in public!"

"But whyyyy?"

You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.

"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.

You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?

The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.

Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.

"You."

Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.

"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"

You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"

The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.

He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"

"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"

FIND ALL MY WORKS HERE

A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.

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fairyysoup · 7 months

Text

his hands

pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men

a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore.

“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?”

The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with.

The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.

You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.

“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”

“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.

“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.”

“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?”

You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.

“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.

“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”

“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.”

You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”

“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind.

You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.

It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open.

Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.

You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.

You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.

After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it.

“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter.

You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?

Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.”

You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look.

“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”

You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens.

“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”

“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies.

Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”

“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.

“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”

“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again.

“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”

“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible.

“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”

You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”

Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”

“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.”

“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?”

“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit.

“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.

You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.

He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.

After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.”

You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head.

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.

“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat.

Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.

“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”

His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror.

Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it.

Cocky bastard.

“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?”

“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”

“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”

A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places.

“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation.

Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.

“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.

“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for.

“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”

“Tell me where to sign.”

He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time.

“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back.

You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.

“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?”

You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?”

“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”

“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”

“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?”

“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right.

Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!

By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.

You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.

False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.

You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.

You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”

What the fuck did you just say?

Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”

When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.

There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.

This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.

“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”

“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”

“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”

His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander.

Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all.

“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.

Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.

You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”

“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.”

“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.

“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”

“No way.”

“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.”

“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.”

“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”

A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”

“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.”

You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”

Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?”

“Yeah, not too flashy.”

“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”

Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.

Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.

You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.

“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.

You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up.

When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.

Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”

Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–

Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”

“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.

Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–

“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you.

You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven.

You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room.

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.

“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck.

“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh.

“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.

Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?”

Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.”

“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.”

He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”

Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.

When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.

Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you.

“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat.

His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more.

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”

He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”

You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.

Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather.

“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already.

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”

You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same.

“Good girl.”

Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume.

“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.

“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling.

Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”

You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”

Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.”

Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.

Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours.

“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said.

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.”

Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger.

Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes.

“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”

You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs.

“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”

Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.

You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down.

“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”

“Eddie, we’re naked.”

“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”

“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it.

“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #roses*#eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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kajibunny · 4 months

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⊹ . ݁ ⟡ the kaji fanclub (ren kaji x reader) ft. kusumi ₊✩‧₊˚

✿ summary: you and kaji’s vice captain created your own fanclub, a kaji fanclub. kaji finds out about it, so long story short, he gives you his honest feedback. ✿ contains: fluffy crack (is that a thing), suggestive themes (only on bonus part), kaji is your boyfriend, teasing and nonstop praise for kaji (i could talk about this man all day watch me) ✿ a/n: my first wb fic!! kusumi would absolutely be the best wingman for you and kaji! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) i really like kusumi and his character design! he is so underrated but he's one of the cutest! ✿ wc: 1.2k

ren kaji knew that you had been up to something lately.

you and his vice captain kusumi have been busy giggling nonstop and checking your phones like a bunch of middle school girls, with you gushing and gasping about "how cute!" and "that's so perfect!" while looking down at your screen, showing only kusumi what was on it, receiving a reaffirming nod from the vice captain.

at first, kaji was fine with it and did not care at all. he found it nice that you got along so well with kusumi, but after an hour of you two still going at it and not paying full attention to him when he tried to tell you something, he swore he was about to throw a fit if you didn't quit it.

what kaji didn't know was that you and kusumi are the co-presidents of the "kaji club" on social media, where you post pictures of daily kaji updates.

at first, it was just because you found everything about your boyfriend so insufferably cute - his bowl haircut, his blond hair that he dyed all by himself, his unreadable expression, his never ending supply of lollipops, his iconic high kick, his sharp little canines (that sometimes you received little love bites from), his unpenetrable eardrums that were exposed to such loud music everyday, and much, much more.

you wanted to give the whole world a glimpse of that cuteness - but that goes without saying that only you got the full package to yourself.

so you thought about how funny it would be if he had his own fanclub. well, why not? if people loved him enough to vote him as their grade captain, then for sure he'd have lots of fans, right? and eventually, your idea turned into a reality.

kusumi would send you the pictures he took that day, and you would manage the fanclub account. this time it was of kaji jumping into the water to save a cat while on patrol (as well as him patrolling topless afterwards - needless to say that particular picture was saved in your phone in a heartbeat, but you never uploaded it, it was for you and only you, his lover, to see and appreciate.)

eventually, the kaji fanclub blew up to be an overnight sensation, mostly members of bofurin and the townspeople of makochi are among his biggest fans, but of course, you will always be ren kaji's number one fan.

"what the hell are you two laughing about?" kaji huffed in annoyance, trying to get a peek at your phone screen.

you smile sweetly at him, letting out a "hm?", acting all innocent and telling him it was nothing and that he shouldn't worry about it.

kaji, still having his suspicions that you were up to your shenanigans again, grabbed your phone from your hands and took a look at what you were so fixated with - it was a picture of kaji drinking from his bottled water with the caption "here is our super cool grade captain reminding everyone to always stay hydrated!~" then next it was a close up of kaji holding his lollipop. "today's lollipop flavor is peach! fun fact: it is also ren kaji's favorite fruit." it says.

oh. so that's what it was.

it was so random, that kaji couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards, almost smiling. he found it so unexpected and ridiculous but managed to keep a straight face.

"delete it." he cleared his throat, trying to fight back his amusement at the two of you coming up with something like this for him.

"no! give it back, ren! it's for our kaji fanclub! it already has more than a hundred likes, see! umemiya even commented-" you started, whining and pouting at your boyfriend, who rolled his eyes at you.

he hands you back your phone and sighs. "i don't need a hundred likes." kaji says, firmly. "because i already have the one like i need right here."

you gasped when you realized that kaji was referring to none other than you, his "one like" that he needed. kaji, upon becoming aware of how lovestruck he probably sounded, turned his back away from you and put his headphones back on.

you fangirled so hard at that moment, all giddy and smiling at your boyfriend, teasing him about how you were of course his number one fan and that you wanted to have his autograph.

kusumi was sitting across the both of you, and snapped a picture when you were rubbing your cheek against kaji's, him side-eye glancing at your overjoyed, smiling face. kaji is still so fond of you, even if you did silly things like this.

kusumi, beaming from ear to ear, shows the both of you the picture he took, and typed a message on his phone. it read: "you two are so cute, my favorite couple! <3 get a guy that looks at you with so much love the way kaji does! >///< #couplegoals" he adds "i really ship you two!"

you and kaji read the message on kusumi's notes app. when he finished reading, he let out an exasperated sigh. kaji points at you and kusumi. "i have no idea what a "ship" is, but right now i just want to ship you two off to somewhere far away."

he was kidding, of course. you knew that he would let you do what you wanted anyway, as long as he could see your lovely smile and how happy he made you, kaji wouldn't ask for nothing more. because plot twist, ren kaji is also your number one fan.

ꕤ bonus ꕤ

once you got home, kaji made sure to let you know his exact thoughts regarding your fanclub.

"tch. you don't need to have my face on your phone, you know. you can have the real thing right here." he leans in closer to you, pulling his lollipop out of his mouth and replacing it with your lips.

the next morning, after waking up from a long and eventful night with kaji, you expressed your shock upon gazing at yourself in the mirror and finding out you've been marked up by little purple bruises and love bites that left some of kaji's teeth marks littering everywhere, but most prominently on your neck, thighs and chest area.

"ren kaji! what the hell is this!" you exclaimed, waking him up with a jolt, you pointing at all the parts he left his marks on.

he stared at it for a second, admiring his handiwork. "you said you wanted to have my autograph."

"i didn't mean it like this!" you sighed, wondering how in the world you would be able to go out looking like this, all bitten and marked up by kaji.

"i can always sign it again for you if it fades. i'm all yours, after all." he said it with such a straight but smug face and he was so unapologetic about it that you wanted to smack him. or have him devour you again. or both.

you can't be the only one showing him your appreciation, because kaji has his ways of showing his too.

#wind breaker #kaji x reader #kaji ren x reader #kaji ren #wind breaker x reader #kaji #ren kaji #wind breaker (satoru nii)#nii satoru #windbreaker #wind breaker fluff #wind breaker fic #wind breaker x you #wind breaker scenarios #windbreaker crack #windbreaker imagines #ren kaji my babie <3

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kyo-moon · 3 months

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WINDBREAKER BOYS HEADCANONS IF THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU !

ft. sakura haruka, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, kaji ren

a/n: this is my first time writing headcanons and about wind breaker at all, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i did ! ☆ミ

✧ sakura haruka

oh boy. he either doesn't leave your side or is a mile away from you

would definitely protect you at any cost at any time. if you happen to be around during his patrols, he'd glance at you every three seconds to make sure you're okay

he takes his sweet time getting closer to you

suo and nirei would help him out about how he should approach you

once, he tried to ask you out on a date, but when you looked at him with those beautiful eyes, he stopped functioning and froze in the spot

if you two happen to walk together, he's more likely to walk one step behind to look out for the bad guys

suo, nirei, and you planned how to set you and sakura up several times. it failed every single time

sakura tried his best, yet he asked you to hang out with him... alone... but hey! it's not a date at all !!

kiryu even helped you pick up the outfits for your 'dates' (sakura called them normal hangouts)

he would try to compliment your outfit but ended up babbling nonsense because he got nervous

indeed, they were not normal hangouts

he didn't know the sidewalk rule at first until suo gently scolded him for that. after that, he did the sidewalk rule every single date

'so, when are you gonna ask me out of should i do it?' he stopped functioning once again

it was you, the one that asked him to be your boyfriend because he seemed too nervous to do it. not that you mind, but sometimes it was overwhelming

sakura said yes so quickly that it surprised you

✧ suo hayato

he's a gentleman

he always makes sure you're comfortable when you're with him or around his friends

he'd definitely ask you out after getting to know you better after a few hangouts with everyone

during the dates, he'd walk close to you but not enough to make you uncomfortable

he would give you small compliments yet so meaningful. 'you look beautiful today', 'that color really suits you', 'do you want to go somewhere in particular?'

sidewalk rule. obviously

most likely to accompany you back home from the first date

also, he always has a plan for your dates. in case you came with one idea, he would let you take the lead and leave it for the next one

would listen to everything you talk during the dates with a smile, especially if it's something that you're really into

after gaining your trust, he'd start grabbing your hand during the dates as you walk together

he asked to be his girlfriend after one date that he planned very carefully several days before, he bought you a small pair of earrings similar to his, if you happen to not wear earrings, then another piece of jewelry you like better

he presented you to his friends, even though you already knew them, but this time as his girlfriend as he just wanted to show you off

sakura freaked out when he saw you two entering the classroom holding hands

in public or in private, he's not that demonstrative, but he would do small things like putting his hand on your back to guide you, opening doors for you, placing a kiss on your forehead after a fight

✧ kiryu mitsuki

he's also a gentleman

he started flirting with you from the moment he laid his eyes on you

he went from small compliments like 'love your earrings, they're perfect for you', 'your haircut is as lovely as you, dear' to 'gimme that smile i love', 'would you let me take you on a date? i can't hold back anymore'

during the dates, would give your compliments about your outfits, hairstyles, earrings, everything

'that dress really suits you, dear', 'those earrings compliment your eyes', 'that hairstyle was made for you, i'm certain of it honey'

sidewalk rule. yes.

not only does he make you feel good around him but also with yourself

he would gift your hair clips he thought you'd like

after some dates, he asked you if, on the next one, you could wear matching outfits

if you haven't found one yet, he definitely helped you find your style. however, shopping dates are assured with him

he probably presented you to his friends before even dating as 'his future girlfriend'

he asked you to be his girlfriend during a night date with him out in town, where he gifted you matching accessories for your phones

✧ kaji ren

he probably questioned hiragi about what he should do after finding out he had a crush on you

following hiragi's advice, he tried to get to know you better before asking you out on a date

he didn't know how to act at first but eventually got comfortable around you and started to talk more

after some time, he found out you bought him peace, so he felt even more relaxed and drown to you

when he asked you on a date, he took his headphones off, showing you how serious he was about it

your dates were quiet, but so filled with good memories

higari had taught him about the sidewalk rule before your first date

he told you he preferred to go to quiet places rather than crowd ones, to which you openly accepted

after some dates, he offered you one of his lollipops

one time, a guy was staring too much in your direction, so he took off his headphones and put them around your neck to show the guy you were already taken

he wasn't scared to take off his headphones when you were around since he knew you would calm him down better than his music did

he will fight any guy that dared to say something disrespect about you. kaji won't tolerate that under any circumstances, trust me

higari was the first to meet you, then kusumi and enomoto

except for higari, they were surprised to see kaji with a girl since that boy said nothing to them. nothing at all

he asked you to be his girlfriend with a playlist during a chill hang out at his place

written by kyo-moon on tumblr. reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated ! ☆ミ

#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x you #wind breaker #sakura haruka #hayato suo #nirei akihiko #mitsuki kiryu #ren kaji #hajime umemiya #sakura haruka x reader #sakura haruka x you #suo hayato x reader #ren kaji x reader #mitsuki kiryu x reader #wind breaker headcanons #winbre #☆.kyo

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landograndprix · 4 months

Note

❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜

With lando?

idk why I'm so nervous to post my writing lol but bear with me, it's been years since I've actually, really written something, also, this is me whenever my guy gets a haircut || feel free to request something from this prompt list or something you want to see.♡

It wasn't a secret that the mop of curls on top of the Brit's head were one of your favorite things, lando found out the hard way when you claimed him to be a ‘different man’ and a ‘stranger’ the minute he walked back into the house and how you'd refused to talk to him for two days straight after the barber cut his curls a little too short.

And so he'd feared for his life and his relationship when he looked into the mirror earlier today– too short again but he thanked the barber nevertheless and with a heavy heart shuffled back to his car, aggressively ruffling his hair with both hands as he'd tried to fix his hair in the small rear view mirror.

Debating if he should send you a text to warn you in advance and risk coming home to every door being locked and with no way to enter his own house or not send a text at all and let you live through another ‘traumatic event’ as you had dramatically claimed it to be the first time.

you didn't say a word when he'd met you in the kitchen, not a comment made but the quick glance at the top of his head before going back to stirring the pasta sauce in the pot behind you was enough for lando to know you weren't pleased.

“I’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still.”

There it is.

Lando had felt your eyes burn into the side of his head all night– you finally cracked.

“It's too short.” the words fall from his lips in a whisper and from the corner of his eyes he can see the growing pout on your lips as every attempt at fixing his hair fails.

“Lando, you're basically bald.” you whine in defeat, making one last attempt to fix his curls.

“muppet, you're being a bit dramatic–” Lando chuckles but his sentence gets cut short by your scoff.

“No I'm not!” You cry out “I don't know who you are anymore!”

“Babe–”

“I might as well cut it myself!”

“Okay, let's not do that.” Lando snorts and reaches for your hands in his hair. You're getting too aggressive with sorting his hair out “I will actually end up bald.”

“yeah well, i'm not a barber, that's my excuse. What's his excuse? They should revoke his license.”

“I'll let him know it was too short next time.” Lando reassures and tries to calm you down by pressing a soft kiss on your temple but the huff that comes from deep within you tells him you're not done with this yet.

“No, I'll let him know because I'm coming with you next time and if he cuts it too short, I'll cut his balls off.”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando blurb

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sophsbookstore · 4 months

Text

Exchanged Glances

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 2 here

A/N: Not super edited, I wanted to get it posted before the Grand Prix!

Word count: 1,581

Normally when Charles goes back home to Monaco he has his mom cut his hair. Like clockwork he will arrive at his moms salon, say hello to the various hairdressers and then go to his moms station to get a fresh cut. Only, this time things were different.

A couple days before he was to arrive home Charles called his mom and asked what day she was free to cut his hair, with the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix it, and with it being his home race he was more available for a haircut than ever.

After their brief greetings to one another Charles’ mom told him that she would be out of town up until the day of the race. For the first time since joining formula one his mom wouldn't be able to cut his hair for him before the Monaco Grand prix.

“Don't worry Cha, I can refer you to another hairdresser at the salon.” She offered, trying to give him another solution.

“I don't know, you've always cut my hair, no one else.”

“Then this will be a perfect time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don't worry I know the perfect person, she’s new, around your age and she's magic in the salon.” Trusting his mom this easies Charles' nerves slightly.

“Ok maman.” The driver sighs in defeat.

“Wonderful! When you go to the salon ask for Y/N.'' With that his mom bid him farewell, telling him when to be at the salon, not going into any more detail about this mysterious hairdresser.

Before he knew it the day had come, he was going to step out of his comfort zone and have a complete stranger touch his hair. He hoped his mom wasn't lying when she was hyping up Y/N and her skills, he didn't want to go to the paddock looking a mess.

Charles enters the salon, all the employees giving him waves and greeting him. He's known some of these people his whole life, whenever he stepped foot in the salon it was like he was being greeted by family.

“Hello Charles, what can I help you with today?” The lady at the front desk asked.

"Hello, yes, my mom told me to ask for Y/N?” The boy shrugged in confusion.

“Oh of course! I'll go get her.” The lady that once sat in front of him was now off searching for the mysterious magic woman that was going to cut his hair.

Charles felt like he was waiting for hours, the salon wasn't that big was it? Maybe it was all in his head. He stood to the side of the waiting area, too consumed with stress to sit down and relax. Before he knew it the front desk lady came back, the woman he assumed to be Y/N trailing behind her.

This is when he finally got to have a good look at her. She was beautiful, why didn't his mom tell him that they started hiring part time models at the salon. The two stood awkwardly, both taking in one another, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Hello Charles, I’m Y/N. just follow me back to my station and we’ll get started”

Charles was too dumbfounded to respond, instead the man stuttered silently before nodding and following Y/N to the back of her salon. During the short walk to her station, Charles thought of questions to ask the beautiful girl, desperately wanting to hear the sound of her voice again.

“Thanks for trusting me with your hair today, your mom told me that you don't really let anyone else cut your hair.” She giggled.

“Oh! Yeah, she's been cutting mine and my brothers hair since we were kids.”

“That's so sweet. I understand where you're coming from I don't let anyone cut my hair, only myself.'' This put Charles at ease. Knowing that she thinks the same way he does, even about something so simple as hair.

After some comfortable small talk Y/N led Charles further back into the salon, sitting the boy down in a chair before leaning him back and washing his hair. The driver seemed to melt in her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.

When Y/N pulled her hands away to apply more product Charles felt incomplete, like he was missing a sense of stability and peace within himself. Just as soon as she removed her hands she placed them back, continuing to massage his scalp with the shampoo.

Y/N pats Charles’ shoulders signaling to him that the wash was done and that they had to make their way back to her station. Y/N led the way, Charles trailing behind the girl before taking his spot in front of her in the salon chair.

“Are you excited for the grand prix?” Y/N questions taking some of his hair between her fingers, beginning the cut

“Very. I have a good feeling and my son will be there, hopefully we secure P1 and P2.”

“You have a son? What's his name?” Y/N questions, his mom not mentioning anything about a grandson.

“Oh! My apologies he's not really my son. He's a driver on the grid that I've somewhat adopted for the race weekend so that he can claim the Monaco grand prix as his home race.” Charles looks at Y/N hoping she doesn't find what he said both weird and confusing.

“HA!” The hairdresser laughed out loud. “Well congrats to him, I hope he has a fun and successful home race as well. I'll be sure to congratulate your maman about her newly found grandson.”

Charles sat up a little higher in the chair, “Are you coming to the race?”

“I wish I could but I have to work, don't worry though, the salon will be playing the race so everyone can watch.” Y/N stopped cutting for a moment, looking at Charles through the mirror placed in front of them before giving him a warm smile.

Y/N picked up another section of his hair, continuing to snip away leaving Charles to examine the girl through the mirror. Y/N looked up from behind him, making a quick glance at him before the pair broke eye contact, looking separate ways.

Slowly their eyes started moving back to the mirror. The scissors snapping shut as the pair hold eye contact. Charles felt the tip of his ears getting hotter, the pair both noticing one another's subtle hints of red creeping onto their faces.

“Notice anything Mr. Leclerc?” Y/N questions, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

Charles opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out.

“Don't think I haven't noticed the subtle glances, there is either something on my face and you're trying to figure out how to tell me, or something going on in this head of yours.” She turns her attention back to his hair, the haircut almost over.

“I-” he clears his throat, “I was admiring you. You're very good at what you do.”

“I deeply appreciate Charles, truly.” Y/N made her final touches to the haircut. Unbuttoning the cloth that was draped over Charles, before dusting off his shoulders of any hair. “You're all finished, let me find a mirror so you can see the back.”

Y/N walked toward an unknown part of the salon, Charles' eyes following the girl through the mirror until she came back. This is it, if he doesn't say anything now he might never see her again.

The hairdresser came back, handing Charles a small hand held mirror for him to examine the back of his head. He admired her work, impressed with her skills. Placing the mirror down on a ledge near her station he got out of his chair and turned to her.

The two stared at one another, practically chest to chest. “Will you come to the grand prix?” He asked breathlessly.

“Nothing would delight me more but I have to work.” Y/N sighed looking away for a moment before her attention was pulled back to Charles.

“If you can't come to the race can you accompany me for dinner after?” Y/N looked at Charles, her cheeks getting ever so pinker.

“Mr. Leclerc are you asking me on a date?”

“That depends, would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes Charles, I would love to.”

Charles smiled from ear to ear, desperately wanting to bounce off the walls with excitement, stopping himself before he could embarrass himself. “Then I will see you tomorrow.” He nodded in satisfaction.

“See you tomorrow Charles.” Charles walked away from the hairdresser, giving her a quick glance back before making his way back to the lady at the front desk.

“Hair looks great! What did you think of Y/N?” She asked, ringing him up so he could make his payment.

“She's fantastic, I think maman will have some competition.” The two laughed, Charles paid, giving her a quick goodbye.

As soon as he exited the salon he called his mom, updating her on his post race plans, greatly thanking her for offering Y/N to cut his hair.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader

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octuscle · 2 months

Text

The car makes the man

James didn't actually want a car. Cars were the death of the planet. Cars were an expression of a cult of masculinity. Cars were time wasters. But the new job he had required a car. He couldn't cope with his deadlines without one. The new job paid well. The car was paid for twice and three times over thanks to the pay rise. And he only wanted something small and used. The car had to be reliable and use little or no fossil fuel. And above all, it had to be small. Finding a parking space in James' neighborhood was hell.

James had prepared himself. On his iPad, he had selected a number of possible offers. And now he was walking through the rows of used car dealers far outside the city, looking for the small cars he had liked on the internet. And then he saw his nightmare: the epitome of a used car dealer approaching him. A man almost 2 meters tall, corn-fed, toothpaste grin. And a handshake like a vice.

"Hi, I'm Honest Pete, how can I help you son?" James said looking around first, thank you very much! Pete said that wouldn't be a problem. Could he offer a coffee? James nodded and tried as hard as possible not to make eye contact with the pushy salesman. Pete disappeared, only to return shortly afterwards with a tin cup. James was surprised, he had expected an espresso cup. "You look like a guy who drinks his coffee strong, black and hot. Am I right?" James was actually more of an herbal tea drinker. But to be polite, he took the cup and took a sip. Shit! It was bloody strong! "So son, who's the car for? Your girlfriend? You won't have a daughter who can drive yet." Pete laughed boomingly. James smiled curiously and said that he needed a car for work. "I knew you were lost. Follow old Pete!" James actually wanted to protest. But my God, Pete was a professional. Maybe he should make a suggestion. "On a side note, son: I like your haircut! A good honest mullet is the only way a man can wear his hair long. Not that hipster man bun shit. Am I right?" Hehehe, thought James. Business in the front, party in the back. And he had a lot of partying in the back. Pete asked what his name was. James replied and Pete slapped him on the shoulder. "Jim, nice to meet you. I bet we're going to have a lot of fun today.“ Just as James was about to reply that it was "James" and not "Jim", Pete took a tin of chewing tobacco out of his pants, took a pinch and held it out to James. "Sorry, smoking's not allowed here. But maybe this will help you." Shit, Pete was a good judge of character. James's fingers and teeth were more than enough to recognize the smoker. James gratefully accepted a pinch. Good stuff!

James and Pete passed a row of sports cars. James looked not uninterested. But Pete recognized his look and waved it right off. "Son, this European shit is not for you. You'll only fit in these cars if you're anorexic. And you easily weigh 260 pounds, don't you?" The man was good, James thought to himself…. It might be closer to 280 pounds right now, he thought as he patted the beginnings of a beer belly. "Son, no shame! A man's belly has to jiggle when he laughs. Otherwise he's not a man." Pete laughed again and his belly jiggled. James joined in and his belly jiggled too. "Besides," Pete punched James' shoulders again. "I know the problem. Still a brick wall of a man in high school, but once you have to work…" "You said it, Pete!" replied James. "I mean, in high school days, I lived on the football field and in the gym formally. But now…" Pete said, not fishing for compliments here, Jim was still one of the big boys. It was all the more important to find the right car for him. James snorted out the chewing tobacco and took a sip of coffee. It was still hot, but now it didn't burn the roof of his mouth. Pete indicated that James had something on his mouth. Fuck yeah, dew tobacco liked to get stuck in his mighty full beard. He rubbed his beard and asked "better?". Pete nodded and asked Jim's shoe size. At least a 12, right? James replied a 12 in tuner shoes, more like a 13 in boots like now. "I thought so" Pete replied. "We need something with big pedals, don't we James?" "Mate, it's Jim, not James! And the pedals shouldn't be the only thing that's big about the car." "Sure, it should suit you, big boy! But I think we've got just the thing for you here! Perfect for work. You can fit all your tools in the back. And if you go hunting, you'll have room for a dog, a rifle and a deer."

Jim took off his trucker's cap and ran his fingers through his sweaty, greasy hair. 8,000 dollars was way over his limit. His heating business wasn't making that much money at the moment. Oil heaters weren't particularly popular at the moment. But the car was awesome: big, powerful and manly! He opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat. Damn, it was like coming home. Pete was an asshole. Of course he had hit his taste exactly. He liked the car so much that he got a hard-on in his old army pants. And it didn't get any smaller when he felt Pete's hand on the bulge in his pants.

Pete became Jim's best buddy. At first they only fucked so that Jim could get a good price for the pickup. But they became the best fuck and gym buddies you could imagine. The only thing Jim couldn't persuade Pete to do was a mullet. Honest Pete was just a miserable white-collar bourgeois. But he sucked Jim's cock like the devil!

Pics by @ki-kink (he has more stuff like that!)

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #redneck tf #white to blue collar tf #getting dumber #smart to dumb

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boughkeeping · 2 months

Text

Scary love

M. Kaiser x gn!reader oneshot

conc: It's his first time being loved like this, he doesn't know how to react so he hurt you, though he doesn't mean it.

Your love is scaring me no one has ever cared for me yeah

You held both his hands and crouched in front of him "You have to look at me Michael" instead he looks up after you say that, giving you a view of his neck instead. You sigh "You're so hard to deal with you know that?"

He tries to free his hand from your grasp but you only hold it tighter, if he really wanted to he could've easily separated his hands from yours.

"Don't bother me" he mutters, you could hear him clench his jaw. "I think you clearly want to be bothered right now"

He finally looks down to you. "Ooo...that's a really unpleasant expression you've got there"

He hisses "You're really increasing my blood pressure levels right now" you let go of one his hands and rested your face on that hand instead.

"Payback for all those months you pissed me off"

He kept quiet and looked away. You sighed again and got up this time, your hands forcing his face to look at you. "Should I slap you?"

"Hah?" He raised an eyebrow, "you're really not acting like yourself, did that Japanese triple bangs guy really get you this down in the dumps?" You squished his face, he almost bit your hand.

"Keep dreaming" he got up and threw his towel away "No way in hell"

You smiled and gave him a hard smack on the back "Now that's how Michael Kaiser acts"

He looked quite flustered, cute like a cat. "That fuckin' hurt y'know?"

"it should hurt." You picked up your bag and started to walk away "besides this is the last time we meet so really, I need to hit you hard."

Right. It hit him. He said he wanted you to leave him in a fit of anger frustrated by this sport a week ago.

Before he knew you had already left.

He wanted to chase after you, but his match would start in 20 minutes.

Fuck that.

He quickly left the room, he met Ness on the way "where are y-" he didn't even answer him he just ran in the speed of light.

You heard heavy footsteps and turned back to see who was so excited at this time, it was Kaiser. He grabbed your arm. "Clingy much?" You joked. "I am" you thought he was joking back but he wasn't. It was written in his face he wasn't.

"Doesn't your match start soon?" You were worried but he just pulled you closer to him "I meant none of it"

You were quite confused but not at the same time "meant none of what?"

He sighed "Don't play dumb [name]" You laughed but it wasn't a pleasant laugh. "Are you trying to explain yourself or apologize right now?"

"...both"

You tried to free your arm from his grasp "You don't look like it" instead he put his other hand on your shoulder "What do you want me to do?"

"I didn't come here to bid you farewell on a bitter note Kaiser please just go-" "Michael."

You grabbed your hair with your other hand "What do you really want now? You're not making this easy for me Michael"

"You're not making this easy for me either [name]"

He looked like he was going to explode.

"why the fuck did you have to come toda-"

"Oh so you hate me so much I shouldn't have come either? Okay then I'll grant you that wish from today you'll never see me ag-" He put his hand over your mouth, your faces closer.

"Why did you come today, I want you back again"

He released the hold he had on you and used his hands to hold your face gently instead. "and I always get what I want, you know that more than anyone."

You started to feel your eyes tickle "But I don't want you anymore, not with how you are."

He hummed listening to your complaints "What should I do then?"

Your hands automatically found their way to your face trying to hide your almost-gonna-cry expression but Kaiser aggressively removed your hand to hug you instead.

"I fucking hate you" your voice muffled in his chest "I deserve it" he hummed, "You're a cunt" "okay" "and your haircut is actually awful" "ouch?"

"Apologise-" He was ready "I'm sorry, you're the best journalist and your hobby-" he felt a jab in his stomach "I mean your profession is no joke, it's inferior compared to football"

"-with an eight hundred words essay" he slightly let go of the hug to take a look at you.

You raised an eyebrow "not doing it? Okay I'm leaving" he pulled you tighter "I'll do it after this match alright schatz?"

"Your match-" he kissed your hand "When I win this you come back to me"

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk ff #bllk angst #bllk x you #blue lock drabble #blue lock oneshot #kaiser x reader #Michael kaiser x reader #michael Kaiser oneshot #bllk oneshot

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arminsumi · 1 year

Text

it's the hair.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: lol this is just a dum fluff drabble i wrote instead of studying

SUMMARY — your childhood friend and classmate satoru positively kills you with his new haircut. but he misunderstands your reactions and behaviors, thinking he did something wrong.

WARNINGS — lowercase used, not proofread, misunderstandings between u n gojo, angst if you squint ??

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

you've been eyeing out gojo all day. he's not sure what to make of your expression — it's something mixed between comical worry and genuine distress.

"what? what is it?" he keeps asking you each time you give him the side eye look-over. "do i have something on my face?"

"no. it's nothing." you reply curtly.

he squints skeptically at you.

from class to class, he ponders alongside suguru. did he say something? were you mad at him? was it because he stole your soda from the vending machine yesterday? but he always does that, so why would you be mad now? maybe you were just not feeling well? did you not sleep well?

and suguru's ears flooded with all these theories.

"did i say something to y/n? she's acting strange today."

his best friend stifles a smirk. "dunno, did you?"

"i think she's mad at me. was it because i stole her soda? but y'know it's not my fault we like the same soda! and i promised to buy one for her next time!"

suguru now lowers his head into his arms, resting on the desk, trying so hard to keep his laughter in.

"maybe it's the weather — probably the flu — yeah, definitely the flu. i'll go get something for y/n at the store, d'you need anything, suguru? what! what are you laughing at!"

"nothing, nothing. i don't need anything from the store, thanks — unless maybe something spicy that catches your eye. 'better run quick, store's gonna close soon."

satoru furrows his brows in confusion, and eventually his entire expression becomes serious, like an old philosopher in deep thought about the universe. but it's not the abyssal void beyond the stratosphere that's in his thoughts, no, it's you — you're pervading his entire mind as he walks across the roads of tokyo, to the station, and boards the train.

holding onto the handles as it shudders and sways, shoulders taught as they always are when he's in thought. were you really sick? what if he did something bad? maybe it was nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. maybe it didn't even involve him. did it have to do with suguru? or perhaps you were upset about something in the past, something irrational and long-forgotten, like the fact that he didn't attend your 7th birthday party. it's not like he had a choice, his parents barely allowed him to visit your side because they didn't want their prodigy son hanging out with...

he texts you.

satoru — are u home yet

he stares and waits for you to come online, then watches as those three dots move up and down and you start typing.

you — no why

satoru — where are u

you — bridge

satoru — what are u doing

you — lol so many questions

you — the sunset looks rlly good today i'm taking pics

satoru — wtf without me??

you — lol sorry didn't think u wanted to waste ur time watching the sunset

satoru — see u there

he's just boarding off the train, coming through its doors, when he texts you that. thank the benefit of his long legs for speeding to the store in time before it closes. he picks up your favorite.

when you see him come into view, you're waiting with your arms draped around the railing of the bridge.

"trying out for the track team?" you laugh, as he practically runs up to you. "did you run this whole way?"

he's catching his breath, clutching a plastic bag of goodies.

"are you sick?" he asks.

"what? no?"

"i thought you might have the flu." he's asking with genuine concern, it's bizarre. he usually doesn't talk like this unless he knows he's in trouble with you, or if something's really wrong.

"i'm fine." you blink, "i've just been watching the sunset. you missed the best part."

"i didn't know you enjoyed sunsets."

"why didn't you invite me!" he groans, coming over to assume an oddly attractive position by the railing. he slacks against the metal, leaning his weight on it. he lets the plastic bag with yours and suguru's favorites in it thud to the ground.

the cityscape is so pretty, and yet he's still prettier, you think.

"i don't care for them." he admits, "but of course i'll enjoy a sunset if you're watching it with me."

you look at him. he's not even facing the sunset. was something on his mind? you can hardly theorize, because you're giving him that peculiar look again.

he catches you looking at him, "what!"

"what?"

"did i do something wrong?" his breath is stable now, "are you mad at me?"

"no? why d'you think I'm mad at you?" you ask confusedly.

"because you keep lookin' at me like that!"

"like what?" you feel your cheeks warm up.

"like something about me is offensive to your eyes."

you break out laughing. "no! i'm not — it's not — you misunderstand me, like always..."

"what the hell?" he whines, "is it nothing serious? i've been worried. you've been looking at me weird since sunday and — oh... OH MY GOD."

you giggle, chin pressing on the railing. "did you just realize something?"

"is it the haircut!"

"it's the haircut."

"why do you not like it!" he fumes, that familiar satoru playfulness coming back now as he was put at ease knowing he didn't upset you. "you know it cost a lot, 'n i styled it and everything."

"i didn't say i didn't like it! it's the opposite."

"so you like it? then why do you look at me like you're having an internal crisis?"

you groan, "because you're giving me a crisis! you know i'm weak for undercuts!"

he shuts up. his heart races a bit. oh, so he misunderstood you not a little bit but entirely. oops. now why didn't he realize that his haircut would have this effect on you? when he subconsciously went to get an undercut because you mentioned you liked them in passing one school afternoon.

"oh."

"you're so dumb, satoru."

"well sorry!" he rolls his eyes.

now there's silence. he stops leaning his back against the railing and turns to face the final stages of the sunset. the streetlights come on, one is gleaming not too far from you two. it casts a dreamy light on his hair.

it really is a good cut, and it's styled in such a way that... well it gets your daydreams going, let's just say that. and here gojo was worried when he came out of the salon, thinking it was too short now. truthfully, it was a bit short compared to his other haircuts, but he wore it well. of course he did.

"so you like it?"

"i love it."

"well if you love it, then show it love." he teases.

"what on earth d'you mean?" you laugh shortly.

"fluff my hair." he says.

"no way, lice-boy."

"hey!" he pinches your cheek in retaliation, and your reaction endears him as much as it always has since you two were kids. "that was one time, i haven't ever had lice again."

he pouts. you look over. he is pouting. pouting. he's a nineteen year old boy pouting about not getting his hair fluffed by his childhood friend who he maybe sorta kinda has a crush on.

and then he encourages you. he leans his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your cheek.

"damn. you're like an attention-starved cat." you joke.

he places your hand on his head himself. the brief warmth and glimpse at the size difference between his hand and your hand made him giddy.

you ruffle his hair lightly, and then he wears a satisfied smile. now early night has settled. it's quiet at the bridge except for the distant city sounds and lull of the highway.

"i was really worried that i did something wrong." he admits.

"i'm sorry."

he sighs, snuggling your shoulder. there's a nice silence between you and him.

then he breaks it.

"hey, i didn't say stop fluffing." his deep voice reverbs in your chest. he's playful and lively, but you can tell he's also tired from running all the way here.

"you're a menace." you tell him.

"but you like me, right?" it's more of an insecure question. he wants to hear you say it back, not as a playful joke.

"of course i do."

"good, good."

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ambermeh · 2 months

Text

Dealer!Chris headcannons

I was writing something for Matt and this was on my mind

⋆ So the relationship would have started with you probably getting drugs for your friends or even meeting at a party. The introduction of drugs would not really be necessary as, when you become a 'thing' (he doesn't want to give it a real label) I think being around him so much and just having them around you, you might be a bit curious. This would lead to him and you having many nights where you lay down together while he places the sweet powder over your gums. You just look at him wide eyes, as he places kisses to your neck while the two of you letting the feeling sink in

⋆ If you got into an argument (quite a lot), he would never shut you out but use the dealings as a way to make you jealous.

'oh yeah i'm dropping some off at Summer's party today so you don't need to come'

He states casually while waiting for your reaction, although he didn't realise that you had something even more frustration up your sleeve...

'yeah that's fine Chris, I'm going to get some weed from Harry tonight, haven't seen him in a while'

You smile at him, a little too sweetly while he clenches his jaw and gives you a tight lipped smile. (and proceeds to make the both of you stay home that night)

⋆ He would never admit it. but he does actually really like you and shows you in some quite unconventional ways. A discount on some pills, or even to come over and smoke some weed with you. Only the best for his girl. Brings you to parties to give you some more fun and excitement that the mundane day to day does not bring. Hits you up (or just calls begging for you to come over) late at night when he feels maybe a bit too alone for his own liking.

⋆ Pays for everything.

Nails, haircut, perfume, clothes. Basically lets you get whatever you want if you do something for him in return (he always jokes but really is it a joke)

'ma, you are not buying that, let me get it'

'you don't need to pay me back with money...... kidding'

later that night 'I want to see how that dress looks like under me when your writhing and crying'

⋆ this man fucks like he hates you. Not even kidding, I think Chris normally would be a bit rougher than average but dealer chris is another level. He loves the high and this does not only relate to drugs, but also the way he teases you and the words he says to make you whine. Teasing you with his tip as you beg for him to put it in you. Pushing your hips back, yearning for the release.

'my god, all that attitude but now you can't even get what you want poor girl'

'stop pushing back and be patient or I'll overstimulate you until you can't move let alone speak'

and the after care would be sweet but still in true dealer chris fashion

'my girl looks so good fucked out'

'can I take a photo, just to remind you what happens when you try to threaten me with other guys?'

'Sweetheart, you have some mascara running come here and i'll help. okay?'

hope you all liked it :)

(thanks @enchanthings for the banner)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader

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ohmyrashi · 2 months

Text

story time!! 💛

so today i had a plan to get a haircut at 12:30 and then meet someone at a department store at 3:00. the haircut only took about 20 mins so i was left with almost two hours to kill.

used the bathroom in the hair salon, then went to a nearby restaurant to grab lunch. ordered a diet coke and ended up finishing it pretty quick bc it was rly hot out today and i was thirsty from the walk. waitress brought me a refill without even asking and i ended up finishing that too.

still had like half an hour to kill, ended up going to a cafe to read my book. ordered a 16 oz iced tea, finished about half of it and took the rest with me to the car when it was time to head out. and, i cannot emphasize enough, i WENT TO THE BATHROOM at the cafe before i left!! i'm no fool!! i've been an omo lover long enough to know what two sodas and an iced tea were gonna do to my bladder!! but i wasn't planning on holding or anything so i figured i'd be safe and go like a responsible adult!!

except i think that the bulk of the liquid hadn't hit me yet, or maybe my bladder is still sensitive from the other night, because almost as soon as i got in my car, i was needing to pee again.

and y'all. it got SO bad so ridiculously fast. and it was a 30 minute drive 😭

by like 7 minutes in my bladder was achingly full, and the pressure just kept getting more and more acute until i was shifting around and making little noises of discomfort in my throat at red lights. the whole drive was through residential neighborhoods and on the highway, nowhere convenient to stop. and anyways, it was a short enough drive that i would have felt silly stopping on the way. but it was getting hard to think about anything than how swollen and heavy my bladder felt in my abdomen and how much i wanted to empty it. (for the record, i was still able to drive safely, if it was so bad that i couldn't i would have pulled over. don't distracted drive for any reason kids)

ofc this was all also super fucking hot, bc as much fun as getting desperate on purpose is there's really nothing like when it happens organically, and in a situation where you can't relieve yourself.

made it to the store, parked in the parking lot, speed walked inside. now as i mentioned, this is a department store, which means it is huge and has multiple levels. looked around and didn't see signs for a bathroom anywhere. bladder absolutely bursting.

looked frantically for an associate, finally spotted one folding clothes, hurried over and asked politely where the bathroom was. next floor, in the far corner. so far away. help

found the escalator, walked up it, started looking around for the bathroom, no sign of it anywhere!! i felt like i was having a pee dream, stuck searching through this huge store for a toilet with my bladder about to explode!

found ANOTHER associate, asked AGAIN where the bathroom was, and i think there was a certain tone in my voice/look on my face/tension in my posture cause she started giving me directions and then was just like "--you know what, i'll walk you there" 😳🙈

FINALLY made it to a stall, didn't bother locking the door, danced and gasped while i got my shorts down, and thundered Niagara Falls out into the toilet 😩🥰😮‍💨

#omorashi

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olsenmyolsen · 10 days

Note

Hey!!! So im finally gonna send a request from that prompt list lol.

May i please request. absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

I dont mind either elizabeth or wanda, but can I ask that yn has a buzz cut on her sides back back of her head. And as she just had it redone yn makes a comment about her feeling like a sheared sheep lol

Just got my hair redone and I always say that after touching the back. I just wish I had someone who would stroke my hair also;_; id melt if wanda/elizabeth did.

If that's not too much trouble ;_; please and thank you

A Sheared Sheep

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

No Powers AU - (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You got a haircut without telling your girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff.

Word Count: 1.3K

Content: Girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, Meet-Cute, Baking, Haircuts, Fluff

You had met Wanda Maximoff only a few months prior. It was a classic meet-cute moment.

A lapse in thinking had led your iced latte to go from your hand to her shirt. An exchange of apologies, small talk, quick glances, some light flirting, and a dinner to make up for it all led to the two of you dating.

It's been bliss and wonderful. You two have only grown stronger and more comfortable. Sharing details about your lives and what you want for the future.

Wanda was very upfront in talking about kids, and she said she didn't care how it happened but that this was something she wanted. That made you feel better when you pointed out through some laughter that you didn't have the parts to help her in the department.

Wanda shook her head and hugged you tightly before running her fingers through your long hair.

An action that always made you smile.

And yeah, sure, talking about kids a few months into a relationship might seem forward, but within the last year, Wanda had recently called it off with her fiancé. Plus, she was older than you. Not significantly, but enough to where you needed another hand to count the years separating you two.

Anyways, like I was saying.

What you and Wanda have is clearly special. And you know she loves you for you. Not a whole lot could change that as of right now.

Well, that's what you keep telling yourself as you close your eyes in the hairdresser's chair. "We really don't have to do it Y/n." Your favorite hairdresser and good friend Natasha pointed out for the hundredth time.

You see, every once in a while, once your hair grows past the point of driving you crazy, you usually just buzz it. Well, at least most of it. Normally, Natasha styles it or just trims one side. Today, the two of you were talking about buzzing the sides and back of your head, but then Wanda popped into your mind and stopped everything.

No, she didn't telepathically communicate with you. As cool as that sounds.

No, the thought of her popped into your mind.

She has only ever known you with your long hair. Would she even like you if you didn't look like... like you?

You shook your head and told yourself that, of course, she would still like you. Hell, she loves you!

Thus, the thought cycle repeats.

"Y/n, why don't you just tell her you want to get it done?" Natasha asks as she watches you look over yourself in the mirror. "Because I want it to be a surprise." You answer back with conviction. "Okay, so then why aren't we doing it?" Natasha asks another question, making you close your mouth.

You sigh.

And after a few moments, you tell Natasha to start cutting.

As your hair fell to the tile floor, your stomach began doing flips and tangling itself up, waiting to be in front of Wanda.

"Wanda?" You called out into her condo as you closed the front door behind you. "I'm in the kitchen!" Wanda yelled. You smiled at her voice and kicked off your shoes by the front door before making your way through her space.

It was just as soft and cozy as she was.

The smell of cinnamon and apple pie filled your nose as you walked closer and closer to her green-tiled kitchen. That backsplash was the first thing she did to make this place her own.

You loved the color.

"Smells amazing!" You said as you appeared around the corner of the kitchen as Wanda pulled out a second pie and set it on a stand to cool.

Wanda briefly glanced your way with a big smile. "Thank you!" She turned back and turned off the oven as she started moving around to put some dirty dishes into the sink. "I made two pies. One for us and the other for Agatha. I think she and Ralph are having some trouble, so I thought I would bake her a pie, too." You leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen with a warm smile, watching as your girlfriend.

She really was beautiful inside and out.

"It took me forever to find the specific brand of apples I wanted. You know, I didn't want it to be too sweet or sour, and then-" Wanda shook her head after wiping her counter down. She let go of the rag and chuckled. "Sorry." She glanced towards you again.

Still not noticing the WestView Witches baseball cap you're wearing to cover up your haircut.

"I'm rambling." Wanda brushes her apron and quickly unties it before fast walking to you with a spring in her step. She quickly kisses your lips and pulls away as she hangs up the apron. "How was your day?!" She looks towards you, and then that's when you see her notice in her eyes. Her mouth goes from a smile to a shocked look. She takes a step back and looks over your face before she reaches out and gently takes your chin, moving your face from side to side. "Y/n- I- when-" She can't form a sentence as she lifts her hand to the baseball cap. "Can I?" She asks after a beat.

You nod, afraid saying anything will spook her.

Slowly, Wanda grabs the end of the cap and lifts it off your head. You hear her breath hitch as she looks over your very short hair. Her fingers slowly run through your hair before she brings them down along the backside of your skull, where the buzz is prominent, making you shiver slightly at the contact of her nails brushing you.

Wanda notices as her eyes move to meet yours. "Does that hurt?" She asks carefully. You laugh through your nose and shake your head. "It feels good. Really great, actually." You say in the same tone as her. Wanda nods, glad that she isn't hurting you.

She brings her hand back up and runs through it again with more pressure. "How does that feel?" Wanda asks.

"Good. Touching the back is the best part." You say before making a joke. "I feel like sheared sheep." Wanda can't help but smile and laugh quietly before she removes her hand and brings it down to yours. Holding you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." You say, looking to Wanda, who looks to you, waiting for more. "It's just something I've always done. Do you hate it?" You then question, and just as quick as you ask, Wanda shakes her head, giving you an answer. "I don't hate it. I just wish I would've known." She squeezes your hand.

You nod.

After a few seconds, Wanda grips your hand. "How about while we let the pies cool, we can go sit and relax," Wanda says, making you nod and following her to the living room, sitting next to her on the couch in your usual spots.

Wanda flips through some channels before coming across a marathon of her favorite sitcom.

The two of you relax and cuddle into one another. Letting the surprise of your haircut fall into the back of everyone's mind.

After an episode of the show, you feel Wanda's hand move from scratching your back to up your neck and through the back of your head, stroking your buzz. You smile and let out a satisfied sigh that makes Wanda look over at you with her own smile. "I like it." She states making you feel warm and happy with your choice.

You turn to her. "I'm glad." Wanda leans into you and kisses you as her fingers scratch your head. "My little sheep." She jokes as you two part, making you roll your eyes. Playfully.

All in all, that joke wasn't as bad as when you brought Agatha her pie, and she turned to Wanda and said: "So how many Y/n's do you have to count in your sleep to you fall asleep?"

dividers by @/benkeibear

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