#he didn’t just roll the dice he rolled and won the game

[melonn-soda]

❝ PERSONAL STREAM (A Little Too Personal..) ❞

word count: 1.9k

warnings: subbot! cis male reader, domtop! cis male kamo choso, camboy! choso, slight dumbification?, praise kink, reader referred to as a size queen (term is used for a man), mention of edging (choso), mentions/descriptions of manhandling

prompt: congratulations! you just won a solo fan call with your favorite camboy! hope you have fun watching him getting off to you being just the goodest boy ever :)

notes: a gift for and and idea from @sooniebby I jus made it into a choso fic. I've been holding it off for a while now, I think. this isn't as good as had wanted it to be but it's fine regardless. not beta read, sorry not sorry

fem aligned dni

you can’t believe it.

you actually can’t believe what you’re reading right now.

in your email inbox, something you barely ever check unless needed to, had a message from the user of a porn website (not your proudest moment) that you signed up on just to watch his videos, telling you that you won this month’s drawing. you had to stand up, walk around, eat breakfast, and come back to your computer to see if it was still there. if it was still real. you swore you’ve never felt so excited yet so scared in your life.

to know that, somehow, you won that solo fan call, to know that he’ll be jerking off for you, to know that no one else can see him but you, talking to you, and- shit. you were getting hard. you looked back at your computer screen. the email is still there. you’re not crazy. you feel like you are though.

the roll of the cheap gaming chair you bought from amazon sounded muffled in your ears as you backed away from your computer, getting up to get ready for the day with that email still lingering like an itch on your scalp that you can’t seem to satisfy. you need to get to work.

your co-workers noticed the blank stare in your eyes as you slipped on your chef coat and pants, hands on autopilot as you tucked hair into your hat and tied the apron around your waist. it smelled of fresh detergent since they just washed your uniform. your friend had to even point out that you cut your finger when dicing onions because you were too out of it to even notice. or was it that working in the food industry made your fingers numb to the sensation since it happens so many times? ... huh.

when you got back home, you opened up the email again. it’s still there. it’s still real. did you want it to be fake? part of you says yes but the majority of you hoped not. i mean, you’ve been following this guy for.. what, months now? lord knows how much money you’ve sent to him. he wants to start the call at 7pm on discord.

you thought he might use something else other than that app but he was probably just using an alternative account and he most likely changes his user after every raffle. if you were him, you would do the same thing.

...

you should probably take a shower.

it was 6:40 and your hair was still damp with water, towel resting on your shoulders to catch any stray droplets from getting your shirt wet. you kind of wanted to back out. the fear of being one to one with the camboy you’ve been fantasizing about for a long while now was scaring you a bit.

fingers fidgeting with the paper stars littering your desk and your foot rapidly tapping against the floor, you watched the seconds go by on your desktop. your dominant hand reaches for your mouse and highlights his username to copy it and paste it onto the add user section, sending the friend request to see that he accepts it not even 2 minutes later. ...was he getting ready?

your webcam was sitting on your desk, not properly hooked onto the top of your computer. it was plugged in but you hardly ever use it so it just sits where it is. should you set it up? ..no, you didn’t feel like it. your mic was completely ready though, as always. you and your friends would always play together on call, so it was your most used piece of equipment.

4 minutes.

your stomach twisted in anxiety.

choso sighed as he applied lotion all over his torso, all too used to the way he prepared everything during streams and bonus videos locked behind an even bigger paywall. this sidegig he was doing felt like a chore sometimes but money was money, and by god did this account make him a lot of it.

lots of women flocked to his account, entranced by the way his voice stuttered whenever he close, his hips that instinctively jerked because his hand wasn’t able to move any faster, and the whimpers that teared into the mic when he came all over his hands and milked himself for all that he’s worth. they mostly talked about how perfect his dick looked but that was an average comment in his chat.

he saw the friend request notification pop up on his computer and figured he’d at least get his cock hard before the call even started. he put on some random porno in the background, stroking himself with little care and when he got half-hard, he figured that would’ve been enough. he accepted the friend request and close the tab with the video playing, looking over to see that he had 4 minutes until he would start the call.

fingers moving expertisley across the keyboard, he made sure to tell you that the first 30 minutes of this session was free, any longer and you would have to start paying up. you replied with a very short, “got it.” and left it at that. you seemed to type out something more before it quickly went away, causing choso to raise an eyebrow. were you scared?

35 seconds.

choso was getting tired of waiting, so he began the call. unbeknownst to him, you freaked out when you heard the ringtone rumble through your speakers, hesitating to accept the call. in the end, you did anyway because you didn’t have to pay for this private session for 30 whole minutes.

the half-curse’s hand went back to his dick, stroking it with barely any passion behind his movements. however, he wasn’t expecting to see the face of the winner from the drawing within 5 minutes of the call, teeth biting into his fist as his other hand’s fingers worked himself open. choso swore he was no longer half-hard, dick twitching to life in his hands, pre already leaking from the tip of his cock.

he was used to mostly knowing that women were behind the screen and heavily suspected that you might’ve been one- but fuck, to know that another man was getting off to his voice, his cock, drove him wild.

maybe he’ll get rid of that 30 minute rule.

you didn’t mean to turn your webcam on.

you could feel your stomach sink when you could see yourself on full display for the camboy in the discord call. it was too late to turn it off now. whatever. you only live once.

“aren’t you just the cutest?” you aren’t sure why you flinched but the way his voice carried those words certainly got you feeling things, “how about you turn your mic on too, yeah? wanna hear your pretty voice.”

shakily, the hand you were biting on reaches for your mouse and you click unmute. your fingers that were inside you accidentally pressed against your prostate, causing a loud moan to fall from your lips, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. you don’t want to get a noise complaint from the neighbors... again. the first time having to explain that to an officer was embarrassing enough.

“good boy,” he grunts into the mic, bucking his hips up with a loud smack coming from his end of the call, “jus’ the sweetest little thing, aren’t ya? betcha’d be just absolutely adorable if i were to fuck you stupid. it hasn’t even been 15 minutes and you’re drooling all over your pretty fingers.”

you didn’t even notice that you’ve been panting so much that spit began to run down your chin, too absorbed in the way the camboy’s dick spilled even more pre over his massive hands. fuck, just how strong could he be? could he manhandle you? yank your head back using your hair as a handle while blowing your back out? shove you down on his cock because you simply weren’t riding him fast enough?

“you got a dildo on you, baby?” he asks you, his hand slowing down to a stop. his words pulled you out of your abundance of fantasies to shift your focus back into reality, vision a little blurry from the tears resting on your eyelids.

you managed to fumble out a small, “mhmm..” just loud enough for him to hear and he tells you to grab it. in a slight daze, you reach into one of your many desk drawers to pull out the toy that sat in its box, already cleaned from its prior use.

“do a favor for me, yeah? put it in nice and slow, imagine it’s my cock stuffing you full. how big ‘s your toy? five- six inches?” he sure likes to ask a lot of stuff, you notice.

“‘s seven..” you mutter, wincing when you push the toy inside your hole, stretching you full and your mind goes numb.

he chuckles, deep and breathy and shit- “so you’re a size queen? that’s what they call it, right?” he starts pumping his fist around his cock again, albeit slower than before. you would take a bet that he was edging himself, “that’s it. such a good boy f’me.”

legs quaking in place, you managed to get it all inside you. sitting on it was much harder on your chair than you anticipated, the current position you were holding getting uncomfortable. cautiously, you lifted your hips, wrapping your hand around your own dick and giving it a few strokes while breathy moans left your lips, slamming yourself back down on the dildo. your eyes widened in surprise as the tip of it pressed against your prostate, a loud whimper echoing throughout your room.

“fuck-! you’re so cute, mmph- k-keep going, baby. i’m getting close- ah!” you could see that his hand was moving much faster than when you last looked up at your camera, quick breaths and filthy pleas paired with the desperate thrusts of his hips.

 stumbled cries left your lips when you began to keep up with his pace, fingers getting sticky with pre as you continue to stimulate yourself. through blurred tears, you could see his hips rut one last time before a stifled moan left his throat and his fist was coated with his cum, dripping onto his pants.

he winces at the overstimulation from just shifting his hand to let go of his softening cock, grabbing a tissue to clean himself up while watching you bounce up and down your toy. you could even say he was jealous. even so, he could tell you were pathetically chasing your own orgasm, breathy sighs escaping from the confines of your lips. eyes closed in slight shame yet concentration, your thumb came up to the tip of your dick and rubbed, causing a yelp to slip through and your eyes opened once more.

however, you weren’t expecting to see the gorgeous face behind the creator of all those inappropriate streams you’ve watched the second your hips slammed back down on the dildo. 

“[name]..”

ropes of your own release spilling out of your dick, it finally registered in your head that the camboy was willingly letting you see this. your thighs quaked not only in nervousness but also in fear that you might get a boner again just from how handsome he was. his face was pale although dusted with a bright hue of red covering his cheeks, eyebags signaling a lack of sleep, he had some sort of black line going over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and slightly messy black hair tied up into short ponytails. if he wasn't attractive to anyone, he was at least attractive to you.

his pretty and slightly plump lips opened to speak once more, “do you.. wanna meet up in person..?”

“h-huh...?”

#x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #top male character #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #choso x reader #choso x male reader #jjk choso x reader #jjk choso x male reader #gay #mlm #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[number1jeonginstan]

Heyyy!!! I just wanted to ask if u could write this very interesting idea of mine. Chan making you roll a dice and what number you roll, is the amount of thrust you take. But you keep calling him daddy and he can't hold back anymore so he starts pounding u like a pup in the heat. NO PRESSURE totally fine if you don't feel comfortable writing this. But just thoughts. Have a nice day/night!💗

A/N: YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW EXCITED I WAS TO WRITE THIS. Like I wanted to write it as soon as I got this, but I got really sick so writing has been on the back burner, but I hope I did your ask justice with my writing. ALSO, my mentions are still open y'all so....

wc: 1.2k (not enough in my opinion 😔)

warnings: 18+ only, minors do not interact, unprotected sex, afab!reader, reader is called slut, daddy kink (obvi), some fluff as well because I love fluff

It was the first day Chan had off in ages. It was the afternoon and you were snuggled up on his bed, laying on top of him, head on his chest watching a movie. “All I’m saying is Andrew Garfield is hot.” You said with a shrug, eating another piece of popcorn. Chan was above you rolling his eyes. 

“You think everyone is hot,” he said stealing a sip of your drink. You lift your head from his chest looking up at him, “You can’t possibly deny it, look at him.” 

“I never thought you had a thing for skinny white guys, maybe I should stop going to the gym?” before he could tease you even more you quickly shouted out a “No!” 

“If you stop going to the gym, it better be for yourself, you know I love you no matter what,” you said giving him a big hug. He kissed your forehead as you both fell back into a comfortable silence.

An hour had passed and you both finally finished the movie. You got up from the bed, stretching your body since you were both lying down on the bed. Chan was still on the bed, stretched out like a starfish. “What should we do next? Do you want to play a board game?” you asked trying to put all the dishes you guys ate from earlier away. 

“Yeah we can do that, I think it would be fun,” you said whilst pulling out Monopoly from the stack of board games you both had accumulated over the last two years of Friday game nights with the rest of the members. 

“If you get park place again, I will never talk to you again.” 

“Chan stop being such a baby,” you said while rolling your eyes. “You love it though,” he said whilst pouting, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

You both finally got into the groove of playing the game, giggling at each other throughout it. “Hey! You are cheating, you can’t steal money from the bank.” Chan said swatting your hand away from the pile of money lying on his bed. “Oh come on,” you groaned, “I purposely gave you Park Place this time.”

“What! I won that place fair and square.” he looked at you with a confused face. “You keep telling yourself that Channie,” you said patting his cheek. 

“Oh, you wanna play that game?” he said while dragging you on top of his lap messing up the game along the way. “I was about to win” you whined. “Were you, were you really?” he said while kissing your lips. 

“Yes!” you said while kissing him back. “If you want to play a game, I have a great one for us to play,” he said with his signature smirk. “Mhm, and what would that be?” 

“We still have this die,” he said while rolling it in his hands, “let’s have some fun with it.”

“What do you have in mind” you asked looking up to him, still on his lap. “Why don’t we play a game? You roll the dice two times, and I multiply whatever it is.”

“Okay?” you asked a bit confused. “Sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish. Whatever that number is, is the number of times I’ll thrust into you.”  He said with a coy smile, “Don’t you think that will be fun baby?” 

You hesitantly agreed, thinking that, with luck by your side, you would roll all 5’s and 6’s, but you were so wrong. 

“Please Channie, I just need you to fuck me” you pleaded. You were underneath him, his cock rutting in and out of you to whatever you rolled the dice to. “Please, I need you in me,” you whined. 

“But I’m already in you unless you want me to stop?” he said while slowly slipping out of you. “Wait!” you stopped him and he stilled in you. You quickly rolled the dice twice, not wanting him to stop. “You rolled three twice, so that means 9 thrusts doesn’t it? Should we make the best of it sweetheart?” he said whilst rubbing your clit. 

You just nodded, wanting to feel him inside of you. He slowly thrust inside of you, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock, every vein as your pussy clenched around him. “You are such a good girl, taking my cock so well.”

His words made you clench around him, moaning at the way he was hitting so deep inside of you. You could cum with just his cock inside of you, the stretch being so big that he had to always prep you so well, just to take it. But him fucking you so sensually and slowly was getting you nowhere. 

“I need more” you moaned, feeling him particularly deep inside of you. “Awe, is my cock not enough? Do you need to get fucked like a slut? I don’t think I can do that baby, you gotta take it like a good girl. Maybe roll higher next time and I can fuck you faster.” 

It was torture and he knew it, you were squirming underneath him. “Roll again,” he said while kissing your forehead and you did “6 and 6 this time sweetheart, guess I’m going a bit faster.” 

He began pounding into you and you couldn’t control yourself “Fuck daddy, it feels so good.” You didn’t mean to say that, you had never called him daddy before and you had no idea how he would react, before you could even apologize, he began pounding into you.

“Fuck baby, you like that? Do you need daddy to fuck you til you forget your own name?” you just moaned, he was fucking you so good your tongue was loling out to the side. “Come on baby, answer daddy. Do you like my cock fucking into you like the little slut you are?” 

“Yes daddy, so good daddy, I’m gonna cum” you said as he began circling your clit simultaneously. You couldn’t control yourself, he was pounding into you so well 

“Fuck baby, be a good girl and cum for me, cum on daddy’s cock okay. You can do that for daddy right baby?” you just nodded, your walls squeezing him tighter as he started thrusting inside of you harder. “Will be a good girl for daddy, gonna cum on his cock” you hiccuped as you finally felt that strand in your stomach snap. 

You were cumming all over his cock as he continued to rut inside of you. “Where do you want me to cum baby? Where do you want daddy to cum?” 

“Inside of me please” you whimpered and he started pounding into you. “Fuck want daddy’s cum don’t you baby? Want daddy to fill you up.” 

“Fuck” he groaned as he stilled inside of you painting your walls with his hot cum. He laid next to you, still inside. “Where did the daddy come from baby?” he asked kissing your forehead. “I have no idea, but I’m glad I did because I think that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you said with a giggle.

#skz #stray kids #skz smut #skz x reader #straykids x reader #straykids smut #bangchan #ju <3 answers #ju<3writes #bangchan smut #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #chan skz #ju <3 writes

[inklore]

down on luck.

premise: you win a bet that eddie is more than happy to lose.

pairing: eddie munson x (f)reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: eighteen+ content, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, illusions to sex, barest amount of dirty talk.

etc: just a disclaimer i only know the bare minimum of d&d therefore there’s the bare minimum of mentioning of it in here, which means if i got the verbiage wrong pretend you didn’t see it ok thanks lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

His hair is always softer than it looks; like strands of silk running through your fingers, tickling the insides of your thighs, falling around you when his body is pressed to yours, even when it’s sweat slicked and stuck to his forehead. His hair was perfect, even with a lackluster shampooing routine. It had been one of the first things you had noticed about him, his hair. The second was how perfect his smile was. A grin so contagious that even if what was coming out of those sweetly spread lips was foolery or theaterics. He had the perfect sense of tone. The countless times you had seen him perform with his band, or watched him strum his guitar at the end of his bed mindlessly, proving so.

You know you could fill a whole notepad with all of the perfections you thought he had. To some they’d seem like moot examples, only added to the list due to your deep affections for the outcast. But it wouldn’t make them any less true. Eddie was more than the surface leveled nerdy reject the town had labeled him as.

If your mind wasn’t completely fuddled right now, your brain trying to remind you to breathe, to slow the movements of your hips, to savor what you’ve earned; comprehension would be there. But lust and anatomy—and the silk of Eddie’s hair between your fingers as you pull it softly, his lips wrapped around your clit as his fingers pressed up inside of you, the cool feel of his rings on your wet folds a welcome relief from the heat that’s burning you from the outside in.

If comprehension was there: this, the way he’s fucking you with his fingers and his tongue rolling along your clit in that perfect pattern, would be at the top of his list of perfections.

You can feel the stabbing of a game piece digging into the back of your skull as it presses onto the table, your head thrown back, a string of moans spewing from your lungs to fill the air. You hadn’t expected the night to play out like this. Had more than expected the roles to be reversed. Having rarely earned bragging rights to winning any of the cheeky bets the two of you would place against each other—tonight’s being: the loser of the campaign gives the winner head. A bet you were fully ready, and happily, willing to lose. Expecting to have grooves from the hard floor lingering on the skin of your knees for the rest of the night, as you swallowed Eddie's cock.

You didn’t need an excuse to smile around his girth as you watched him wither and beg to come in your mouth. So losing would have been just as pleasing as a win. But when the dice had been rolled and you had won, the slow up turn of a smirk on his lips, and the rush to get the guys to leave faster than normal; all but throwing you onto your back on the table, hooking his arms around your thighs to pull your ass forward so it hung off of the edge, his knees already bending to meet the floor to pull your panties to the side and move his head between your legs—your surprise at your victory settling in at the same time his tongue lapped over your folds.

Losing was more your forte, but with how good Eddie’s mouth felt right now, with the small vibrations against your clit each time your back bowed and a curse fell from your lips as you pulled his hair; you’re thanking whatever D&D gods were on your side tonight.

It’s almost suspicious how easily you had won. How there was no banter, no teasing, no playful showmanship of being a poor sport that usually came with him losing, or winning. There had been little surprise on his face when the die landed in your favor, the other boys hooting and hollering; and he was uncharacteristicly silent.

Licking your lips, pulling your head from the table—and away from the game piece shockingly not imbedded into your skull—you try to keep your eyes open, try to look down at him, try to gear yourself up to form words, to speak, to ignore his tongue and fingers for one damn second so you can comprehend a single action that wasn’t rolling your hips into his mouth.

"Did you lose on purpose?"

There’s a loud sucking noise that fills the air as he pulls off of your clit and a smile spreads across his wet lips, his eyes meeting yours. "Me? Cheat?” He makes a face, one that reads I'm appalled you would even ask such a thing. But there’s amusement in it—and he’s still fingering you, still has two fingers fucking into you, the sounds of the wet squelch of your pussy around them enough to make your cheeks burn and your lids waver to stay open. “What a scandalous accusation,” he teases. You would believe him, as serious as he takes this game, his campaigns, but there’s a glint of mischief in his eye. Something that’s telling you his words are anything but the truth.

And with his eyes still upturned towards you his tongue dips in between your wetness, runs the flat of it from your opening to your clit. Your wetness gathering on his taste buds, coating them in such a filthy way that it has your legs shaking. “It would be unjust of me to rig the game in your favor, all so I could have an excuse to eat this pretty pussy and have you coming on my tongue.” He presses a soft kiss to your mound, “doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

“Eddie, you–“ a gasp replaces your argument. The scold dies in your lungs and is quickly forgotten when the wet heat of his swollen lips wrap around your clit once more. The suction singes your nerve endings, your lower belly burning, sinking sinking sinking until that nipping feeling of being close to coming is at your heels. The back of your head finding the table again as your back arches, your hips rolling steadily at the same time his fingers pull out and fuck back into you. Everything in perfect rhythm. Every service of your outsides burning through to the inside with a pleasure that feels so fucking good.

Your wrist hurts from all the tugging and twitching your hand keeps doing, there’s going to be a raw inprint of the table etched on your ass when you stand you’re sure. The thought of traces of your wetness getting on the game board an afterthought—should make you feel some type of way, self conscious? Annoyed that things will have to be replaced? Perhaps. But all it does is make you wetter, makes you whimper and tremble at knowing that Eddie doesn’t care.

He could have waited until all the pieces were picked up and packed away. Could have waited until you were in his bed and his stereo was drowning out your moans so the neighbors couldn’t hear.

But he didn’t. He wanted you right here and now, no waiting, no hesitation, no worry about the arousal running down your asscheeks and potiently ruining the board. Or a bat of an eye when the others had given him weird looks when he pushed them out of the door. Clarity honing in on the fact that he had gone as far as rigging the game—something you try to be at least a little annoyed with—so he could get you like this, so he could push your skirt up and lose himself in the taste of you.

“Fuck,” you loved him.

His fingers crook up at just the right angle, touching just the right spot, intune with the rotation of his tongue, a combination that leaves you breathless. Your thighs closing in on his head, that burn in your belly turning into something scalding and over sensitive as you come on his tongue. A chorus of swears and his name panted out of you. The soft muffled groan of “that’s it” between your thighs as languid sucks, and licks from his mouth coax you through it, enough to make your body jerk and tremble.

Even once his mouth has left you, there’s still heat from him down there. Hot puffs of air on your still scorching skin as you come down. The gentle clenching of your cunt around his fingers that are still slowly moving inside your sensitive walls, making you ache for something thicker.

That was the thing with fucking Eddie. It was never just once; once a day, once a night. He was never satisfied with making you come only once. Always pulled you back into his bed when you were leaving, rolling on top of you to convince you to stay with his mouth pressed to your lips, vows of love and pleasurable torment against them, and his cock growing hard between your legs; your determination to leave his trailer, and his bed, losing its fire when a different blaze starts up when he slips inside of you. A wince of swollen pleasure from being fucked earlier that night swallowed down by his tongue in your mouth.

You guess tonight was the night of role reversals, because even as your breathing goes back to normal. As your heart stops pounding and your cheeks cool; as he rights your underwear and stands from the floor, there’s still that ache to be filled as you sit up—a pitter patter in your stomach relighting those embers of desire when you look down and see the bulge in his jeans.

Eddie grins at you, moves between your open legs to lean down and cup your cheeks in his palms. All you can taste when he kisses you is your arousal, the sweet slick of you on him. It’s that, and the heat of his body now touching the parts of you he hadn’t earlier, the parts that craved for his palms to reach up and cup, squeeze, flick. Making you crave him—again, more.

Your fingers come to the top of his jeans, having done this blindly enough in dark rooms, cars, and forests that you know where the buttons are. Know how to have them unbuttoned and your hand pushing into his boxers in no time.

Your palm feels cold against his throbbing cock. Your fingers moving along the protruding veins as you try to jerk him off as best as you can within the tight material. A low hiss breathed against your lips.

"You’re going against the rules." His chuckle is low and lacking authority. Pushing down the top of his jeans just enough to pull his cock free, to finally wrap your palm around his girth without struggle, you grin up at him.

“Fuck the rules. I want you.”

Eddie’s lips quirk up, runs his fingers down to your chin to play with your bottom lip. A fleeting touch that has you leaning into his hand before it’s gone, and moving across your hand that’s loosely wrapped around his cock. His fingers wrapping around yours, his other hand moving your skirt back up your thighs. The cool air on your still soaked lips as your underwear gets pushed to the side again, sending a shiver up your spine—that turns into a tremor when the tip of his cock moves between the wetness. “Never pleased is she? Always wanting more of me.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson one shot #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

[abyssruler]

cyno x gn!reader

There’s a lot that can be said about Cyno. He’s the General Mahamatra, the judicator of secrets, a genius scholar, and a very sweet (at least, to you he is) partner.

“You cheated.”

He was not, however, a very gracious loser.

“I won fair and square! You’re just mad you lost to a newbie at your little card game.” You grin smugly at his small scowl as he squints at the cards splayed between you that clearly indicates that he lost.

“How could this be? I had all my cards planned out, every move taken into consideration. I have all the rare cards while you’re only starting with a beginner’s set. No, it was luck, I know it was.”

You look away, fighting the smile that’s threatening to form on your lips and only succeeding in looking mildly constipated. There’s a distinct feeling of something sharp and thin digging into your skin when you shift in your seat.

“Hey…” He looks at you suspiciously. “Why are smiling?”

You’re quick to school your face into something more innocent. “What?”

His eyes narrow but finds nothing worth accusation in your eyes. With more effort than it should take, he moves his gaze from you to the stack of cards on the table, a frown on his face.

Something catches his attention.

“What the—” His hand scrambles over the assembled cards, coming away empty. He turns an accusing look at you. “The card I put here on my last roll is gone!”

You burst out laughing, doubling over the table and in the process, all the cards you snatched while he wasn’t looking come falling out your shirt.

He crosses his arms, an almost petulant scowl on his lips. “I don’t count this as your win.”

“I still won though!”

“Because you cheated.”

“It’s called playing smart,” you attempt to copy the haughty tone those Akademiya geezers always use when speaking to you.

He ignores your amazing rendition of an average scholar. “I demand a rematch.”

“Fine,” you concede, scrunching your nose as you pick up your cards. Then, thoughtfully, you ask, “We’re still having dinner tonight though, right?”

“Yes.”

“Even if I cheat?” You grin teasingly.

“…Yes.”

“You hesitated.”

“I did not,” he lies with a straight face.

“You so did.” You pull a face at him. “Stinky.”

“That’s juvenile.”

“I’m gonna make you cry so hard after I beat you at this game.”

He narrows his eyes at your challenge, rolling the dice and getting a five. “We’ll see.”

You did, in fact, win the game without having to resort to cheating. Unfortunately for you, Cyno didn’t bawl his eyes out after tasting defeat. He did, however, cook you a delicious dinner for managing to beat him fair and square.

#i wanted to make the reader eat the cards but….it is very unlikely that it is anatomically possible #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #genshin cyno x reader #genshin shorts #gn reader #serious x airhead

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Nights Spent In; Azul Ashengrotto

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established relationship

Word Count; 700+

Author's Note; This is for one of my first mutuals @azulashengrottospiano! I hope you enjoy this, and some domestic Azul! [and I'm keeping a screenshot of your ask ^v^]

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Safe to say your social battery was pretty much at zero. You had fun, yes, but all you wanted to do was stay at home in some ridiculously comfortable pyjamas, eat leftovers from lunch, cuddle a bit, and maybe look through the storage container labelled Games! :D since there could be some hidden gems in there. And right now you were cuddled up under a super chunky knit blanket, snug as a bug in a rug.

You were content just putting the leftovers from lunch in the microwave, but Azul had insisted that he made the both of you dinner. You didn’t mind, since you had a nice view of him working away in the kitchen, muttering the recipe of tonight’s dinner to himself. He was even wearing the frilly apron and kitschy oven mitts.

What a dork. I love him so much. You giggled to yourself, watching Azul go about the kitchen, off in his own little world. 

Sighing, you got up — the blanket draped over your shoulders so you were still in your nice blanket burrito — and shuffled over to the Games! :D container, seeing if there was anything interesting that Azul wouldn’t just automatically win. You loved him, but if he made you go bankrupt again in this world’s version of Monopoly one more time you swore that you weren’t going to give him any kisses. You may love him, but he was not a humble winner. 

So any strategy games were completely out the window, luck based games were more on your side… hopefully luck just decided to favour you tonight. At least you had a cute chef at the least.

Hmm? What’s this? Blowing off the dust you pulled out an old edition of Snakes and Ladders. It relied only on luck, so it was perfect!

“Hey, sweetie,” you called to the kitchen.

Azul was just placing your dinner in the oven, it would take about thirty minutes to bake, so he had time to spare… and for you? He could spare all the time in the world for you. “What is it, darling?”

You held up the game under your chin and gave him your biggest smile. “Wanna play?” You waggled eyebrows for some added flair, and it made Azul chuckle.

“Fine, one round, but I won’t go easy on you,” he said, sitting down at the coffee table. He eyed the game, and squinted his eyes at the dice. A luck-based game? Playing your cards right I see.

“You never do,” you shot him a wink and rolled the dice. You moved your piece forward, not hitting any ladders.

Azul rolled his eyes, but took his turn, overtaking you by two spaces, also not hitting any ladders. “Would you rather that I did?” He looked up at you through his lashes, a small smug smile on his face. 

You hummed as you took your turn, getting a ladder and going up a row. “No, it’s more fun like this, plus you’re extra cute when you get fired up.”

Azul pushed up his glasses, trying to ignore the warmth that had seeped into his cheeks. “Flattery won’t help you, my dear, when I win.”

“We’ll see about that.~”

The rest of the game was spent in silence, the occasional tch escaping when either of you hit a snake, but the game was neck in neck. You had to roll a perfect six to win, and Azul a four, and it was his turn. The both of you had your fingers crossed.

He rolled a two, the exact number that he didn’t want. He moved his piece forward and gritted his teeth as he moved it down two rows. He sighed, handing over the die. He knew that he had most likely lost this game.

You gently took it, and rolled a six. You had won. “Looks like luck was on my side tonight,” you grinned.

Azul grumbled, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. “Would you like a prize for that?” It was part sarcasm, but also part genuine question.

You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Just spending time with you is a prize in its own right… but I won’t say no to your cooking either!”

It wasn’t really a prize, as you were already getting his cooking for dinner, but it nonetheless made Azul feel soft and warm. The two of you really should spend more nights in if they were going to be like this.

~~~~~~~

Tags: @eynnwwyjth, @hydra-sea, @inkybloom-luv, @identity-theft-101, @krenenbaker, @officialdaydreamer00, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

#dove does events #follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x gn reader #sha la la la my oh my! go on and ~kiss da 'zul~ #you cannot tell me that he wouldn't wear a frilly apron; he's a nerd you know he would #would it even be called snakes and ladders in twst? ... eels and ladders??? #idk but it would be funny if azul was silently cursing out the tweels #also; idk if you remember your ask BUT you did in fact request the same 3 people as last time ^v^ that was also a part of why i tagged you #- in the vil drabble. i diagnose you with azul trey and vil brain rot #this is technically a bonus drabble #scheduled post since idk if i'll be busy or not #hope you enjoy auburn; and thank you for supporting the soul match au in it's infancy ^v^

[welcome-to-hawkins]

Knight in… scuffed leather?

Eddie Munson x reader

Part one Part two Part three

Summary: In which Eddie loses a game of DND and shows you who you belong to. (Absolute filth, read at your own risk 🤣)

Part of a series, but can be read as a standalone.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut, 18+, kissing, Dom!eddie, spanking, fingering, masturbation, choking, pussy spanking, oral (male and female receiving), spitting, dacryphilia, missionary, doggy style, handcuffs, knife use, creampie, cum play, nipple play, boob worship, slight anal play if you squint, eddie is a panty thief, use a condom people.

In true Hellfire style it all came down to the last dice roll.

Dustin needed a ten or higher to beat the monster and free the princess.

Eddie was stood in front of his throne, hands braced against the table, with a smirk on his face. All day Eddie had been bragging about his campaign, how it was unbeatable, how he had planned the perfect ending.

You would be annoyed, after all he was driving the kids insane and being cocky as all hell. You would be annoyed, that is, if his eagerness to win didn’t also reflect his eagerness to finally claim you.

He’d spent an hour yesterday with you in his lap detailing all of the ways in which he was going to make you feel good when he won tonight. It was as if the idea hadn’t even occurred to him that he could lose.

So you supposed he deserved it when Dustin rolled a 14.

The room exploded, actually exploded, when the party realised that they’d beaten the campaign. Dustins shrieks alone were enough to make dogs bark for a ten mile radius, and when Mike and Lucas started chanting…

You cheered along with them, proud of your boys and against all your better judgement, having actually enjoyed being a part of their game. You hugged your brother for as long as he would allow before shoving you off, not wanting to appear uncool in front of the great and powerful Eddie.

You looked at Eddie, expecting him to be disappointed, and instead found a smile. Not quite meeting his eyes, but still-

“You did it! You beat the campaign and rescued the Princess.” He walked over to the boys, “congrats”. He pats them on the back and rustles Dustins hair.

Eventually the rest of Hellfire all pack up and file out, making plans to go to Mikes and order pizza. They didn't bother inviting the two of you this time, having gotten used to your post Hellfire routine.

Eddie was still smiling as the door clicked behind them. Funny. You weren’t really sure how you’d expected him to react to a loss, but this wasn’t it. Complaining? Sure. Ranting about destroying them in his next campaign? Maybe. But the calm nature response? The last thing you’d pictured.

He had returned to sit on his throne, legs spread wide, pulling his jeans right across his thighs. He’d discarded his denim vest leaving his Hellfire shirt and worn leather jacket in place. Sat there, chin resting on an elbow that was jauntily placed on the arm of his seat, he looked like pure sin.

The smile had dropped, leaving his plump lips slightly downturned, almost pouting, whilst his eyes burned holes into the table. Maybe he was disappointed in his campaign, yes, that had to be it. You moved to stand before him, directly in the path his eyes were burning, before daring to speak.

“Eds, are you okay?” You spoke softly, “the party did really well tonight. The campaign was a hit”.

Your words were meant to sooth, maybe even bolster his ego a little, but instead-

“Did you want them to win?” His words were venomous, eyes snapping to yours.

“what?” That’s what he was mad about? You celebrated with the boys just the same as he had, but it’s not like you’d been rooting for either side… after all Eddie had promised you that you’d get to have him either way.

“You heard me. You wanted them to win. Wanted to get rescued. Probably dreaming about Steve ‘the king’ Harrington coming to take you away from me” his words were harsh, matched by his actions as he gripped your wrists and tugged you toward him. Your hands flew to the arms of the seat to steady yourself.

“Eddie what are you talking about? You get me either way, remember? I don't want Steve. Only want you” you spoke as calmly as your pounding chest would allow.

“Then prove it.”

You leaned in to kiss him but before your lips made contact he moved. The hands that were grasping your wrists spun you around and pushed your torso down, so you were bent over the table with your cheek pressed against the cold surface. You wanted to ask him what he was doing, but the only noise that came out was a soft moan.

“Better. Now stay still while I play with my pussy” he demands.

You comply, desperate for any type of contact. One hand remains in the centre of your back, pressing you down, whilst the other flips up your skirt and runs over the globe of your ass.

“So pretty”

As he gropes at your behind you become more and more eager for him to touch you, thrusting your hips back in an attempt to grind against him.

The smack of his palm against your bare cheek echoed through the room.

“What did I say about staying still? Hm, pretty girl?”

Your ass stung, but the sensation paired with his domineering attitude send shivers down your spine straight to your covered pussy.

“Fuck, m’sorry Eds. I’ll be good, please” you whined, not caring how pathetic you sounded begging for him.

He landed two more blows in quick succession, one to each cheek, and rubbed his palms over the red handprints he left behind.

“Oh baby, you say please but look how wet you get when i’m rough with you, you’re soaked" he teased. He dragged two fingers up your panty clad centre, smearing the wetness around as it seeped through.

He brought the same fingers up to your mouth where you lay against the table, tracing the seam of your lips and then pushing in to the last knuckle, pressing down against your tongue.

“You want me to fuck you Princess? Huh? Gotta take you home first. Can’t have the janitor walking in cus he heard you screaming” he laughed.

Eddie removed his fingers and pulled you upright. Once you were standing he hooked his fingers into the waist of your panties and tugged them down.

"There’s a new rule in my van; no panties” he smirked as he pocketed the soaked fabric, and then, voice lower, “but if you make a mess on my seats you won’t be able to walk for a week”.

Which was how you ended up here, sat in the front seat of Eddies van, without your panties, legs clenched together as tightly as you could.

You’d barely said a word to him, too focused on getting back to his place so he could finally fuck you and not making a mess on his seats while he drove you there.

It really didn’t help that all you could see was the straining bulge in his pants. You’d seen him with a boner before, I mean all those nights in Hellfire when he wouldn’t let you touch him hadn’t gone unnoticed, but now that you could actually touch him…

The temptation was too much. You reached across and palmed him through his pants. His knuckles turned white where they gripped the steering wheel and you took it as a sign to continue when he didn’t look your way or try to stop you.

His dick twitched against your hand through his pants and you pressed harder, fingers teasing against his zipper.

And then you had the best idea you’d had all week. You moved your other hand down between your legs and ran a finger through your wetness, letting out a sigh.

When you turn back to him he is already looking at you. His pupils are blown, chest heaving, as he says “you better put your goddamn hands in your lap and start behaving, else i’m gonna pull over and fuck you like a whore where anyone can see”.

Whilst the idea sends a fresh wave of wetness to your pussy, no doubt now smearing across the leather of his seats, you obey.

When you finally pull up outside Eddies house he drags you inside, holding your hand in a gesture most would think sweet. He doesn’t show you round or give you chance to take it in before he is dragging you into his room and shutting the door.

“Fucking brat.” He rasps, crossing the room and yanking something off the wall, “couldn’t even behave for one car ride huh? So needy you can't keep your hands to yourself?”

He pulls you into him and tugs your jacket back off your shoulders. Your eyes never leave him as you nod, desperate for him to touch you.

“If you can’t be trusted i’ll just have to find some other way to make sure you do what you’re told” his words ghost past your ear as he pulls both arms behind your back, holding them in one hand.

You hear the click of the handcuffs before the cool metal touches your skin.

“Fuck Eds, wait-” he clicks them shut around your wrists one at a time, keeping a thumbs width of extra space so they don’t bite into your skin.

He looks back at you, suddenly soft, “if you don’t want this, or you don’t like something… if at any point you want me to stop just say so, okay?” He strokes his hands down your arms reassuringly, searching your eyes for any signs that you want to stop.

“No Eddie, fuck please. Please touch me” your voice didn’t even sound like your own, so turned on by him that you’d do anything he asked.

And just like a switch the rough domineering Eddie was back.

He pushed you backwards until you fell on the bed, string arms throwing you further onto the mattress. His strength suprised you, the tall boy stronger than he appeared. You supposed by now you shouldn’t be suprised, nothing about him was what it seemed.

Your arms are trapped behind your back briefly, before Eddie lifted your legs up and helped you pull your bound arms under and to the front. He climbed across you and sat straddling your hips, stripping off his own jacket and shirt.

The sight of his bare chest covered in tattoos, necklace hanging in the centre, was a masterpiece. He didn’t let you ogle him for long before he leant down and finally reconnected your lips. As he kissed you your fingertips trailed the small patch of hair decorating the bottom of his stomach, trailing down into his pants.

He groans into your mouth, allowing the gentle contact, and then sits up again, pushing himself upright by bracing his arms either side of your head. He rolls off you and kicks his shoes off. Taking his time he also pulls your shoes off, followed by your socks. He grabs something out out of his leather jacket and reclaims his position on top of you.

“Stay still, m’not gonna hurt you” he mutters, face pinched in concentration as you see it.

His fucking knife.

He flips the shiny tip up and uses it to slice your shirt at the centre, cutting it in two all the way to the top. You gasp as you watch him, goosebumps covering your skin and eyes fixed on the knife.

He looks at you briefly before working the knife through the centre of your bra also, sawing through the reinforced band as if it was paper.

When both pieces of fabric were destroyed he shoved the knife onto his side table and traced a finger up the now bare strip of skin in the centre of your chest.

Not bothering to actually remove the shredded fabric he tugged either side away, revealing your bare chest to the air, nipples hard.

“Eddie please” you whined, but it got you nowhere as Eddie stared at your chest, transfixed. He’d seen your boobs before but it made no difference.

Large hands slid up your rib cage and covered each breast, pushing them up and together, fingers digging into the supple flesh.

Your cheeks burned as he played with your tits obscenely, making your thighs clench together. You don’t have time to get used to the sensation before he’s moving again, this time to the bottom of the bed, tugging off your skirt and spreading your legs.

Eddie lays on his stomach, your thighs draped over his shoulders, hands digging into your hips as they press you down into the mattress to keep you still.

He spits onto your spread pussy, the thick liquid landing above your clit and dripping down your opening to your ass. Eddie feasts on your pussy like a starving man, licking, sucking, biting.

Your hips buck up into his face, trying to chase your orgasm, moans increasing in volume and pitch until…

The asshole stops.

“Eddie no, please, please let me cum i’m so close” you cry, but he only chuckles darkly and climbs up your body. He pulls off his jeans and boxers, now as naked as you.

He tugs your arms above your head, using the chain on the handcuffs to hold them there, and once again straddles you. This time higher, sitting across your chest.

Your eyes rake over him, from the tattoos littered across his thighs to the trail of hair leading to his…

Oh my god.

Seeing him bare for the first time your eyes bulged. He was thick and veiny, about seven inches long, tip leaking with pre-cum and slapping up against his stomach. In this position he was barely an inch from your face, and your mouth watered as you realised what he was about to do.

“If you want me to stop just squeeze my hand, okay Baby?” He threads his hand into yours, fingers interlocked, and uses the other hand to tap his solid member against your lips.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you taste him smeared against you. Your eyes lock with his as your open and lean forward to take him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward instinctively and he groans, “fuck, so warm”.

You lick at his tip in your mouth, running your tongue along the sensitive nerve underneath. The hand not holding yours strokes your cheek softly and then,

“I’m gonna move, okay? Wanna use those pretty lips”.

He slid into the back of your mouth, slowly at first, until his tip hit the back of your throat. Your mouth stretched around his thick cock and you felt your eyes water. It was uncomfortable, should have made you panic and choke for air, but his weight on you paired with his gentle touch had you clenching around nothing.

He pulls out until only the tip is resting on your lower lip and then back in, slamming against the back of your throat harshly. His pace is quicker, hips pistoning as he fucks your face. You gag around him as spit coats your chin.

He pulls out to allow you a breath, string of spit connecting you to him. His thumb swipes across your swollen lips gathering the spit be finds there and spreading it around. He takes note of the tears that have now streamed down your cheeks and wipes them away.

“Good girl, so fucking good for me” he whispers, voice gravelly and low. You don’t even attempt to form words for your response, instead opting for a broken moan and the grinding of your hips below him.

He chuckles, “my needy girl”, he moves off of you and pulls your legs up, settling on his knees between them, “you want me to fuck you, huh? Wanna be filled up?” His words are teasing and in any other situation would cause you to shy away.

But right now? “Fuck Eds, please. Please fuck me” you begging was becoming the theme of the night, and you didn’t much care.

He dragged his cock up through your soaked folds and you moaned in unison. Then finally, finally, he pushed his tip inside.

Inch by inch he filled you, the stretch delicious as you rocked against him. When he was finally buried inside you he paused, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. You stayed that way for a second, breathing in each other’s air, and then he was moving. Hips slamming against yours harshly, fingers no doubt leaving bruises you’d see tommorow.

“Look at you, so fucking pretty laying there. Tits bouncing while I fuck you” he moves a hand from your hip to your leg, pulling it up and over his shoulder. He leans his weight forward into you and the shift in position has you crying out when his tip brushes against your g-spot.

Head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream Eddie thinks you look more perfect than he’s ever seen.

“Look at me, hey” he demands, “look at me while I ruin you Princess” you follow his orders and look at him through lust blown eyes.

“Mouth open” he spits again, this time directly onto your tongue, and you swallow it eagerly. The action is sinful and without warning you come, clamping down around him.

He kisses you while you come down, messy but soft, coaxing you through your high.

“Good girl, fuck squeezing me so tight, you got another one in you for me? Hm?” He doesn’t give you time to answer, “know you do baby, come on show me how good you can be”.

He pulls out and flips you over, chest pressed into the mattress, pulling your hips up until you’re kneeling. Face pressed into the bed, arms hanging limply under you and ass up in the air, he kneels behind you.

In this position you’re exposed to him completely, something that is only made clearer when he lands a slap against your ass.

Your cry is muffled by the pillow as he spanks you again, watching your ass ripple with each blow. He slides back inside you, fucking you roughly. He alternates between palming at your ass cheeks and spanking you, delighting in the way your skin reddens and you clench down on him.

You reach a hand down to rub at your sensitive bud, attempting to gain some more friction. Eddie stills inside you completely, and then pulls out.

“Did I say you could touch?”

“No! Fuck please Eddie i’m sorry please don’t stop” you’re crying, actually crying at this point, as you push your hips back trying to get him to resume fucking you.

You hear the air whooshing first before you feel it, a harsh slap against your hot cunt.

Thank god for the pillow you’ve buried your face in, because your scream is deafening.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He asks, hands soothing burning skin.

“Yours, yours only yours” you cry.

He runs a thumb across your asshole, feeling you clench and shake.

“Good girl.” And like that he’s back inside you, pounding you harder, faster, and your back arches as he brings his hand to your front, rubbing tight circles into your bud. His rings are cold in contrast to your hot skin and when he moves the other hand up to your throat and tugs you up, back against his chest, you sob with pleasure.

“M’gonna cum” it’s a wonder you get the words out as your entire body tightens and jerks around him. His thrusts begin to falter as you trigger his own orgasm, dropping you back down against the bed and covering your body with his own.

He ruts into you like an animal, hips smacking against your ass, as you lay there spent.

Burying himself inside you to the hilt Eddie cums, hot liquid coating your insides. He collapses on top of you as he comes down.

The two of you lay there like that for a second, breathing returning to a normal pace as Eddie rolls you onto your side. He’s still inside you and the movement drags him against your sensitive walls.

Eddie moans in your ear and pulls out. You roll onto your back while he hops up, back between your legs, again.

He watches mesmerised as his cum leaks out of you. He drags a finger up through it and pushes it back inside you.

“Fuck! Eds, too sensitive” you grumble.

“Sorry baby” he has the good sense to look bashful, sweet Eddie back with you finally. He drops beside you, both sweaty and quite frankly exhausted.

“Shit!” He turns to you, eyes wide and panicked.

“What, what’s wrong?” Your heart drops, trying to figure out what he’s about to say

“Please tell me you’re on the pill” he blurts, “I mean it’s fine if you’re not, I can buy you something, or I mean we can-”

You laugh, openly and freely laugh in his face, “of course i’m on the pill. Do you think i’d let you cum inside me if I wasn’t?” Looking at the guilty look on his face you add “actually… don’t answer that”.

He tucks you into his chest, head against the tattoo you now love so much. You lay in comfortable silence for as long as you can before you have to move to clean up.

“Munson?”

“Yeah?”

“Please tell me you have the keys to these handcuffs”

Thank you to everyone for reading!!!

Please let me know if you enjoyed it or want to see more!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #smut #x reader #munsonsgirlanswers

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Girls Night

“You owe me 200!”

“Fine! Just take all my money!”

You laughed, throwing the paper money at her and taking a sip of your wine. It was safe to say that you sucked at playing Monopoly. Ellie had ownership of all the railroads and utilities, Abby had at least 2 hotels on each of her properties, and Alex spent most of her time in jail.

It still wasn’t a match for you, who had 25 dollars to your name, 2 properties that only generated around 30.00 total in rent, and would miss the free parking space every chance you got. When your time came and you rolled the cursed dice, the Monopoly Gods decided to end your pathetic gaming reign by putting you in jail.

“Alright, well I’m out,” you stated defeatedly, taking a long sip of wine as your confirmation.

“Aw, it’s alright Y/N. Maybe you’ll do better the next game!” Abby tried but you shook your head with a quickness.

“Absolutely not. Not only is this game rigged to make me realize how terrible of a homeowner I am, but it lasts forever! Alex knows, she’s been in jail for the last three turns.”

“Hey, I don’t mind it. I just collect all my rent money while I’m in here,” Alex retorted.

You laughed as you heard the front door open and saw Jethro walk in with a grocery bag and a bottle of whiskey. You got up from your spot immediately, happy to see him home finally and walked over as he set the stuff down on the kitchen counter. He had let the team go home earlier in the night but told you he needed to stay behind to do some paperwork on their latest case. Abby was the first one to suggest the girls game night and it didn’t take much convincing of Ellie or Alex when the promise of wine, snacks, and a warm fire were included.

“Hey hun. You just missed my embarrassing defeat in Monopoly. Remind me to never play this game with your team again, they’re entirely too good. And I think Abby’s been hiding all the good chance cards up her sleeve.”

He chuckled as you gave him a welcome home kiss and started noisily poking around in the goods he had brought home.

“Ooh. Chips, dip and whiskey? You trying to butter me up sir?”

He smiled and pried the bottle from your hands. “Whiskeys mine. And it sounds to me like you’re already buttered up,” he teased softly, not wanting his special agents to hear your two’s playful PDA. With another small kiss, he walked out to the group of girls and surveyed the real estate war.

“Doing well Abbs. Bishop, I like your strategy. And Quinn, stop hiding in jail.”

“I’m not hiding! I’m just taking my time,” she defended as everyone laughed.

“I’ll be downstairs if you girls need me. Good night.”

They called out their farewells as he made his way into his little woodworking dungeon and you took your spot back, bringing the new snacks with you.

“Alright Banker Abby. I need a loan,” you pleaded.

————

The clock read 11 pm once the girls left and you cleaned up your game space. In the end, it was Ellie who won, most likely due to her incredible NSA analysis skills and you had ended up with at least more than the small loan Banker Abby gave you. Once you put all the furniture back and glassware in the dishwasher, you made your way downstairs to see Jethro.

There was light country music and a muted tv playing as you watched him slowly move the sandpaper over his newest project. He had finished the boat a while back and offered to build you some beautiful planter boxes for the garden you wanted to start once spring came around.

It was always a treat for you when you watched him work. His movements were smooth and calculated, knowing just how much pressure to apply or what angle to use and seeing him wearing his tool belt and covered in sawdust just did it for you.

“You gonna stand there all night?” he called out with a smirk.

Walking over, you hopped up on one of the counters and took a small sip of his mason jar whiskey, slightly cringing at the taste.

“You know who would be really great for Ellie? Nick. I think their different personalities would really even each other out.”

“Rule number 12, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. Since when do any of his subordinates follow it, including himself. You knew all about his past with the director and Sloan, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Rule number 83. Don’t be a hypocrite,” you quipped, making up your own rule.

He gave you the look that you see from him to his team all the time but it didn’t work on you so you just smiled cheekily back at him. He stopped sanding and came over, taking the glass from your hands and finishing the awful brown liquor, your arms snaking around his neck. He smelt like a lumbermill mixed with a distillery and you loved it. You loved it even more when you pulled him in for a kiss and tasted the leftover vapors of his whiskey on his tongue. The effect of drinking your 3 glasses of wine had you feeling warm and fuzzy and made Jethro’s touch electric.

When you two pulled away, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “Let’s go to bed.”

Not needing any convincing, you nodded and he helped you down, taking off his toolbelt and carelessly dropping it on one of the tables before following you back upstairs.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #jethro gibbs fanfiction

[hayleythesugarbowl]

oooh a oneshot of angela where everyone thinks angela is the golden retriever and reader is the black cat, but behind close doors reader is basically a golden retriever and just so energetic and cuddly

orrrr

reader is usually very independent and strong, but she gets sick on a game night with angela and angela takes care of her and she's (r) actually just a baby and angela loves this side of reader ect ect

Princess || Angela Giarratana x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you start to feel sick during a game night with angela, you let her take care of you for once and she gets to see a different side of you

word count: 2k

warnings: mild sick fic

a/n: ok I kinda went with option 2 so I hope that’s ok and I hope you like what i did with it! enjoy!! 🎀🍒

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     “Angela, your move,” you said, nudging your girlfriend who was talking to Amanda on her other side.

     “Right sorry,” Angela said laughing and nudging you back. She rolled the dice and cheered when she got what must have been a good number.

     You still didn’t completely understand the rules of this game. You and your coworkers at Smosh were having a game night and Angela had dragged you along. You massaged your temples as you felt the start of a headache coming on. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there, it was just that you were feeling tired and didn’t have the energy for this right now. 

     In truth, you didn’t feel all that great. You could feel the beginning of a cold ravaging your body and you ached all over. But you didn’t want to mention anything to Angela, not when she was so excited about this game night. Because for a woman who never understood how to play games, she sure loved playing them. 

     “(Y/n), did you hear me?” Angela was practically bouncing in her seat. “I won!”

     You shook off your haze and drew your eyes to Angela’s. 

     “That’s great sweetie,” you said, mustering all the enthusiasm you could. You didn’t want anyone to know you felt less than perfect. Because then they’d just try to tell you to lie down and ask if they could get you anything and you could handle yourself darn it! 

     Although truth be told, some hot soup actually sounded amazing right now. You brought yourself back to the present and turned to Shayne, who was sitting across the table from you and Angela.

     “So, what are we playing next?” You asked.

     “Well, the next game we have picked out is called The Best Friend Game,” he said, reading the rules, “Players team up and see which pair knows the most about each other.”

     Angela grabbed your wrist, shouting,  “(Y/n)’s on my team!”

     “Good luck, Angela,” Arasha said as she began to examine a few of the cards, “I’m pretty sure (Y/n)’s never had a partner in the history of games.”

     She was exaggerating. But only a little. You preferred to be your own teammate. Was there anything wrong with that?

     “That’s not true,” you crossed your arms, “I have had partners before.”

     “And stop looking at the cards, Arash,” Chanse grabbed them from her and placed them under the pile. 

     Angela looked at you with her best puppy dog eyes and you caved.

    “Alright. Teammates.”

     Angela pumped her fist in the air and everyone laughed. You laughed with them until you felt a sharp pain in your chest as you held back a cough. You put a hand over your chest and winced before you could stop yourself. 

    Angela turned to you and furrowed her brow. She tried to reach out and get your board for you but you quickly grabbed it before she could, smiling. 

     “Who’s going to read the first card?” you prompted, covering up your moment of pain.

     “I will!” Courtney said, picking up the one on the top of the pile. “What was your teammate’s most horrific memory?” 

     They began to write their answer down while their partner, Damien, guessed at their answer. 

     The other teams followed suit and you, having to guess Angela’s, knew exactly what to write. 

     Once you finished writing your answer, you let yourself rest your chin in your hand. You felt a bit dizzy, but other than that your headache was manageable and the aches you felt had to go away soon, right?

     “Alright,” Amanda said, turning to her partner, Shayne, “I said your most horrific memory was when you went on a date with that girl and she told you she already had a boyfriend in the middle of it.”

     You pulled at your sweater. Did they have the heat blaring in here?”

     “Amanda!” Shayne turned his board over revealing his answer, “I almost died when I was a baby. Is that not horrific enough for you?”

     You heard what they were saying but you let your ears unfocus as you placed a shaking hand to your forehead. Nope, it was definitely you that was hot. And not in the good way.

     “Shayne, you were a baby, you can’t remember that, so it’s not a memory!” 

     As you listened to them laugh and argue about it your ears began to ring and you realized you had spaced out.

     You didn’t want anyone to worry or to ruin anyone’s night, but you had to get home soon before you got worse. 

     Maybe you could make an excuse? You couldn’t think of what right now with your head pounding, due to the headache that was definitely not manageable. 

     “(Y/n), are you ok?” Angela asked you.

     “What? Why wouldn’t I be! I’m perfectly fine,” you whispered back to her.

     But you could feel yourself getting sicker by the minute. Darn your lousy immune system! 

     You let yourself think about how easy it would be to just tell Angela that you didn’t feel good so that you wouldn’t have to do this. But you didn’t want to be taken care of. You could deal with it yourself if you could just get through this night without complaining. 

    That all changed when you felt a wave of nausea roll over you. You bit your lip to keep your lunch from ending up on this table and you wiped your hair away from your face.

     “(Y/n), it’s our turn, what did you write?” Angela said.

     “Oh,” you hadn’t even been paying attention to where the game was going, “I um—”

     You looked around you at the table and made your decision then. You would just make an excuse that was believable but not too concerning. Maybe your non-existent dog did need to be fed. 

     “I think I’m just going to head home,” you blurted, “If that’s ok with all of you.” 

     The room felt hotter and as you stood up you felt wobbly so you quickly sat back down again to regain your balance. 

     Angela stood up and put a hand on your back, which you shook off. “I’m fine, Ange.”

     “(Y/n) you are clearly not fine and we’re going home right now.”

     “No,” you protested, “you should stay and have fun I just have some things to take care of so I’ll just—”

      You stood up again and this time you stayed standing but you put a hand to your head as the blood rushed there and made your vision blurry.

     “Ok, so maybe I have a tiny cold,” you admitted and Angela rolled her eyes, “But I��m fine, really, I’ll just go home and rest for a little.”

     “Nope. Not gonna happen,” Angela said firmly, “You’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”

     “But—”

     “No buts, come on,” she wrapped an arm around you and began to walk away with you.

     “Bye guys,” you called behind you and a chorus of ‘bye’ and ‘get well soon’ followed you as Angela guided you to her car. 

     You let yourself lean into her touch even though you knew you shouldn’t be. 

     So much for handling this yourself. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     When you got to Angela’s house, she led you upstairs and into her bedroom. 

     “Now lie down here and I’ll be right back,” she told you.

     “Angela, I can go home,” you said, “I don’t need to be taken care of.” 

     “Maybe I want to take care of you,” she turned to look at you as she walked out the door and back sown the stairs.

     You sighed. You supposed lying down in Angela’s bed just for a minute wouldn’t be the end of the world. Since standing felt like torture it wasn’t hard to convince yourself. Besides, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been in Angela’s bed before, just in very different circumstances. 

     You climbed in, feeling the cool sheets on your arms and legs. As you lay your head back on the pillow you let your eyes close for a moment until your head stopped spinning. You felt like you had just run a mile and now you could finally rest your muscles. What would be the harm in closing your eyes for just a few minutes?

     You opened them abruptly when you heard Angela coming back in the room. You must have fallen asleep for a moment. Angela carried a bowl of what looked like soup and a glass of water. 

     “Drink this,” she said, handing you the glass.

     “Angela,” you started and she gave you a look that said not to argue with her.

     “(Y/n), you’re taking this water or so help me—”

     “No, I was just going to say thank you,” you said as you took the water. You didn’t have the energy to fight her anymore, you realized, and now you were just glad Angela was here with you. The water felt amazingly refreshing on your throat.

     “Oh,” Angela said, smiling. You took the soup from her as well. 

     What would be the harm in letting her take care of you this once? Isn’t that what people who cared about each other were supposed to do? 

     And it felt good to let her pamper you, you thought, as she began fluffing your pillows. 

      “Angela? It is kind of cold in here,” you said, pulling up the blankets around your arms, a sharp contrast from the warmth you had felt earlier at Smosh. 

     “Blanket, coming right up,”  Angela said, moving around the room to grab an extra blanket for you. She came back and laid it over you before feeling your forehead and shaking her head.

     “You’re burning up, (Y/n),” she said. “Try to get some rest.”

    She brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. Her touch felt good on your face. 

    “Ok, I’m going to let you try to get some sleep,” she said quietly, “but I’ll be right outside if you need me or anything.”

     She started to move away from you but you grabbed her wrist.

     “Wait, Angela—” you pushed and she waited for you to finish, “Stay?” 

     Angela smiled at you, “Of course, love. I was hoping you would say that.”

     She pulled up a chair from across the room next to your—her—bed and you set the soup on the bedside table, letting your eyes close, feeling comforted by her presence.

     Your head still pounded and you felt crummy overall, but you were beginning to feel less awful now that you allowed yourself to lay down.

     You turned on your side so you faced Angela. 

     “Are you feeling any better?” She asked you. You attempted a nod but you were finding it harder and harder to lift your eyelids.

“No,” you pouted, and Angela kissed your forehead as she rolled her eyes at you fondly.

     “Sing for me?” You mumbled.

      She shifted in her seat, looking like she was contemplating saying something.

     “What?” You asked, still not opening your eyes.

     “Nothing,” she said and you could feel her smiling, “I just love seeing this side of you.”

     “Sick and achy?” 

     “Of course not dummy,” she said. “You just don’t let me do things for you…ever.”

     “Not true,” you said into the pillow. 

     “(Y/n), you know it’s ok to need help, right?” She said it so sincerely it was alarming and you opened your eyes. 

    “I know that,” you said. 

     “Do you?” She said, “Because you never let me take care of you.”

     You supposed you didn’t. You just didn’t want to be a burden and you didn’t want Angela to think you were incapable of doing things for yourself.

     “I’m your girlfriend, (Y/n),” Angela continued, “You don’t have to put up a front for me.”

     You looked down, “You’re right. I just—you were having so much fun at the game night earlier and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

     Angela laughed, “You have to know you’re more important than a game night.”

     You thought you did, but it was nice to hear it anyways. You reached out a hand to Angela and she took it, smiling.

     “Now I believe I requested a song,” you teased, moving the pillows before laying your head back down again.

     “Right sorry,” Angela mumbled, “princess.”

     But she was smiling as she began singing you to sleep. And as you listened to the beautiful notes that she sang, you began to drift off.

     Feeling comfortable at last.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed love!! have a great day <3🍓🪩

#angela giarratana x reader #angela giarratana #smosh fanfiction #smosh imagine #smosh #smosh pit #smoshblr #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader

[lokislittlemidgardian]

Oooo I have been looking everywhere for some daddy!eddie and you wrote him so good!!

If I may, how about little!reader coming with Eds to a hellfire meeting? 😊

dnd and colouring in

Content- hell fire club, very poorly written dnd, little!reader, dummy use, Dustin vibing with reader, soft toys, dnd scene from stranger things, canon swearing, mentions of bigspace.

Summary- Eddie has a hellfire meeting, you don't have a clue what's going on but you like watching how serious your daddy gets.

Authors note- this is such a lovely concept, I will be honest I don’t know anything about dnd so I just copied the scene in season 4 lmao, so sorry it took so long,it's not proofread, hope you enjoy♡

You didn’t know much about the game your daddy was playing but you enjoyed seeing him so passionate about something, besides you of course. 

you were sitting a little bit away from the table with a colouring book in front of you and your black rabbit in your arms, Eddie was setting up with his 3 of his friends “Hey Y/N” said the one with the tartan red shirt on “hiii” you elongated the word colouring in your last bit on green. 

about 30 minutes later two boys you knew as Dustin and Mike walked into the room with a shorter girl with an American flag draped over her like a cape. You liked Dustin, he would always have conversations with you regardless of weather you were big or little.

“Absolutely not” Eddie said sitting on his throne with his hands clasped together “you asked for a sub, we delivered” Dustin said pointing to the girl “this is Hell fire club, not babysitters club” that resulted in a grunt and a death stare from you “not you baby, not you” he whispered reassuringly as he walked towards the trio.  

as you listened to the back and forth between the two of them your little side was a bit intimidated by the 11 year old but at the back of your mind your big side grew a liking towards her. 

eventually Eddie backed down and they were all sat down at the table beginning the final part of the campaign. 

Eddie described the monster to the club with very distinct detail, now normally it would scare you however he had already told you what it looked like so hearing it for the second time it didn’t really bother you. “do you flee Vecna and his cultists, or do stand your ground and fight?” Eddie questions the members around the table. “I say we fight, to the death” Dustin replied “to the death” “to the death” “to da death” you mumbled under your breath making Eddie chuckle. 

at this point your colouring in was discarded and you started to feel the suspense of the campaign, watching carefully as everyone rolled the dice and had very intense reactions you started to really enjoy yourself. the best part was when your daddy started doing weird movements and jumped up onto his throne causing you to cackle. 

the club huddled together after a while and your daddy quickly came to check on you, “hey princess, you ok?” he asked giving the top of your head a kiss “yeah daddy I'm ok, this is fun” you giggled into the fur of your bunny “yeah, you enjoying it” he smirked at you “yep.”

after he walked back he got their attention “Hey!, if I may interject gentlemen, lady applejack, whilst I respect the passion you’d be wise to take Gareth the Greats concern to heart. there is no shame in running. Don’t try to be hero’s, not today kay?” he said spreading his arms out “ one sec.”

“Screw it, lets kill the son of a bitch.” “the chances of success are 20 - 1″ “never give me the odds” Dustin said in a sassy way making you giggle. “Give me the D20″ he said Eddie throwing the dice at him. Dustin missed, you made a mental note to remember that for when you were big again. watching as Erica took the last roll you held on tightly to the cuddly rabbit in your arms.

20

Erica had rolled a twenty.

it took you a few minute to realise that it was over and they had won and when you did you shot up and made you way over to them. everyone was screaming including you, giving Dustin a hug you both jumped up and down together him shouting and you squealing. looking at Erica you gave her a small smile gave her a quick side hug “well done” “thanks Y/N” she said with a smile, she obviously knew Dustin would have told her, add that to the list of things to berate him about when your big.  

Running over to Eddie you jumped into his arms, he spinning you around making you giggle hysterically. 

if this was how all god campaigns ended, you’d have to come to more.

#daddy!eddie #little!reader #caregiver #sfw age regression #age regression reader #little reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: David/Jake; bilateral move

For the prompt: Jake pov marriage and kids discussion - I know he loves David but how does he feel seeing as he would want these things and his partner doesn’t AND

Companion piece to this.

Jake likes kids. A lot. Has liked them since he was a kid himself, always happy to look out for the littler ones, maybe because he was the baby in his own family, Allie and Nat bouncing between treating him like he was a doll and telling him he was too young to join whatever they were doing, quit bugging them.

He likes kids, and he's always wanted them, has for as long as he can remember. Wanted the same kind of family he had, the only thing missing from their happy family in the suburbs picture a dog, because dad was allergic to them.

Some things have changed — he figured he’d have a wife at the beginning, and then he didn’t know, and then it was David. Not ‘a wife’ or ‘a husband’, but David, because David's been it for him since he clapped eyes on him, pretty much. Maybe not that quick, but close.

After that, any daydreams about what the future looked like always included David, and that meant no suburban picket fence with three kids and a dog, meant no proposing at center ice, no matter how sick that would be. And definitely, definitely no romantic gold medal or Stanley Cup or anything. The daydreams stopped sometime around the point where David even looking him in the eye was asking for too much, started to again when they got back together, but at that point they were mostly daydreaming about what they’d do during the offseason, closer, more realistic.

Around twenty-seven or so he quit thinking about the picket fence for good, not because he grew out of it, but because he knew that the things he was thinking about, they weren’t things David wanted. And not just things David didn’t want: increasingly he was realizing that his idle fantasies were David’s worst nightmares.

*

The thing is, Jake retired wearing the exact same jersey he got drafted in, redesign aside. And he’s proud of that. He was never going to win a Cup with the Panthers, not when his career was winding down and the Panthers were going into their second and a half rebuild, the furthest he'd ever gotten with them the second round.

Talking with management before signing yet another one year contract, they said nobody would blame him if he wanted go somewhere else, roll the dice a time or two. But Florida had been home since he was a teenager, Jake had worn that jersey season after season, been proud to wear it, proud of the guys who did — even when they sucked, they were working their asses off, every single night, they were trying.

Jake wanted to retire in that jersey, and not the way Joe did, signing a one day contract to do it, though fuck knows he didn't hold it against him, was just happy to be a part of the ceremony when Joe did retire, because he missed the hell out of him when he was hunting for a Cup his final few seasons, just happy to see him in red and blue again. Proud, but a little envious when Joe's gamble paid off in his final year.

But then, Jake wouldn't take back staying a Panther for anything, not even a Cup. He doesn't regret a single thing. Joe won gambling on a game Jake wasn't willing to play — it'd be like being jealous of someone else winning the lottery when you never ever bought a ticket.

Not that David's a prize. And not that he’s something Jake’s staying loyal to because it’s been so long that it just makes sense to. Jake says he wouldn't have given up being a Panther for anything, but that's not true. If he'd had a shot to play with David, a real chance to play on a line with him, see just how good they are together, not in a camp or an All-Star game or tooling around on a rink in suburban Detroit, he thinks he might have. In fact, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have let them get the entire question out before he said okay.

And that doesn't make sticking with the Panthers any less meaningful. He did stick with them, after all. But there’s hockey, and there’s David, and he knows which is more important, and fuck knows both together would have been a no brainer decision,

It didn’t work out that way, unfortunately. Not that Jake has regrets, because he doesn’t, doesn’t see the point in having them, but that’s one of the things he knows has passed him by. By the time he hits forty, he knows the marriage and kids thing is too. Thinks he knew that a long time before that — at twenty-seven, changing the daydreams, at twenty-five, welcoming David back with two open arms then holding on tight, stunned with how lucky he was. Maybe even at nineteen, kissing David back, feeling like all his dreams just came true, not knowing that they were going to change along the way.

David sitting him down, letting him know that kids aren’t a thing he wants, that isn’t news for him — he doesn’t think David’s right about himself, thinks David would be a good parent, that he’d work hard at it like he’s worked hard at everything he cares about, and he’d care so fucking much. But Jake’s well aware that this isn’t the kind of subject where reasoning beats out emotions, and, whether or not David would make a good father doesn’t actually matter, because he doesn’t want to be one.

The worst thing is that the only reason this comes up is Jake thought he was being helpful. David hates talking about it, visibly freezes up when the topic comes up, so Jake always says something noncommittal and changes the subject as quickly as possible. 

He thought that was the kindest thing he could do, but maybe it isn’t, maybe it just made David suffer for longer. Jake hadn’t known he was suffering at all, but the way David’s talking, somewhere between hesitant and frantic, talking like this is something he expects Jake to hold against him, something he expects Jake to leave him for — 

“David,” Jake says. David looks up, meeting his eye for less than a second before he ducks his head, like he’s ashamed. Or — no. Like he’s scared. Like he’s terrified. He looks down at his hands, and when Jake looks at them too, that’s when he finally notices they’re shaking.

“I’ve been gone for you since we were eighteen years old,” Jake says softly. “What did you think was going to happen here?”

“I don’t know,” David says, very quietly, and it’s that, the smallness, that breaks Jake’s heart.

#fic snippet #jake lourdes #david chapman #SOTM

[stickandthorn]

One thing I loved about Calamity was how Brennan handled mechanics in a way that felt like it enhanced the story and the world building. Now, I’m not very good at mechanics in dnd, but I will sometimes hear people talk about them like they’re almost an enemy to the storytelling and worldbuilding, or at the very least completely separate from it. Which I think is just blatantly untrue, the simple mechanics can be such a good storytelling tool, and I think Calamity and what Brennan did with it is a super good example of that.

For instance, he used a few things from early editions of dnd, like Vespin being a Malconvoker (prestige class from 3.5, there’s a great Reddit post about Vespin being that circling somewhere), or using magic item saving throws as a mechanic, which I’m pretty sure was also 3.5 (but I could be wrong). This was super neat in my opinion, because Calamity was a prequel game, and these few small callbacks to earlier editions of dnd felt like a super meta, but super cool way to ingrain that into the world building of the mechanics.

Brennan also gave them more allowances to do interesting things, in my opinion. He didn’t stack things unfairly in their favor, but he also let them do interesting and unique things outside of the exact ruleset. Some of it was because he was being a nice DM telling a story and didn’t want them to get so unfairly fucked over by the dice, like letting Travis re roll to hit Vespin, but also other things. Like when Laerryn and Quay went to go defend an arcane battery, and Brennan let them just mark off a spell slot and say they won, because they were that powerful. Or some of the more interesting things they did with the memories. Or even just letting Patia fry what’s her name in her own spell. I really don’t think this was unfair, to me it just helped hammer home that these are powerful people in the age of arcanum! This is peak magic time! Of course they’re allowed to do some fun and interesting things, this is when the fun and interesting things happened! Just general, I think he let them get a lot of stuff, through rolls or abilities or otherwise, but it never felt like him handing it to them. It was still a challenge, but it felt like he was showing how these powerful people function in this powerful world. Overall, I just think everything about this game was great, right down to the mechanics.

#critical role #cr spoilers #exu: calamity #cr #Brennan lee mulligan

[mintys-musings]

Rinne Amagi x GN!Reader - Champagne and Sunshine

Rinne !!!!!! My beloved that I’m not so secretly insane about 💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 funny that his day is the one day i write soft sex- but all the story moments where he’s unexpectedly thoughtful and soft is so *rattles the bars to my cage* do you get it !!! do you understand the insanity it inflicts upon my poor heart who eats up the fucking “hides his actual feelings with a persona” trope (see also: Madara Mikejima) !!!!!! i could go on. Apologies for the long ass build up btw

summary: The morning after your anniversary, Rinne’s still feeling lovey dovey.

tags: soft sex for a while (“soft” compared to usual rinne activity), service top!Rinne, fingering, body worship, unprotected sex, … h-.... Hand holding-

word count: 2197

NSFW under cut~

The golden rays of sunlight kiss your eyelids gently as the smells and sounds of breakfast being made danced into the bedroom. You snuggle further into the bed, wrapping the sheets around yourself more. There’s a distinct lack of another person in this bed that you missed. The only way you thought to half-assedly quell that feeling was by hugging one of the pillows that he was using. You could still smell a bit of his cologne from last night— pink pepper and bergamot. 

You nearly drift back into slumber if it wasn’t for the sounds of your usually dead asleep snoring in the AM boyfriend softly cursing under his breath.

“Augh-! Shit- shit-” 

He mumbles something else and you hear a soft clattering sound.

He’s a grown man. He can handle whatever it is.

You pay no mind to him and just continue to doze for what feels like only a few seconds before you feel a weight being put on the mattress. For a moment, there was silence.

But just a moment.

“Baaaabe~” Rinne whines as he puts his full weight on top of you. “Honeeeey beeeeee~ Wake up~!”

He nuzzles his face right into your chest, squeezing you into his arms as he rolls the two of you around on the bed. 

“Gah! Rinne!” You squirm in his grasp.

As soon as your face emerges from the bedsheets, he showers you in kisses. This wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. Usually this would’ve happened later in the day as you two tended to sleep in together. But he was always much more affectionate and energetic than usual after big events. Be it concerts, award shows were Crazy:B are even so much as nominated, whatever constituted a party called for extra affection from the bee.

Yesterday was your one year anniversary. Surprisingly, he planned an entire trip at an amusement park, rolling dice after every attraction and game stall you two visited to determine the next move. It was more fun than you’d admit to his face. The cherry on top was a candlelit dinner on the rooftop of a high class restaurant. How did he get a reservation? He would only grin and say it was fate. You would say it was his unit mate that you spotted plating a dish table side on your way to the bathroom.

But you didn’t tell him that.

Now you were being nuzzled and kissed all over by him.

You manage to push him off enough to plant a loving kiss of your own on his lips. 

“Good morning,” you say. “You seem happy.”

Rinne laughs in the way he always does, scooping you up and settling you on his lap. His blue eyes bore into yours with a love drunk gaze. “‘Course I’m happy, babe.” He presses his lips to yours gently. “I’ve had the privilege of being yours for over a year.” One of his hands raises to cup your cheek. “Who wouldn’t be happy with that?”

For all the time he spent acting like a fool, gambling his savings away, pranking suspecting idols in the agency, he never failed to remind you how important you were to him. At first it was subtle. He’d protect you from leering eyes or suddenly treat you to lunch whenever he supposedly won big at pachinko. Now he was much more comfortable dropping that outrageous mask in front of you. He was at ease with you.

“I made you breakfast.”

His words snap you out of your reminiscing and yes. There was, in fact, a tray with toast and scrambled eggs sitting on your bedside table along with two mugs of coffee. One mug less filled than the other.

“... Did you actually make that?” You ask, tilting your head. The eggs were cooked to a perfect soft scramble and the toast nearly looked fake with how even the toasting was.

He looks to the side, his signature cocky smile on his face as he scratches the back of his neck. “I picked up a few things while livin’ with Niki all those years, ‘kay?”

You give him a sleepy smile and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, honey.”

As you pull back, you see him staring down at you rather intensely. Your eyes follow his gaze. The shirt you were wearing— One of Rinne’s t-shirts, actually— had slipped past your shoulder, exposing your collarbone.

Oh.

Nothing was said for the next few minutes. Only actions existed between you two for this moment. It was a silent agreement as Rinne undresses you like he was unwrapping a delicate package. Once your shirt and any other clothing you were wearing were out of the way, he makes quick work of his undershirt. Rinne keeps his boxers on as he was much too excited to get started on you. He pushes you gently back down onto the bed where you were just dozing off moments ago.

Rinne runs his hands up and down your sides, admiring the view he had of you below him. He was captivated by the way the light shines through the curtains to brush and caress your body in the same way he was doing right now. His face glows with his soft, love drunk expression, lowering his head to give you the nth kiss of the morning. His lips drift from your lips down to your neck and down your body.

He leaves no patch of skin untouched. He relishes in each soft gasp he can pull out of you. Each time he feels your skin pebble to goosebumps, he chuckles and nuzzles his face into that spot a little more.

You merely lie against the pillows and sheets and watch him, one of his hands holding yours with your fingers intertwined. He had already brought you breakfast (which still lay untouched due to this small distraction), but he refused to have you lift a finger. Your one year anniversary might have ended when you both slept, but he couldn’t help but want to treat his lover a little more.

“Hmngh…”

Your eyes flutter as his tongue lavishes itself against your hole. Through half-lidded eyes, you catch a glimpse of him staring up at you like you were heaven sent. His own eyes close eventually as he focuses all his efforts into pleasuring you. Your legs instinctively find their way over his broad shoulders and he moves his hands to hold onto your waist gently. 

One of his long fingers makes its way into your hole. Curling and gently caressing you from within, his mouth finds its own rhythm against your sex. Rinne lets out a small mouth of his own, clearly deriving pleasure from this act alone. The vibrations send waves of pleasure up your spine as you try and stop yourself from grinding against his face. He’s not going particularly fast. His tongue moves at a languid pace and he’s taking his time with adding another finger into your eager hole. But he knew every spot that made your body want to keen and whine for him. He’s explored enough that the actions were second nature to him.

Your head falls back against the pillows, softly moaning as your lover holds you right where he wants you. The sleepy daze that was clouding your mind was replaced with the wondrous haze of pleasure. Your hips raise ever so slightly into Rinne’s touch and his grip on your waist tightens. His movements speed up slightly to draw out more noises from you.

You just barely manage to raise your head and see his piercing blue eyes glued to your form.

“Rinne~” Your voice still had the slight morning rasp. Now it was mixed in with your needy whines.

“Yes, honey bee?” He pulls away, the signature smirk you’ve grown to love plasters itself on his face.

For a moment, you just lie there— panting softly. You can’t seem to speak, mind already starting to numb from the gentle but constant drum of pleasure flowing through you.His free hand continues to caress your sides while the fingers inside of you move in and out at a moderate pace. The only sounds filling the room.

He watches your mouth open and shut a couple times. His fingers continue to speed up as he finds your speechless expression all too precious to stop. He doesn’t even want to speak so as to not interrupt the chorus of sweet noises that tumble from your lips.

The way the light shines from behind him makes him appear to have a slight golden outline. Like a little halo of light. Your vision blurs for a moment as you feel your orgasm approach quickly. You try and get your bearings, hand reaching for the one holding your waist. You don’t last long before you feel the pleasure release from your body. You tense for a moment, clenching yourself around Rinne’s fingers, before relaxing back down onto the bed.

Rinne lets out a low whistle and retracts his fingers from your hole. He even makes a show of kissing your sex as if to thank you for the wonderful display you’ve put on for him. You whimper at the emptiness, breathing deeply to calm yourself.

You watch as he frees his cock from his boxers. The way his hand strokes himself up and down was a delicious sight. There was no need for him to even do that considering how hard he was.

“Babe~”

He kisses you again to bring you out of your stupor. “You okay? Can I put it in… please?” He asks so gently, but you could feel the slight strain behind his words.

You look down and see his dick already rubbing against your awaiting hole. The sight alone made you want more.

“I’m okay.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Go ahead, Rinne~”

Rinne pushes himself into your hole the second you give him the okay. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs and he lets out a guttural moan.

“Shit- You feel so fucking good.” He sucks in a harsh breath. It takes him all the concentration in the world to not pound you into the mattress and let you both get a second to adjust to each other.

Your lips make contact with his throat as he wraps his arms around you. He didn’t care if you left hickeys. In fact, he invited it. His eyes roll upward as you suck on his pale skin and he gave a few shallow thrusts before finding a good pace.

He went slow. In comparison to his usual harsh, eye watering pace, Rinne was going slow. He wanted to savour this moment with you. And it felt just as good.

His pace makes you feel each and every inch leaving and entering you and you find yourself back in that pleasure induced daze from earlier. You kiss and nip at his neck and collarbone, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers rub circles into your back. Your legs hook around his waist to draw him closer.

“I’m so lucky.” His voice is husky as he mutters those words into your ear. “I’m so lucky to be yours. That you let me be yours.” He speeds up slightly. His dick is throbbing inside of you.

“I’m yours too, Rinne.” You whimper, an overwhelming feeling of care and pleasure mixing together inside of you.

His hips smack against yours delightfully, speeding up as time went on. There are no more words exchanged. Just moans and cries of pleasure.

Rinne has reached his boiling point. He lets go of your body in favour of bracing himself against the mattress with one hand. His other hand collects your wrists and holds them above your head as he leans forward. He uses his own body weight to get you into a mating press— the angle making his dick drive deeper into you.

His usual pace was back.

You cry out as his cock flies in and out of you, the pressure of an orgasm bubbling inside of your abdomen once again. Through bleary eyes, you see him dip his head down. You can hear him groaning and growling by your ear. Rinne was drowning in the same overwhelming pleasure and emotions as you were. 

“I love you, my honey bee.”

A deep thrust burying his cock as deep as it would go in you punctuates each word.

You couldn’t even respond before you are overtaken by the force of your climax. You shudder against his sturdy body as you are thrown into clear bliss. The immense amount of pleasure runs through you in waves and you find yourself clenching around him more than expected.

Rinne lets out beautiful— damn near melodic— breathy moans himself. A couple more deep thrusts and he is holding you in place as his cum fills your hole. He gives a few shallow thrusts before he stops, pulling you on top of him.

You and him lie there, skin to skin and catching your breaths. His fingers move to stroke your hair.

A soft smile appears on his face as he hears your quiet voice.

“I love you too, Rinne.”

#Minty's Musings #Minty's Writing #esxreadernsfwmonth2023 #ensemble stars smut #nsft es!! #enstars x reader smut #rinne amagi x reader #rinne amagi x reader smut #rinne amagi smut #happy end of mayy whoooh #soft rinne amagi my beloved #im so normal (insane) about the king bee himself #if you see any typos no you didnt #i was gonna proofread but then i got sick okay

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

Of Dice and Sin

Mammon x GN! reader :)

Summary: Mammon loses his lucky dice and you decide to help him with his little dilemma.

No warnings or anything, so enjoy!

Mammon dug through his closet for a third time, tossing out any clothes he’d missed the first two times, turning them inside out in his frantic search. 

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Turning around he kicks the nearest piles of clothes in frustration. His eyes catch the two couches in this room, and bolts towards them, deciding to ransack the couch furthest from him. Mammon hastily throws the pillows to the ground, and yanked the cushions out of their spots haphazardly. Coming up empty handed at the immediate couch, he rushes around his coffee table to the other one. He flings the pillows aside and his fingers grip the cushions once more about to tear them off.

“Mammon?” The second born jumps from the sudden intrusion, recognizing the voice instantly. He turns his head to acknowledge your presence before returning to his task. 

“Have ya ever heard of knockin’? The hell do ya want anyway, The Great Mammon’s a little busy at the moment.” You hardly stifle a chuckle at his greeting. 

“Mammon, you never knock when you come to my room.” Mammon momentarily freezes, caught up in the hypocrisy of his words. He’s glad he’s turned away from you so you can’t see his face light up in embarrassment. 

“Yeah, well you should be grateful that The Great Mammon even visits ya in the first place!” Mammon retorts as he sloppily places the cushions back on the couch, flopping himself down in rejection. 

“So, what’s going on?” You walked over to the opposing couch, picking up one of the cushions on the way to place it back where it belongs, before taking a seat. Mammon lifted his head to look at you. 

“I lost m’lucky dice.” 

“...You have lucky dice?” 

Mammon’s whole body shot off the couch, a hand flailing wildly in emphasis. “Yes! They were specially enchanted to give the owner extra luck! And by luck, I mean they automatically roll on the numbers I need. It’s how I win my games at the casino!” 

You hummed and nodded at his explanation. “I think our definitions of luck and cheating are wildly different… Anyways, how’d you even get a hold of them in the first place, Mammon?” 

“I owed a witch a favor and after helpin’ her out, she gave me those dice.” Mammon flopped back on the couch once again. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his disheveled locks. “And now I can’t find ‘em.” 

You pursed your lips in thought. You felt bad for the greedy demon, maybe there was something you could do. You jumped up from his couch, before quickly making your way to the door. Mammon’s eyes trailed your figure in confusion. 

“Where ya goin’? Ya just got here.” 

You turned around as your hand made contact with the doorknob. “And now I’m just leaving.” You gave him a playful smirk before heading out the door. 

“Fine, didn’t want ya to stay anyway!” Mammon called out as the door closed. His eyes shifted blankly to the coffee table in front of him. Now he was without his dice and he was without you. What a lousy day. 

-

It had been a week without his lucky dice, and Mammon had been feeling the effects like withdrawal. He hadn’t won a single bet or game at the casino, which put him in substantially more debt and substantially more trouble with Lucifer. 

Last night he had made the brave decision to not go and gamble until he either found his lucky dice or came up with another pair altogether. And he got right to looking in his bed as he wallowed in self-pity. And on top of that you hadn’t hung around him much since the day he’d told you about his dice. Anytime he’d suggested the two of you do something together, you would sputter out some excuse as to not hang out before hurrying past him. What the hell was all that about? 

A knock rapped on his door, causing Mammon to jolt out of his thoughts. 

“Go away! I don’t need anyone botherin’ me right now!” The door knob turned regardless, and Mammon pulled his head out of the covers to yell at whoever was interrupting his exclusive pity party. The door slowly opened as you popped your head into his room. 

“Hey.” You fully made your way inside before closing the door and walking to stand by Mammon’s bed. 

Mammon looked at you astounded. You had went M.I.A. for a week and the first thing you say to him is ‘hey?’ The nerve of his human! You were going to get an earful, before you presented Mammon a small gift wrapped box, no bigger than a ring box. His eyes carefully studied the box in your hand, returning to your expectant gaze. 

“What’s that for? If ya think you can be forgiven with a measly little present like that, then you really are a stupid human.” 

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Look I know that I haven’t been around you this whole week, but it’s for good reason. Now will you just take the box and shut up?” You reach your hand out a little more to coax Mammon to take the box. It works. He rips the wrapping off the box and opens it, eyes widening at what’s inside. 

Two dice sit inside of the box, both a different color. 

“They’re lucky dice. I’ve been having Solomon help me out with the enchantment all week, and that’s why I haven’t been able to hang out with you. I also didn’t want to accidentally spoil the surprise, so that’s another reason. I hope you like them.” 

Mammon looks up to you, mouth agape at the sweet gesture. “You did all this for me?” 

You smiled and nodded. Mammon closed the lid on the box before pulling you down on his bed, tackling you in a tight hug. He had missed his lucky dice, but he had missed you more during what felt like an eternity. He hated not having you around. But it certainly was all forgiven knowing the reason why. Mammon lifted his head off of you wanting to ask yet another question.

“Why are the dice different colors?” He thought back to the one yellow and one blue dice that were sat in the box. 

“They’re the colors in your eyes.” You gazed up into the very inspiration for the dice with a soft smile, making Mammon fluster. You took this moment to initiate a gentle kiss, ending just as quickly as it began. As Mammon regained his bearings, he shook his head with a chuckle. 

“Nu-uh, that wasn’t nearly enough. If yer really sorry for abandonin’ me for a week, you’ll give me more kisses.” You giggled and obliged him, giving him all the kisses he wanted. Mammon didn’t consider himself lucky for having his fancy dice, he considered himself lucky to have you by his side. 

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me scenarios #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #obey me reader insert #obey me mc #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #jo writes

[afreakingdork]

Above Table

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Warnings/Tags: General Audience Rating, Secret Crush, Love, Love Confessions, Confessions, Characters Play Dungeons & Dragons, Dungeons & Dragons References

Synopsis:  Donnie always took the game too seriously. That's why when his sorcerer is fatally injured, you come to find that he he's been harboring something that far exceeds the game.

Also avaliable on Ao3

Huge shout out to @kathaynesart 's Dungeons and Drama pitch and my darling DM for always inspiring me with incredible content! 💞

The dice clattered and rolled across the table as a collective breath was held.

As it stopped, Donnie scrambled through his various stacks of notes. The flustered rush caused them to cascade across the table. Each found purchase by the other players, but no one of them moved to help return them.

“I can-!” Donnie choked on the idea as his spell sheet crumpled underhand.   

Unable to see the dice from behind his screen, Mikey had to stand before he sullenly slunk back down to record the roll. “That’s a two…” 

April moved next and offered a weakened smile. “At least you still have one more to go, right?”

You couldn’t take in Donnie’s response as you stared down at your own worn character sheet. The egregious zero you had doodled out after marking out the last of your healing HP glared back. You sent a meek look towards the perpetrator.

“Yeah, yeah, Donald rolls on his next turn.” Leo hadn’t noticed you or anyone else. He simply waved off the doomed aura of the table with his eyes glued to his phone.

“Leo!” Raph scolded.

“Pay attention, fool! That was his second death-saving throw! If he fails the next one, aka the last one, then he’s dead dead!” April shot to her feet and used the momentum to slap Leo’s phone straight down onto the table.

The indignity at the action caused the words to click in the slider’s mind. “Wait what?”

 “There’s… nothing we can do?” Raph turned to Mikey.

From behind his DM partition, the box turtle grimaced. “Uh… so you and Leo are too far after the cliff situation. April’s attacks missed and she closed out her turn by moving towards you guys. Y/N had the healing juices once, but… again, cliff.”

It wasn’t intentional on anyone’s part, but you took it as a painful reminder of your failings.

“So this is happening all because you had to swing from that vine!?” Raph turned his worries into vengeance and zeroed it in on Leo.

“I thought I could jump on the dude’s back!” Leo folded his arms as if he couldn’t be swayed on the matter. 

You knew how reckless Leo’s bard was. It was you who used all the HP from your pool instead of reserving some for a case like this.

Raph tried to match it with a glare, but Leo’s stubbornness won out. “Potions… Potions! W-we had potions, didn’t we guys?” In an attempt to snatch up his inventory sheet, Raph knocked his dice clean off the table.

From where he was once a boiling pit of nervous lava, Donnie had shifted to a chasm of ice. “I won’t allow retroactive moves.”

April rolled her eyes away from the soft shell to watch the way the snapper bumped the table as he tried to gather his bobbles back up. “It doesn’t matter anyway; Leo used his eating that green sludge in the cave. Raph, I think you used yours when we fought the Cloakers on the sky ship and I… didn’t pick any up from the merchant because I didn’t trust the way that fool sang. Y/N whatcya got?”

“I gave my last one to that raccoon when it got injured during the communion with the deity.” You sighed, slinking further down into your seat of failures.

Set back once again, Raph’s little mumbles were the only sound.

“I just thought…” Mikey murmured under the pressure of silence and tried to sneak a glance at Donnie.

“Thought what?” Donnie gave an chilled hiss. “That you would destroy your established enemy curve on a whim? How very on brand.”

Mikey jolted with a bitterness stinging his eyes. “Well, excuse me! I was just trying to make sure you were having fun since it seemed too easy for you!”  

“I was having fun because I was winning!” Donnie growled and slapped his spell sheet back to the table. “And now…”

“Got ‘em!” Raph popped up and took in the air. “Oh…”  

It also seemed cruel that none of them seemed to acknowledge that this stemmed from you. It was your whole paladin’s identity to help the team in any way possible. You were supposed to be the shield and the failsafe. Now, there was an ever growing chance that you’d never see Donnie’s sorcerer again.

From where you were wringing your hands in your lap, you squeezed your fingers until they stung from the force.

April gave a sigh. “Let’s just...” She gave a long once over the group and the brothers settled indignantly into their seats. “Priorities! The real issue is The Reaper is about to go.”

“… And he’s still targeting Donnie.” You mumbled nervously. You tried to reason that it was totally normal and not biased that you knew that since April had mostly kept track of potions.

“How’s that work again?” Leo held up a hand as if he were whispering to April though he used his regular voice.  

She placed a fingertip to the appendage and gently pushed it until it squashed back into the slider’s face. “I’m banning phones if this keeps up!”

“You have no authority!” Leo threw a finger out at Mikey in demonstration.

The box turtle opened his mouth to respond.

“But you can’t because that’s where my sheet is!” Leo sang the phrase out and scooped up his phone to snuggle preciously to his chest.  

April rolled her eyes. “This is the last time I’m catching you up! Donnie’s the only one that’s managed to hit the guy and he’s been agroing him ever since.”

There wasn’t enough room for hope to bloom in your chest, but if April caught that then your observation was absolutely in the clear. You squirmed in your seat as you tried to deal with the concurrent thoughts you had on the matter. It had to be nothing but the usual intrigue and guilt that was making you obsess over the soft shell.

“But isn’t he like… bleeding out or something? Why’s he want to beat a dead horse?” Leo twisted out of one display for another that mimicked a dying blow and subsequent collapse. He side eyed Donnie the whole way down to the table.  

Donnie bared his teeth, but before he could say anything, Mikey spoke.

“Actually…” Mikey stamped a sticky note with a halo on it right to his forehead. “Y/N goes next.”

Still wriggling, you halted as the attention rounded on you. You winced with a question on your lips; Donnie despised how you verbally talked out your plans. “Uh… Okay… I was… how far from whoever?”

“Let’s see!” Mikey chirped and ducked out of sight.

You felt a sense of déjà vu.

More sessions ago than you could count, April had invited you to join a this very D&D. After meeting her at a pro-mutant rights rally on campus, you’d chatted over coffee afterwards and shared your other mutual interests. She’d been playing far longer than you and you bemoaned your lack of experience. She’d had an odd look on her face before she softly mentioned how she’d be helping out a newbie DM start a new campaign. You tried to temper your excitement as she explained how accessible the affair would be for what was essentially a first time player such as yourself.

You’d followed April down some old subway entrance that next week with immediate wariness. The space transformed from dreary to homey in an odd shift that felt like entering another world. She had stopped at a large wooden table where a set green heads in colored bandanas were parked. In quick succession, you were introduced to the brothers with Donatello being last. It was a moment that stuck out to you with a painful prick. You weren’t sure what you had done, but he took one surprised look at you before coldly introducing himself by his sorcerer ’s name. April smacked the back of his head and explained that he took the role-playing aspect a bit too seriously.   

She then sat you across from him and ever since it had become your assigned seat. With each session, the lot of you strengthened your bond as you fought back corruption and greater evil. That was, all except the soft shell who seemed to be glaring at you at any given moment. He harshly judged every creative strategy you tried to employ. His sorcerer was constantly either using you as bait or a test subject for unknown items that he picked up. You carried on, both because of your paladin’s shining disposition and because he was extremely good at the game.

Despite his attitude, you often found yourself in awe of how easily he could recall the intricacies of every single person’s spells, attacks, and bonus actions. He was theatrical to a fault and his monologues easily hypnotized you when he was given a chance to shine. Though he often interfered with the rest of the party to ensure he’d make the killing blow, the loop holes he’d exploit made it so watching him was like being in the presence of a master craftsmen. It made complete sense why he’d been banned from DMing, but it was also something you wished you could go back in time to see. It was unfortunate he loved getting in his own way so much.

Your eyes lit up.

Mikey reappeared before you could voice what was forming in your head. “Alright, so Leo and Raph are like 200 ft. away from you. April is 150. The Reaper is still airborne, but has been coming down so let’s say 60 with Donnie’s wounded body at 50 because you’ve been heading towards him since he collapsed.”

Donnie clicked his tongue.

You gave him a tepid scowl. He was so infuriatingly petty. “I get it! Despite how much your character hates mine, my paladin is compelled to help whoever is hurt!” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to defend your character’s actions, but across from you Donnie refused your gaze to instead bore holes into Mikey’s screen. “I’m going to Donnie’s sorcerer and I want to do a medicine check.”  

There was a collective hiss as almost everyone sucked a sharp whiff of air through their teeth.

“Uh…” Raph anxiously reached out before retracting his fingers.

Leo leaned into the snapper with a crazed face and a harsh whisper. “Do you still want to complain about my vine swing?!”

“Y/N…” April was barely able to mask her wince with a broke smile. “That won’t…”

Donnie moved to collect his papers.

“I have to. It’s all I can do.” You turned to Mikey and gave him a nod to go ahead.

Mikey gave a sympathetic look and gestured for you to roll.

With a clack, you double checked your sheet. “21.”

Mikey made a note and then gave a grave look. “You run to the sorcerer’s fallen form as The Reaper looms overhead. Blackened wing flaps echo as he draws closer and closer. You drop to your knees and put your hand to the sorcerer’s chest. His clothes are singed away and you feel nothing from his cold form. You know his wound is magical in origin and, even though you reach as deep as you can, there just isn’t any magic left within you…”

“Y/N, you’re in The Reaper’s attack line…” April gave you a small reminder.

Looking at the abysmal amount of HP you had left, you used a chip bag to cover the number up. “I want to stand over his body and shield him.”

Donnie smacked his gathered stack of notes harshly against the table to align them.

Mikey sunk down, defeated. “The Reaper lands with a billowing gust of wind and a scythe of bone slowly protrudes from his arm. Swinging it around to attention, black ichor spatters the area from where it oozes off the weapon. He then rears back to strike…”

Within two moves your HP drops to zero and the table ignited. The sound barely reached your ear as you numbly brushed the snacks away to note that. You heard April’s turn happen and her desperately shouting something. The commotion was confusing static and you lifted your eye to look across from you. You assumed Donnie would still be giving you his icy shoulder, but instead you found him staring at you evenly. It didn’t shake you out of your funk, but you surfaced long enough to part your lips to translate a silent question. He took it in with a flick of his eyes, but chose to watch you until something brought his eye to the head of the table.

“Alright, Donnie! You got this!” Mikey was on his feet.

The lair rushed back to you and you realized everyone else had gotten to theirs as well.

Palming his dice, Donnie took a deep breath before letting it cascade off his palm and down his fingers. It rolled against the baited breath and rocked as it landed.

Leo gave a pained screech.

You tried to remind yourself that you did all you could to rectify your wrong.

“You find yourself floating in a broken land…” Mikey addressed Donnie with energy waning within each word. “You know this to be the Astral Plane…” 

Leo draped himself over April and gave a synthetic sob. “I’m writing an ode to him as we speak! It should have been me!”

“Come on, dude…” Raph huffed.

“Literally didn’t even realize he was dying two seconds ago.” April pinched Leo’s forearm.

“You know you are not long for this world either. Do you want to reach out to your gods or ask the questions you’ve always sought?” Mikey continued on as if unaware.

“I reach against the veil to the paladin.” Donnie responded without hesitation.

You snapped to attention and wildly searched him.

He ignored you to wait for Mikey’s response.

Following his gaze, you moved to catch the last moments of surprise pass over the box turtle’s face before he gave a sad, but understanding smile.

“Y/N.” Mikey turned to you.

“Yeah?” You whispered and came to realize that the other conversations had halted in favor of watching the exchange.

“Everything is dark and you are somewhere in-between. You haven’t felt anything since The Reaper’s blade pierced you, but now you sense a familiar presence ghosting over you.”

“What…?” You searched your tablemates to find all but Donnie just as confused as you.

“Roll a D20 for me.” Mikey gave you a reassuring bob. You didn’t miss the mischievous air to it.

Your hands felt heavy against the small bobble as you gave it a little shake before casting it out. “18.”

Mikey nodded, his eyes down to whatever pages he had behind his partition. “You know it to be the sorcerer who has been by your side for many moons. You cannot see or hear him, but your eyes widen as some of his knowledge enters your mind.”

A piece of paper slid across the table.

The fingers on the edge of it trailed back to Donnie who wore a troubled frown and refused your eye.

You leaned forward to look and he gave it a shove. The page then delicately floated until it landed perfectly in front of you.

“Read paragraph 3 to yourself.” His voice had a calculated stillness to it.

Still lost, you gave him one last look.

He continued to deny it, but you caught how his expression had shifted with a tinge of pain.

Looking down at the paper, you immediately identified it as Donnie’s backstory. He’d touted its length but hid its direct content many times since the game started. The gazes on you heated up in a way that said you’d be the first to see it. You swallowed hard as you picked up the page. Counting down as instructed, you started at the third indentation:

“He never imagined much past his plans for global conquest. Knowing knowledge would be the key, he planned his whole life based on this pursuit. He would think very little of the paladin that he’d be forced to party with. They were too selfless and had sworn an oath that he would make a mockery of. All that changed, when they smiled and introduced themselves. The emotion he’d felt in that moment would pain him and he didn’t know then what it meant. He’d secretly tried to dispel any sorcery, thinking something was cast. As time went on, he’d try to remind himself that the paladin was everything he hated; the exact opposite of his type. They were dumb and easily fell for the most ridiculous schemes. They were too happy and smiled even under the worst circumstances. They were kind to a fault and  haplessly threw themselves in harm’s way to protect the other members of what he begrudgingly considered his family. He had a goal, a larger purpose. He didn’t have time to give in to petty things like feelings. Still, they wormed their way in. With a heavy heart, the day he acknowledged his love for the paladin was also the day he decided it would be best to carry that emotion secretly until his dying breath. He would not believe himself worthy of their love.”

The paper felt both too heavy and too light. You worried if you moved at all that it would simply cease to exist. Scouring back over the paragraph, you tried to figure out when he had written this. There was no way he could have known this from the get go. He’d come to session zero with his stack already transcribed.

Eyes watering from disuse, you attempted to blink.

The writing was typed out which meant Donnie must have updated it. He had clearly been adding the contents from each consecutive meeting. It was just vague enough, but a reel of actions outside the game cycled through your mind and seemed to parallel the text.

You remembered the shame that burned in your cheeks the day Leo had gotten you by saying the word gullible was written on the ceiling. It had only been matched by the humiliation you’d felt when your paladin had been obviously duped into buying a cursed piece of armor.  

You recalled the day you’d arrived to a session having plastered a smile after being present during a bodega robbery. It clipped with the time your paladin had been hit with Moan, but maintained a grin for the party’s sake.

You hadn’t forgotten the day you’d mistakenly stumbled upon the brothers mid-battle and had thrown yourself in Raph’s defense after he’d been struck. It easily contrasted the any number of times you’d used Interception in player combat.

It all felt so surreal. The sea of coincidences barely tipped the scales from where you thought you it was just your imagination. In a crawl, your gaze lifted from the page to the soft shell that had passed it to you. His eye was still shoved to the side, but he now wore guarded expression that screamed a preparation for rejection.

Shifting away from a dazed watering, your vision now blurred with further realization.

He was the stupid one.

He was the one that got swept up in his excitement.

He was the one trying to be self-sacrificial.  

The first fat tear formed in your left eye and threatened its plummet. You put the paper back down on the table and as soon as you did, you heard Donnie’s voice.

“I let go.”

Mikey began to talk, but your chair clattered to the ground as you shot up.

“You can’t!” It wasn’t a single droplet, but a dozen that flooded your cheeks in a stream.

Someone gasped.

“I’ve done all I’ve ever wanted.” Though his voice was even and you could barely see him, you could tell Donnie’s expression was wounded. He’d accepted a multitude of fates.  

“No!” You were already rounding the table.

In a counter move, Donnie flew to his feet, ready to sprint.

“Stop!” Mikey commanded, a sharp spark of orange energy crackled through the air.

You both complied.

“Y/N, roll your last two saving throws. Now.” Mikey tossed a D20 at you instead of letting you walk back to your spot.

“But-” Leo choked on the syllable as a chain wrapped around his mouth.

“Now? Mikey, it’s not my-” You tried to reason but the zip of golden hue around Mikey’s pupil throttled your voice. You stared down at the table helplessly and rolled. “6… and 3…”

In stark contrast to his previous tone, Mikey’s watery voice reached your ears. “You find yourself floating in a broken land…”

It was like hearing a starting signal and you shot around the table. Donnie flinched as you stalked up to him. You stopped just short and he stared back at you with impossibly wide eyes.

“Did you mean it?”

“I play the game as it is meant to be played; a full immersion of oneself.”

“No!” You snapped and he shuddered again. “Above table! Did you mean it?”

His cheek hollowed out as he took a sharp breath and he forced his mouth into a tight line. For a moment, he tried to look everywhere but you before the reality of the situation seemed to sink in. His body language said he was still put out and he spoke out the corner of his mouth. “In my zeal, there is a chance I committed to the part a little too well.”

“Idiot.”

“Hey-!” The insult died on his lips as he saw a new river of tears rushing down your cheeks.

“Stupid! Dummy! Jerk!” You reached up as if you were going to swing, but he caught your wrists.

He leaned in close and dropped his voice for only you to hear. “Fine. Yes, you’re right, and, as much as it pains me to say this, we are not actually alone in the astral plane right now.”

“You’re dead…” You hiccupped and he released you.

“I am…” He mumbled in a way that spoke to the many volumes that simple phrase had before stepping forward. It just barely allowed your head to touch the pointed edge at the breast of his plastron. You resisted the urge to collapse into him and shook slightly as the last of the tears were ripped from you. One of his arms slung around your back and the tense muscles you felt said he was holding back more than he let on. He cleared his throat and you felt him straighten. “The… game, yeah that’s it, the game was quite a lot for Y/N. I’m going to take them to the kitchen to make some tea.”

You wormed an arm out of view and pinched him.

He put on a smile to hide the wince.

“You got it!” Mikey gave a chipper wink and then clapped his hands to gather attention. “Alright, we’re still in initiative people!” 

“Are you kidding me right now!? I’m just gonna swing my lute at a literal death god after watching whatever that was!?” Leo gaped.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Mikey shrugged as if that were obvious and rolled his dice.

Fading  counter murmurs argued as Donnie’s arm tightened the further away you got.

💜Don't forget there's always behind the scenes notes and WIPs going up on the membership side of my ko-fi!💜 

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[landofzero-archive]

Battle on the Sugoroku Board - God Won’t Roll The Dice 8

(Location: “Battle on the Sugoroku Board” program set)

Ibara: Is everyone familiar with the “Keynesian beauty contest?”

Yuuta: ………?

Ibara: Well, it has nothing to do with idols, so you wouldn’t know it.

It’s an analogy for the stock market. In the financial market, the value of a company—its stock price, is determined not by its performance or financial soundness, but by its popularity.

A contest where a vote is held to determine the most beautiful woman out of 100 participants, and a prize will be given to the person who votes for first place—

—When gambling on something like this, voters vote not for the woman they think is beautiful, but for the person they think is beautiful on average.

That’s what we call the Keynesian beauty contest.

If the Keynesian beauty contest were held in “Battle on the Sugoroku Board,” the popularity would probably be shared between the NewDi and CosPro teams.

Popularity has nothing to do with determining who wins or loses “Battle on the Sugoroku Board”…… But it is a consequence of it.

That’s why NETV is trying to let the idols from weaker agencies win, correct?

So they can gamble behind the scenes and profit greatly from the stakes.

Rinne: Oi…… Are we the targets of gambling!?

I’d rather join their side!!

Yuuta: This gambling addict is a worthless adult.

Rinne: Whaddya mean “worthless adult.” You have a weird way of speaking, don’t you.

But that doesn’t explain it. It’s true if an unpopular idol wins, they’ll make a lot of money.

Arashi: Natsume-chan said that may be why they brought in a shady director.

It’s been a while since he last worked. He couldn’t turn down the opportunity to produce a program, right?

Madara: As a result, he couldn’t escape from this evil deed.

However, NETV is a company that distributes programs overseas, so it’s not illegal is it?

Natsume: YeS. The headquarters is located in areas where gambling is legAL. In other worDS, what we’re trying to do is a matter of feeliNGS.

A matter of feelings—nO. It might be more accurate to call it a moral issUE.

Don’t involve us in that shitty “stagING.”

Don’t look down on idOLS.

…… Just for thAT, we’re fighting togethER.

Naturally, this’ll be a blow to those invested in NETV, like Ibara-kUN.

But you don't just see idols as pawns for your businesses, riGHT?

You just want to make monEY, I’m sure there’s better jobs out theRE.

Ibara: Hmm. Are you trying to appeal to compassion?

If they’re not breaking the law, then I have no obligation to cooperate.

In fact, if the company I’m invested in is trying to make money like that, then, from a manager’s perspective, I’m in luck♪

Rinne: …… Oi.

Ibara: Oh! Don’t lose your temper!

Stable management also means that they can invest in the entertainment industry, where you don’t know whether it’ll hit or miss.

Profits are important for keeping idols alive when their asses are on the line.

In fact, because of this, no-name idols are being used. That fact is unshakable.

Natsume: I didn’t think you were that heartlESS. Negotiations have broken down— it looks like the NewDi team has no choice but to try our beST.

Ibara: Make no mistake, I’m not saying we won’t cooperate.

I merely told you the facts. There’s a strong will to fight together—but simply fighting together won’t solve this problem.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If you’re hit with capital, you can fight back with capital. That’s how society fights.

If the gambling house is open for us, it’s a matter of joining the table.

For example, raising the bet—what if we raised the stakes?

Rinne: Raising the…… Heh, I getcha. We’re in for a do-or-die game.

Arashi: Don’t use gambling as an example. We’re still students, aren’t we?

Yuuta: Please explain more clearly, vice prez.

Ibara: Yes, yes. Don’t worry!

This is just a hypothetical. Do you know what would happen if a bet was being held in front of you, and the person you were betting on won via match-fixing?

You know that only those who know about the match-fixing will benefit immensely, right?

So, what if that match-fixing doesn’t work, and you fail?

Those who know about the match-fixing will be wiped out. The risk and return of match-fixing are balanced because the underdog targets win.

In other words, you do two things. Stop the match-fixing, and then bet big on another candidate.

We’re going to take back the match-fixing. I have a vision in my mind of everyone involved going out onto the streets, and they’d bet so much money that they would win that they’ll consider CosPro a threat!

If we do that, they’ll never gamble again. …… What do you all think? It’ll be quite enjoyable♪

Natsume: …… I’m stunnED. I wasn’t telling you to go that fAR.

Ibara: Ahaha! That’s what it means to make an enemy out of me♪

Philanthropy! Fraternity! Benevolence!

A loving punishment for those who trampled on their love for idols……☆

Yuuta: Huh, your catchphrase changed!?

Ibara: I don’t know what you’re talking about? I’ve always had a love for idols?

Yuuta: Scaryyy…… This person’s really troublesome to make an enemy out of, huh.

Madara: I’ve accepted things like that up until now, so I think it’s fine to do whatever you like.

But, that gambling place—it’s open in secret and seems impossible to enter.

Even if it’s not a real place, but an online one.

Ibara: Well, I guess I’ll have to look into that now.

In order to ensure the fairness of the gambling, this program is probably broadcast in real time on a site that can’t be accessed from within Japan.

In fact, its real-time nature will support our plans. We can delay the response.

If we ask the complicit production director for information about the gambling parlour, he’ll tell us right away.

He seems to be talented, and just like Natsume-kun, he’s someone who just wants to make a “good program”—

“Staging” may also be accepted as part of the production.

This program, like NETV, is not pandering to existing forces. They want a program that supports the underdog…… And I think I can persuade them to do something like that.

And so, first, we contact His Majesty, who seems to be close to the staff.

If he can back it up, it’ll be the beginnings of a fun show���

Let’s follow the example of Natsume-kun’s beloved Hibiki-shi and make it a fun event for us too!

Natsume: HmM, what kind of cruel drama (Grand Guignol)(1) are you planniNG? If you’re going to use Nii-san as a reference, you should be planning a comeDY.

Just don’t let your vice flourish. If you screw them, they’ll screw you baCK—and on that one point I’ll agree with yOU.

TL Notes:

A Grand Guignol is a play of macabre or horrific nature.

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#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #ibara saegusa #rinne amagi #natsume sakasaki #madara mikejima #arashi narukami #yuta aoi #era: !! #type: event

[soapskneebrace]

Would they play D&D?

Most people would be surprised to find out that Captain Price is a forever DM if they didn’t know him. But he’s been playing since 3.5E, and while he doesn’t have much opportunity to play anymore, it wouldn’t be hard to convince him to sit down for a session if he had the time. He’d usually choose to play pre-written modules, but tweak them as he’d see fit. He misses it a lot. However, he will never—repeat for emphasis, NEVER—DM a game for the 141 ever again.

Laswell played with Price a couple times before the job took over both their lives. And actually, Laswell and her wife both played, mostly because the Mrs. batted her eyelashes and convinced Kate to try it out. Their minis, a half-elf ranger and a gnome druid, still sit on a shelf at home cuddling romantically. Laswell knows why Price won’t DM for the 141 from his own firsthand account, but was not there for the catastrophe.

The first time Alejandro played, it was because Rudy made a bet with him about something unrelated and won. Rudy used to play as a kid with some other children from his neighborhood, and he liked DMing partly for the power and partly because he’s always been a cinnamon roll who likes to make sure everyone has fun. Alejo meanwhile played a human fighter, because Rudy told him it was the easiest to play. Alejo fell in love instantly with the game, but none of Los Vaqueros ever have time.

Graves played a TON of D&D in high school but quit cold turkey right before enlisting. He is horribly embarrassed by it and will deny even knowing his old campaign buddies. Phil thinks that Real and True and Good soldiers don’t do cringe shit like that, because they’re doing the COOL shit in real life. He’s been meaning to throw away those dice for years, and keeps telling himself he could probably make ok money if he just sold them instead. He played a human paladin all the way up to level 20.

He likes D&D a lot, but Gaz actually prefers Blades in the Dark or Monster of the Week. He has a lot of opinions about the virtues of d6 gaming systems over what he thinks is an overly-complex ruleset that involves dice with so many goddamn sides, and really, D&D doesn’t support as large a variety of playing styles and—hey, where are you going?? Anyway, he likes to play tieflings, and vacillates between bard and sorcerer. (Also he secretly and desperately wants to play Honey Heist with the 141. Ever since That Fateful Night, he knows it will never happen. It continues to disappoint him.)

Ghost has played once. Only once. Soap convinced him, and by convinced I mean he annoyed Ghost about it into submission. And Ghost wants to play again, actually, but he will literally jump off a cliff before admitting it, because it was That Fateful Night when Price ran the session for 141 which would go down in history as the worst time Price has ever had including active combat. Ghost played a half-orc barbarian, and secretly read through the entire PHB the week leading up to the session.

And finally, and perhaps not surprisingly, Soap is the reason Price will never DM for the task force ever again. Soap is a rule of cool kind of man, plays dwarf and halfling barbarians almost exclusively, and is practically allergic to the PHB, which is ironic because he’s so FUCKING good at minmaxing. This clashes with Price’s very rules-lawyery DMing style, and Soap doesn’t know how to not pick a fight over dumb rules like having to roll survival checks when he wants to know what time it is in-game.

Soap was not, it should be said, actually trying to come to blows with Price—taking the piss out of people is a Scottish love language—but Price had been tired. Price had been on his last cigar. And Price already spent too much goddamn time with these men. The fourth time Soap declared that he wanted to do some especially dumb bullshit that he would absolutely need to make a cascade of d20 rolls for, Price just folded up his makeshift DM screen (a couple of manila folders) and hit the fucking bricks. No one brings up That Fateful Night, but no one will ever forget it.

Bonus: Valeria would shove any D&D player she ever met into a locker. And honestly, they should thank her for it.

#cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty mw22 #mw2 2022 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 imagine #cod:mw2 #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare 2 headcanons #mw2 #mwii #call of duty: modern warfare 2 #modern warfare imagine #cod imagine #incorrect call of duty #price #laswell #cw: graves #alejo #rudy #gaz #ghost #soap #valeria #og post