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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year ago

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Simmer #9

CH9. Simmer | The Menu 18+ [6K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

“We’re gonna be late.”

Your voice wasn’t much more than a high keen, a breathy thing that you managed to squeak out between Eddie’s kisses. You were at an awkward angle - not that you cared - leaning over the stick shift in the boy’s van to meet his lips. It was early, almost eight in the morning, your work day ready to start in only a few minutes. You weren’t even in uniform, not yet, still in a pair of worn jeans and one of Eddie’s stolen sweaters.

September had crept in without you knowing, the heat leaving town with every new morning. The skies were still blue, an endless stretch of it, the clouds still big and white. But the suffocating warmth gave way to cooler mornings and colder nights, the sun dipping behind the diner by seven in the evening and leaving the tables in navy shadows. It was nicer. It gave you an excuse to curl into Eddie on the nights you shared a bed.

Not that you needed one.

“What do you mean we?” Eddie laughed, the noise vibrating against your throat, his mouth pushed there in an affectionate kiss. He nosed at the skin along your jaw, stretched over the centre console so he could sneak a hand underneath the maroon sweater, fingers grazing your ribs. “I’m not workin’ until tonight.”

You whined at the reminder, a needy, frustrated noise because even though Eddie had spent the night at your apartment, you still hadn’t had your fill. It had been weeks of seeing each other - dating - letting the boy take you out like he’d promised, dinners and movies and walks and late night conversations that bled into sleepovers that were filled with kisses and tangled legs, shared pillows and new pieces of information about the boy that you collected like jewels.

Eddie Munson liked sleeping with the window open no matter what the weather.

Every Saturday morning, before the sun had really risen, Eddie drove to the next town over to a place called Duck’s Farm and bought all the fresh produce he could from a man called Mr Duffy. They shared a coffee and swapped recipes under the shade of the apple trees.

There were seven cats in the trailer park that Eddie fed every evening on his porch. Sushi, Mochi, Ramen, Cheeseburger, Toast, Nacho and Lasagna. Tiny plates full of kibble and leftover chicken beside a bowl of water and Eddie didn’t close the door until each cat had had their full and curled against his legs before hopping off into the night.

Eddie liked to press kisses to your cheek when you least expected. Awfully sweet things, making your throat thick with fondness, sticky in affection. He’d dot them over your skin, across the apple of your cheeks and towards your temple, one on your forehead when your head lay next to his on his pillow.

Eddie had an awful habit of insisting on driving you to work even when he had a day off or a chance to lie in, but then loved to make you late by pulling you into a soft kiss that turned into a make out session in the front of his van.

Eddie Munson made you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, an agonising thing that took up every waking thought.

It was lovely.

You hadn’t done more than kiss, albeit heated, all encompassing, hot and messy in the cradle of his lap, pressed against your apartment walls, the side of his van after work. But that’s as far as it had gone, for now.

For now.

“You’re awful,” you pretended to complain, titling your chin up so Eddie could kiss down your throat. “Leaving me all alone.”

The boy hummed, mouthing along your jaw until you were squirming, his big hand squeezed between the tops of your thighs as you pressed your legs around his fingers. “I know, m’the worst.” Another kiss, to the corner of your mouth. He still tasted like your toothpaste, the coffee you’d poured for him in your mug with the little fried eggs on it. “I’ll see you later, though. Bring you in something sweet, if that’ll keep me in the good books.”

You wanted to beam, you wanted to squeal. You wanted to scrabble into the boy’s lap and bury your face in the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see the effect he had on you. “You don’t have to,” is what you murmured instead. “It’s your afternoon off.”

Eddie nipped at your jaw, teeth grazing and making you jump. “I know I don’t have to,” he whispered back. He smoothed his love bite with a kiss. “But I wanna, that okay?”

You nodded, shy even after spending the night tucked into his side, his shirt in lieu of pyjamas, his sweater keeping you warm now. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Good,” Eddie grinned, smile matching yours although his seemed brighter, more lovely. “I’ll see you soon, don’t get any prettier, alright?”

You flushed hot and rolled your eyes to hide the way he’d got you flustered, gathering your bag as you opened the van door, leaning over to meet Eddie halfway. You hummed when his hand cupped your cheek, bringing you in for the fortieth kiss that morning, or at least there abouts. A longing thing, full of flirt and affection and built up tension. Then two short ones, lingering when you didn’t have time to, dots of Eddie’s lips on each cheek and then he was letting you go.

“Have a good day, sweetheart.”

You wanted to pout and tell him you couldn’t possibly without him, but that seemed a little pathetic even for your standards. So you smiled and told him to do the same, your bag heavy against your side, packed with your uniform and a flask of tomato and basil soup eddie had made the night before, complaining with a smile about how your knives weren’t sharp enough, your pots too small for his big hands.

—————

You were tying your apron when Chrissy caught you coming out the staff room, Eddie’s sweater swapped for your dress and you missed the smell of his cologne almost immediately.

“Was that Eddie? Dropping you off?” Chrissy asked sweetly. Her hair was down today, curly and she smelled like lavender. “That’s sweet.”

You didn’t trust yourself to talk around the girl, not even now, too worried your voice would come out too small, too weak, cracking down the middle with anxiety. For what reason, you weren’t really sure, but if you thought about it hard enough, the image of Chrissy lounging over Eddie’s workstation was still stuck in your head even weeks later.

“Mmm,” you hummed instead, smiling tightly as you both walked out through the kitchen and into the diner.

It was a quiet day, the lunch service was slow and Steve was talking to a girl in a summer camp T-shirt in the corner booth, grinning at her with pink cheeks and bright eyes. Jonathan was whistling along to the radio, scooping fresh beans into the coffee machine with one hand as he played hacky sack with Argyle through the kitchen hatch with the other.

It wasn’t until you were placing new cutlery on a recently cleaned table that you realised the girl was still lingering. Bubblegum snapping against peach tinted lips, Chrissy appraised you with a tilt of her head. “So, what’s Eddie doing today?”

“What?” You didn’t mean to sound so defensive, so snappy. But Chrissy sounded so sure and so confident with Eddie’s name in her mouth and it set your teeth on edge. “Uh, I’m, I’m not sure?”

“You’re not?” Chrissy pouted and pulled on a strawberry blonde curl. “You mean, you don’t know what your boyfriend is doing today?”

You placed the fork down a little too hard, the metal clattering against the table top, your chest a little too tight.

Chrissy leaned in, dainty fingers straightening it up for you. “He is your boyfriend, right?”

You didn’t know the answer to that. Eddie had called you his girl, a public declaration for sure, but since that day there hadn’t been anymore talk about relationship statuses. And between the sleepovers and dates and kisses and the rides to work, you hadn’t worried about it, didn't doubt it. But now, with Chrissy staring at you with an expectant smile on her lips, question after question came back. Insecurity flooded your head, your chest, your thoughts. Had you read too much into it? Was Eddie looking for something serious?

You thought back to Eddie’s words, what he liked to call you, hands on your hips, in your hair, lips on yours. Pretty girl, sweet girl, shy girl. And ‘my girl,’ you couldn’t forget that one. But the absence of the world ‘girlfriend’ seemed more apparent than ever in your relationship.

“I, uh— yeah? Yes.” You sounded so much more confident than you felt but the regret stabbed you sharp as soon as you let the words leave your lips.

Chrissy’s mouth curled up but it didn’t seem like a smile, not a particularly friendly one anyway. “Yes, he’s your boyfriend? Or yes, you don’t know what he’s doing today?”

You blinked, heat rising up your neck in a way that felt familiar. It felt like panic, like being tricked and trapped and suddenly you wished you could turn on your heel and scramble for the safety of the kitchen, the safety of Eddie’s arms. But for now, the walk-in might just have to do.

“Um. Uh, both?”

You didn’t hang around for more questioning. No, you dropped the cutlery and breezed past Mr Creel, ignoring the way he scowled at you over the rim of his coffee mug. And when you skittered into the kitchen, Argyle was dicing chicken and Steve was dumping empty plates into the sink. Both boys looked up as you burst in, surprised at your sudden appearance but you held your breath and smiled tightly before heading straight for the walk-in.

“Is everything oka—?” The door snapped shut before Steve could finish his sentence, but he reckoned that as long as you came out before your fingertips were blue, it wasn’t a concern.

That’s how the rest of the shift went, the afternoon clinging onto the last of the sunlight as it faded into evening and you tried your best to avoid Chrissy for the most part. You waited on the few tables that filled, had some of Eddie’s soup and talked to Argyle over the sizzle of grilled chicken, disappearing into the walk-in whenever Chrissy said something that made your heart stutter and stop.

“I can’t wait for Eddie to come in, think he’ll make me some of his ramen?”

“Oh my god, did Eddie tell you about the time there was a storm? The power went out and he drove across town to get me home safe, isn’t he such a sweetheart?”

“How long have you and Eddie been official? Did he buy you a present? Did he ask you in a super cute way?”

So by the time the boy did appear for his shift, a whole six hours after he’d dropped you off, your fingertips were numb and you couldn’t feel your feet. But you lit up at the sight of him through the kitchen hatch, scribbling down Mr and Mrs Adele’s order in a messier scrawl than normal as you watched Eddie button up his chef whites over the shirt you’d watched him pull on that morning.

You tried not to skip your way into the kitchen and honestly, you couldn’t even let the fact that Chrissy was already lingering pull down your mood. You put through your order before sliding up to the boy, smiling as he grinned at the sight of you, his hands busy tying back his curls but he still ducked his face down to yours, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Thought I told you that you weren’t allowed to get any prettier?” He scowled, dramatic and grumpy and lovely all at once.

You wrinkled your nose at him, knowing fine well you had a collection of stains on the front of your apron and your hair wasn’t anywhere as neat as it had been the last time you saw him. “You’re a liar, Eddie Munson,” was all you could say, cheeks warm enough to make you forget about your cold hands.

“I’m ain’t no such thing,” he murmured as he tucked a dish towel into his own apron. He didn’t even seem to notice Steve swanning into the kitchen, snorting at the sight of you both. “Y’had a good day?”

You hummed, noncommittal, too aware of the other girl who was pretending to look at the pantry shelves. So you shrugged and nodded at the same time, giving into your urges and letting yourself lean against the boy, your head against his chest.

“You just missed me, huh?” Eddie whispered against the shell of your ear, all faux conspiracy and your skin prickled at the feel of his lips against you.

That question gained another hum as an answer, but this one was much warmer, softer, much more agreeable. “You could say that,” you whispered back.

The question was on the tip of your tongue, an awkward one for the workplace, sure, and you didn’t dare ask it with an audience but the not knowing ate away at a piece of your heart. And surely you couldn’t survive that. Right?

What are we? Are you mine? I know I’m yours. Do you want me? Can I have you? Can we do this? Please, let’s do this.

Eddie must’ve sensed your mood, your apprehension, because he pulled back enough so he could see your face, one big hand cupping your chin so he could guide it upwards until your eyes met his. That grumpy face came into view, that lovely, pretty, frowning expression you’d come to understand so well. It meant he was worried, it meant he was concerned. It meant that he cared.

“You okay?”

You nodded after a beat of hesitation, smiling enough that your eyes crinkled in the corners.

“You had food?”

You nodded again, heart aching as your hands reached out almost as if you couldn’t stop them, sliding around his sides and clinging to his clean chef jacket.

“You gonna come hang out w’me after dinner rush?”

Your hands weren’t cold anymore and although you couldn’t see it, you heard the swing of the door as Chrissy left. “Yeah,” you finally spoke. “Yes please.”

—————

Jim’s emptied out after eight o’clock. No one in Hawkins seemed to crave any burgers or shakes on a Tuesday night and that was okay with you. Steve’s shift had long ended, Chrissy was getting ready to hang up her apron at nine o’clock and hand over to Nancy. But when Argyle turned off the last grill, Eddie looked out the hatch at the empty tables, he turned to Nancy and told her to take the night off.

She’d raised a pointed brow, suspicious. “Will you take me off the timesheet?”

Eddie scoffed, “no.”

“Will you tell Jim?”

“You callin’ me a snitch, Wheeler?”

So Nancy took the night off, the diner stayed empty, the neon light above the bar flickered and you and Eddie were alone.

It was tempting to lock the door, but the roads and the parking lot were quiet, lit by old street lights, the air turning cooler now the sun was gone. You watched Eddie pull out a mixing bowl, the radio playing a song you didn’t know, perched on the countertop with your apron in a crushed heap beside you. You swung your legs to the beat as you watched him, eyes curious as he dumped heaps of flour, brown sugar and cinnamon into the bowl.

Butter and eggs, huge chunks of chocolate and fudge.

“What’re you making?” You asked, smiling warmly as Eddie grinned and sauntered over to you, leftover chocolate between his fingers.

Eddie hummed, nudging at your knees with his hips until you spread them for him, cheeks warm as the hem of your dress slid up a little. He stood close, curls pulled loose, a chunk of sweetness between his finger and thumb. He lifted it to your mouth, brushing at your lips, his eyes tracking the movement the whole time.

You were sure you heard him breathe out a little heavier than before when you parted them for him, lips grazing his fingertips, tongue barely touching as you took the piece of chocolate. Eddie didn’t say anything when you bit into it, milky, sweet, rich. With nothing to hold, his hands fell to your thighs, palms warm and strong as they gripped you tighter than expected. You watched the boy swallow, throat bobbing and his gaze still on your mouth.

“Cookies,” he murmured distractedly. “Was gonna make cookies.”

“Going to—?”

Eddie leaned in without much preamble, catching your lips in a kiss you almost didn’t expect. It wasn’t the soft, gentle kind you had been used to, the coaxing type that he always began with. This was a kiss that reminded you of the night in the trailer, the night with grilled cheeses and distractions. He was on you fast, desperate and you met him with just as much eagerness.

You gasped into his mouth, lips parting immediately, sighing when his tongue licked over yours. It was easy for your hands to wind into his hair, nails scraping nicely over his scalp, making him groan and pull you closer to the edge of the counter. His hands were already wandering, a needy touch, fingertips skating upupup under your dress, skimming over the elastic edge of your underwear and suddenly all the kisses you’d shared weren’t nearly enough anymore.

Maybe it was insecurity, maybe it was possessiveness. Maybe it was just the way Eddie was kissing you, but suddenly you needed all of him, all at once.

“Eddie,” you sighed his name, gave it to him on a breath and it tasted like chocolate, sweet and sugary and you. It made his expression crumple, his hands pulling you closer still, fingers digging into the dough of your ass and suddenly you were flush enough against him that you could wrap your legs around his hips. “I— I just—”

The boy nodded like you knew, even if you weren’t sure what you were asking for yourself. So he let you throw yourself back at him, lips pressed almost clumsily to his, teeth clacking before your nose bumped his and you tilted your head just the right way. Eddie made pretty noises for you, hands roaming up to your hips, trapped between the cheap material of your dress and bare skin. Fingers gripped at your underwear, tugging just enough for the cotton to peel away from you.

“Fuck, fuck,” Eddie gasped, breath taken from him, sounding wrecked. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, chest heaving. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t— we should… stop…”

The rejection stung for just a second, maybe two, but you watched Eddie’s gaze fall back to your mouth and he didn’t take his hand away from your bare legs. You shook your head, lips parted and glossy from his kisses, your nose nudging up against his as you leaned in again, needy, wanting.

“Please don’t,” you murmured and Eddie thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

“Should be takin’ you to a bed,” Eddie told you, stern sounding but he was kissing across your jaw, dotting his lips over your chin, the apple of your cheek.

You whined, not agreeing or disagreeing, but you tugged at Eddie’s curls all the same, coaxing Eddie back into a kiss and it was heated, it was longing, it was teeth and tongues and everything you weren’t supposed to be doing in the workplace.

“Should be takin’ my time with you,” Eddie groaned, sucking marks into your neck, palming at your ass and hissing when you rocked yourself against him, trying to gain some friction to ease the throb between your thighs. “Should be stripping you down and getting you in my sheets.”

The idea of it made you keen but Eddie was popping the top buttons of your dress and nosing at the collar, pushing it out of his way so he could see the swell of your breasts and kissing at your shoulder over your bra strap. “You need to tell me to stop, sweetheart, or—”

“Nonono,” you told him, “don’t wanna stop. Don’t need a bed, don’t need— Eddie, I just want you, please.” You sounded as shy as you did desperate, cheeks warm, eyes heavy with need, squirming on top of the metal station as you tried to keep yourself together.

“Hey, hey, don’t ever gotta say please for me, ‘kay?” Eddie’s brows knitted together, hands leaving your legs just to cup your cheeks. His thumbs smoothed over your cheeks, pressing sweetly into them until you nodded. “Gotta be quick though, yeah? M’gonna take my time with you later, promise, baby.”

You nodded as you both spared a glance at the empty diner. Luckily, the hatch was at an angle where no one would see much if they happened to walk through the door, but Hawkins seemed to be asleep and the night was just for you and Eddie.

“Hold onto me,” Eddie ordered and he sounded gruff, voice heavy with emotion, with want and you watched his lashes flutter when you did as were told, looping your arms around his neck. It helped you lift your hips for him, made it all the easier for the boy to hook his fingers into the sides of your underwear and pull. “Atta girl, there you go.”

He pocketed the cotton and lace, glancing back at the door one more time and the radio changed, static interrupting the station before a new song kicked in, a familiar voice crooning through the speakers.

“Well, here I am, my honey. C’mon, you cry to me.”

No time was wasted when Eddie pulled your legs apart, thumbs sweeping at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, a soothing touch that only made you burn worse, the heat from the summer coming creeping back into the autumn night, the kitchen burning, a simmer under your skin. You reached up, searching, looking for a kiss but Eddie shook his head, curls falling into his eyes and the softest of smiles on his lips.

“Wanna watch, yeah? Can I do that?” He asked, a hand sweeping from your neck to your chest, fingers played over your sternum, sneaking into the open buttons until they flirted with the lace edge of your bra and he could push you back a little. You leaned onto the palms of your hands, stretched out for him, waiting, breath held. “You’re so pretty. Prettiest girl, my shy girl, huh? So good for me.”

Eddie spoke quietly, praise mixing with the music and you keened, eyes shuttering closed as his thumb swept softly over your folds, barely parting you, just letting you get used to his touch. If he’d had more time, if he’d had you in his bed, he would’ve kissed his way from ankle to hip bone, pressed kisses and marks into your skin until you looked like a painting. But for now, he watched your face crumple and scrunch when his thumb pushed in and found your clit, wet and slick for him, your mouth falling open in a quiet moan as he rubbed small circles.

“Good?” He asked and it wasn’t cocky, it wasn’t dirty, it was an earnest question. Teach me, it said. Help me make it good for you, show me what you like. “Like that, sweetheart? Or harder?”

You gasped, nodding your head and trying to keep your gaze locked on Eddie’s. He moved his hand perfectly, pace steady and his touch gentle, before it built a little, pressing a little firmer and your toes curled. “Like that,” you whimpered, voice cracking. “Just like that, Eddie.”

“Good girl,” Eddie told you, his free hand sweeping up your ribs, fingers dancing over the buttons he didn’t dare undo. Not here. Not yet. Not like this. He leaned over you, dotting kisses where he could reach. Your cheek, your nose. “You’re so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ cute, you know that? Those noises? Gonna knock me dead, sweetheart, Christ.”

You made that noise, a gasping, breathy thing as Eddie slid a finger into you, a slow, tight stretch that had you spreading your legs for him again and this went against so many health code violations it wasn’t even funny, but you were past caring. Nothing else mattered except the way Eddie was looking at you and how he crooked his finger just right.

“I need you,” you told him, a hot whisper, an almost cry and you leaned back into him, tugging at his collar until he got the hint and kissed you something filthy, tongue licking over yours until your cunt got a little tighter around his knuckle. “Eddie, now, please.”

“Barely got you ready, babe,” Eddie panted, another finger joining the first and the stretch was delicious. The boy swore when you rocked your hips against his hand, pushing his own into your thigh so he could gain some friction on his aching cock. “Shit, shit, okay, fuck—”

“This isn’t what I had planned,” he rasped as he tore off his chef's jacket and let it bundle on the tiles. His hands were shaking as he popped the button on his jeans, the noise of his zipper quiet under the music.

“Loneliness, loneliness, such a waste of time, woah, yeah…”

“Wanted to treat you right, wanted to take my time,” Eddie assured you again, but he groaned when your hands took over from his and you went searching under the band of his boxers. You found his cock, thick and hard, twitching at your touch. “Shit, sweetheart. Wanted to make you mine.”

There it was, the words that filled the hole in your chest. You were kicked into high gear, surging forward to press kisses to the boy’s neck, upupup until you were mouthing along his jaw, catching his lobe between your lips as you pumped your hand a little faster. Eddie clung to you, hips jerking as he rested his head heavy against the side of your own, his cheeks warm, his breath catching.

“I am,” you told him. Your voice sounded watery, emotions caught between your teeth and tongue, your heart pounding so hard surely Eddie could hear it behind your bones. “Already am, okay? You’re mine right? That’s what this is?”

“Christ, yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie gasped, hands cradling your cheeks so he could kiss you, messy, distracted kisses that were broken up with groans and cries. “Thought you knew? Huh? You didn’t know that?”

You shrugged, half hearted because you were still too caught up in touching the boy, your fingers curled around his cock, revelling in how heavy it felt for you, how thick and hot and ready. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted softly, teeth leaving marks on your bottom lip and you leaned in, forehead against Eddie’s as you watched him, transfixed, loving the way he was falling apart for you.

Another gasp, Eddie’s jaw hanging open as you pumped him slowly, fingers getting tighter around him when you stroked over his tip. He was all pink cheeks and a wrinkled brow, his expression everything from pouty and flustered to completely gone. “Fuck, shit, slowdownpleasefuck— baby, you’ve had me since the day Wayne told me to drive you home. Made myself dumb over you,” he laughed, breathless. “Thought you knew you were my girl.”

“S’nice to hear it again, I guess,” you whispered and there it was, the thing you’d wanted. Reassurance. “Just felt… silly.”

Eddie pushed your hand away from him, soft, gentle, before he threw an uncaring glance over his shoulder at the empty diner and then pulled you in by the crooks of your knees. You let him hold you there, legs hitched around his hips and he pumped himself once, twice, before lining up his cock with your entrance, the tip of him brushing through your folds, slick and warm.

“Gonna tell you all the time, ‘kay?” He whispered and he ducked his head down to yours, kissing you soft and sweet, his breath heavy against your cheek as you widened your legs, spreading open for him. “Jesus, sweetheart, alright? You ready?”

You nodded, mumbling your agreement against Eddie’s lips because your brain was too fuzzy to work properly. He was solid against you, holding your legs around his hips, broad shoulders under your hands and he smelled like brown sugar and chocolate, like smoke and your laundry detergent. You tensed, just a little when he pushed in, blinking at him when he paused and swept a thumb over your cheek.

“Babe?”

“S’just been a while,” you admitted. “Keep going? Please?”

This wasn’t the quickie you both needed to have for the situation but the doors stayed closed and there hadn’t been any headlights from the road bouncing along the diner walls in an age. The evening was fading into night fast, a late night hour that usually stayed dead, the diners neon signs lighting up the tiles and the empty parking lot and the only thing that made a noise was the radio.

“I’ll go slow, I promise,” Eddie assured you and he held you close as he pushed in, your body giving way to him and you gasped at the stretch, the heavy pressure of him filling you up until you were biting down at his shoulder and trying not to groan too loud. “There you go, baby, that’s it, you good?”

Eddie was panting, the breath punched from him at the feeling of you tight around him, clenching down on his cock until he felt his vision go a little sparkly. You were too much, looking at him with those big, glassy eyes all while your cunt fluttered around him, lips parted, red and swollen because of him.

“I’m good,” you whined, breathless. You squirmed, both of you moaning at the feeling and you nodded, hands fisting Eddie’s shirt. “You can move, it’s okay.”

“M’not gonna last long,” Eddie admitted, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he hooked his arms under your thighs and started to flex his hips. “It’s been a while for me too - fuck - and you feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart.”

It was a slow slide, in and out, in and out, Eddie’s hips meeting the cradle of yours, flush and warm and you were so wet, obscenely so, enough for the dirty sounds of the boy fucking you to fill the kitchen and suddenly gentle wasn’t what you needed anymore. A car drove past, lighting you both up in yellow-white light for just a second and the need to come now was too much.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you cried for him, eyes wet with all the emotion, all the pent up tension you’d held on to for today and longer. “Faster, go faster—”

You didn’t need to repeat yourself. Eddie moaned, eyes fluttering as he pushed you back just a little, readjusting his grip on you until he was taking more of your weight than the table was. One arm under your knee, keeping you open for him, the other palming at your ass and he picked up the pace tenfold, pumping his hips into yours until his cock was pushing into a spot that had you keening high for him.

“That’s it? Yeah? Right there, pretty girl?” He cooed, dipping down to kiss you, moaning filthy into your mouth as you got wetter still, the slick sounds filling the kitchen. “Touch yourself baby, touch your clit for me, that’s a girl, fu-uck—”

If someone had to have walked in then, you were you both would have had to leave town, never mind the job. One of your legs hanging off the from the table, muscles lax, dress hitched up around your thighs, your other leg bent of Eddie’s arm and held open so he could fuck into you, your ass barely perched on the edge of the table. Tits spilling out the top of your bra, one shoulder exposed, Eddie’s teeth marks on your skin and the chef himself was whispering dirty, sweet things to you, kissing at your cheeks, your chin, the corner of your mouth, his curls wild and the muscles in his arms flexing every time he held you still and thrust his hips into yours.

“I’m close,” you told him, eyes watering at the white hot pleasure of it, crying out when the hook in your tummy got tighter and tighter, your fingers swirling messily over your clit as Eddie watched and groaned, his skin slapping against yours.

“Yeah?” He asked and his voice was wrecked, his gaze heavy lidded and dark. He was a pretty picture, pink cheeked and a damp forehead, his curls clinging there, bottom lip pressed between his teeth. “Want me to tell you again, hmm? Tell you that I’m yours? That I’m all fucking yours, sweetheart? ‘Cause god, I am, I really am.”

He punctuated each word with a thrust, groaning every time his cock slid into you a little deeper, coming back out glistening, soaked. His words did magical things to you, breath hitching and back arching as you came, forehead falling lax against Eddie’s cheek before he nosed at your jaw and trapped you in a kiss, his thrusts stuttering as your cunt clenched down on him again and again and again—

He pulled out, almost too close, pumping himself over your thigh, cum dripping onto your skin and Eddie groaned into your mouth, letting you swallow down his moans as you petted over his cheeks, his hair, coaxing him through it with soft sounds.

When you both caught your breath, you were both messy, hair everywhere, uniform askew, sweat dotting your brows. But the bowl of cookie mix had fallen to the floor without you noticing, a sludge across the tiles along with a dropped bag of flour. The radio was still playing, there was a spatula and three whisks on the ground and the worktop you were sitting on had made a crack in the tiles behind you.

You laughed first, a soft, breathy thing that Eddie joined in on, smothering his joy with a kiss to your cheek, a happy, smacking thing against your skin that made you feel warm all over.

“Need’t clean you up,” Eddie murmured sweetly. “Then this place, Jesus.”

You hummed, too lazy, too relaxed to talk. So you let Eddie swipe at your thighs with a dish towel he then shoved at the bottom of the bin, grinning the whole time. You helped him sweep up the mess with shaky legs, mourning the loss of your cookies as he laughed, eyes brighter than they should’ve been for the late night hour.

And when you were perched on your stool at his station, sharing a plate of fries, Eddie reached out to brush away a crumb from your lip and said:

“I guess I should’ve asked you, huh?” He squinted at you, cheeks flushed, a little embarrassed. “So, uh, not too sound like we’re in middle school or anything, but you wanna do this properly? Be my girlfriend? God, I sound like a dumba—”

You cut him off with a laugh, a happy, bright thing and nodded, stealing his insult with a kiss as you nodded, murmuring yes against his lips.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #linecook!eddie

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msbigredmachine · 2 months ago

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You Again (Roman Reigns) - Part 2

That awkward moment when the biggest star in pro wrestling happens to be your high school bully…and he’s in your office. A 2-part series.

Pairing: Bully!Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: Smut, stalking, bullying

MASTERLIST

The mirror was very good to her today. It was as though it knew she was in dire need of extra positive reinforcements and affirmations. She liked what she saw. Hair on point. Makeup on fleek. Body tea. Her favorite Black-owned swimwear brand came through with an outfit that was sure to turn heads at a gathering as important as this one. Evelyn looked amazing and felt powerful, a far cry from the timid, naive little girl that Joe exploited all those years ago.

Still tried to exploit only a week ago, with his bullshit talk about wanting her. Disregarding all the damage he’d inflicted on her self-esteem that took her damn near a decade to overcome. It was clear he hadn’t grown out of his childish mind games and she would not stand for it today or any other day. At least that’s what her brain kept telling her, repeating it over and over in her mind.

If only her body could show the same resolve, because it didn’t seem able to rid itself of the feel of his hands and his lips…his fingers...It was all she’d thought about all week, and her dildo was paying the price…

Aboard the superyacht, it was easy to find him, tall and striking, a drink in his hand as he conversed with Tessa and Khadijah, Wow’s CEO. Evelyn embraced the two ladies warmly and tried to keep her interaction with Joe as brief as possible. Of course, ever the one to take a mile from an inch, he pressed too close when they hugged, his hand on the small of her back, lingering dangerously above the curve of her butt.

“Can we talk?” he whispered; she could have sworn his lips grazed the shell of her ear.

“No.” Her answer was immediate, a fake smile plastered on her face as she smoothly slithered out of his grasp. Suddenly craving a drink of her own, she made a beeline for the nearest bar and ordered herself a Blue Margarita. If she was going to be stuck on a boat with him for the next few hours, it was wise to make the most of it with a strong drink or two. Or three, depending on her level of anxiety which she fervently prayed would not be through the roof by the end of the day.

From her vantage point, she watched him be the center of attention, everyone clamoring to be in his presence. A slew of conflicting emotions she wanted nothing to do with rushed through her as several women threw themselves at him, eyeing him up like he was a big juicy T-bone steak. All the girls in school had fawned over him like this back then, and even now she couldn't stop the sharp thorn of jealousy from stabbing her insides. Some things had not changed after twenty years.

“I’m sorry, but I gotta be a fangirl right now. He is so fine,” Faith swooned, fanning herself. Evelyn wanted to hurl, and not from seasickness. “This is probably a personal question, but Tessa said you and him went to high school together. What was he like?”

Yeah, no one needed to know the truth about them. “He was alright,” was her curt reply, changing the subject before her assistant could pry some more.

As the party dragged on, she noticed to her chagrin that he was almost always in her line of sight. This big ass man was lurking, hovering around her vicinity under the guise of mingling with other guests. Each time he edged closer, she was quick to extend the distance, caught in a ridiculous game of cat and mouse that she was not enjoying. She sought refuge again at the bar, indulging in three tequila shots the bartender placed before her. She knocked back the first without a breath, followed by the second, letting the alcohol burn her throat and numb her senses. She was reaching for the third when a huge hand suddenly swiped it out of her reach.

“You might wanna slow down with that,” said Joe.

For fuck’s sake!

She could only look on with annoyance as he consumed the shot for himself and slammed the glass on the table. “That was mine,” she griped.

Ignoring her, he rested against the woodgrain with a huff. “So this is your plan, huh? You gon’ keep avoiding me?”

Evelyn scoffed. “What makes you think I’m avoiding you?”

“You can’t even look me in the eye right now. The minute I come near you, you take off. Someone must’ve told you I like the chase.”

Her laugh was bitter and cynical. “Typical N’Stink Joe Anoa’i. You think everything revolves around your arrogant ass. I ain’t checkin’ for you, okay? I’ve leveled up.”

“I can see that,” he acknowledged, his tone deepening as his eyes slowly swept down her body. The intensity of his stare had her shifting in her seat. “You’re the most beautiful woman here, Evie. You always are.”

Flustered, Evelyn crossed her arms around herself protectively. "I don't know what you want, but—"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, sidling closer.

"What, to harass me some more? You didn't get enough in school?" she ground out, a gasp escaping her when his face neared hers, their lips a hair’s breadth away. That familiar feeling of helplessness she thought she’d conquered long ago overwhelmed her once more, and for a brief moment, she was fifteen years old again, smothered by his domineering presence. He exuded this aura of raw power and heat, branding a sickening cocktail of loathing and longing into her skin.

"No. I didn't just not get enough," Joe replied. His eyes flickered to her full lips, mouth watering at the memory of their softness pressed against his. "I never got any of you. That was always the problem."

At a loss for words, Evelyn shook her head. She didn’t know what to expect, but this wasn’t it. It was clear he had no plans to make this comfortable for her. Wordlessly, she slid off the stool, sidestepping him and making yet another escape. Despite being in the lovely outdoors, she felt short of air, of breath. Her stomach had twisted in a painful throbbing knot; any more tension and she was going to lose her shit.

She pulled away from the general population and walked around the deck to the rear of the ship. The lower deck took her down a hallway where the guest cabins were situated. Tentatively, she opened one door, grateful to find an empty room. It was much quieter down here, with the music reduced to muted thumping, a welcome respite from the noise outside and the turmoil she’d been plunged into ever since that infuriating man reappeared in her life. She sat down on the small bed and blew out a few breaths, her face to the ceiling, closing her eyes to help her reclaim her composure.

Get your shit together. You’re Evelyn fucking Ashton, one of the most powerful women in fashion. Don’t let nobody play games with you, not even that asshole. He’s nothing to you anymore. Now go back out there and be the boss bitch everyone knows you are!

The door suddenly swinging open startled her. Her stomach dropped as Joe entered the cabin, his massive frame engulfing the door he quietly shut like some kind of horror movie monster. She leapt to her feet, panic swelling inside her.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she stammered, her eyes widening as he approached her slowly, deliberately. She scrambled backwards, unwittingly boxing herself into the corner of the room.

“I’m not letting you get away again, Evie, not this time,” Joe asserted, still advancing. A warped sense of deja vu overtook her as she was transported back in time to just a week ago, in the break room where this mess began.

“Get out or I’m gonna scream,” she threatened, swallowing hard as he stood impossibly close now, their chests touching.

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Go ahead. As long as you hear me out when you’re done.”

Evelyn stood frozen, numb for a millisecond. Then, rage tore through her; ugly black rage that swept across her mind like dark thunderclouds. Her hand flew up, slapping him hard across the face, the impact rocking him a few steps back.

“Fine! You wanna talk, let’s talk!” she exploded. Struck him again. “You motherfucker! Who are you to demand anything of me? Do you have any idea what you did to me? What you put me through? I was a kid, Joe! A kid just like you and you made my life fucking miserable! Why? Why did you hate me so much?”

She raised her clenched fists and beat them against his chest over and over. Joe didn’t move, his arms at his sides as he let her lash out. He deserved every blow; his actions had pushed her to this point. He took it even as her strikes became more aggressive, wincing as her nails raked his collarbone at one point. At the first sign of her tiring out, he gently gathered her into his arms, feeling her body tremble against him with sobs that tore at his heartstrings.

“I’m sorry,” he declared softly, cupping her chin to tilt up her tear-streaked face, praying she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m fuckin’ sorry, Evelyn. I was wrong to hurt you.”

It was bad enough that she was crying in front of him. Now her whole body was warm and her loins were pooling from the desire that blazed in his irises. Why was this happening? Why did he still have such an effect on her after so many years?

In a move she both hoped he would and would not do, he dipped his head, brushing their lips together. It made her heart skip and drew a sultry moan out of her as she pressed against him, leaving not even a sliver of space between them. Backing her up against the wall, he licked at the seam of her lips, her sigh giving him the opening to slip his tongue inside her mouth. She could feel every hard plane of his body including the hardness that was growing against her belly, the sexual tension reaching seismic proportions.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered, her voice small and pleading.

Joe's expression softened as he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. "Because I can’t help myself around you,” he confessed, his breathing as ragged as hers. “I've never wanted anyone the way I wanted…want…you."

Those words loosened something inside her. He was telling her what she’d wanted to hear for years, what she’d never thought was possible, and the feeling was surreal.

“And I know you want me, too,” he added, a low groan accompanying his kiss on her cheek. “Tell me. Say it to me.”

Fuck it. Why tell him, when she could show him?

She pulled his head down for another kiss, their lips parting, tongues tangling with every turn of their heads. He wrapped his arms around her body, almost crushing her against the wall as he released her mouth to kiss her neck, suckling her soft brown skin. Evelyn closed her eyes and tilted her head with a soft bite of her lip, captive to the sensations bombarding her. She was only aware of him, of this moment of bliss and what was coming next.

Joe lowered himself to his knees, leaving a trail of wet kisses on her exposed skin on his way down. He gathered her pants in his fists, pulling them down her legs. Her matching bikini bottoms were next, already damp from her arousal, pushing the skimpy material over her hips and past her ankles before honing in on her bare mound. He made a sound of approval as he circled his thumb over her moistening folds, admiring the puffiness of them, and smiled when Evelyn squirmed, sensitive to his intimate touch. He palmed her leg before slinging it over his shoulder, gripping her thigh to hold her steady.

Evelyn bit down hard on her lip to keep from screaming as his tongue lashed against her delicate, velvety folds. He devoured her like he was famished, his mouth giving long, suckling licks to every crevice and every spot it could find. Grabbing his shoulders, she cried out as he slid his middle finger inside her, right along her g-spot, her back arching against the wall from the dizzying sensation. Another finger followed shortly, her wetness immediately coating both digits as he thrust them in and out of her gushy pussy with ease.

“You taste better than I imagined.” Joe watched her closely, enraptured by the way she licked her lips and her eyes fluttered. He pumped his fingers faster, sucked her pussy a little harder, making nasty sloppy sounds with his warm, fat tongue that had her grinding into his face. It blew his mind how tight and wet she was; he couldn't get enough of her.

It was with the strength of Samson that Evelyn managed to shove his head away, stomach clenching at the sight of her nectar glistening on his thick beard. “There’s no time, just fuck me,” she scowled.

The big man’s eyes lit up at her demand as he made his way back up to kiss her, earning another moan from her taste coating her tongue. She pulled away long enough to yank his shirt over his head, her hungry stare fixated on his exposed muscles, the chiseled abs and chest tattoo her hands couldn't resist exploring. She allowed herself a small smile as his eyes shut briefly at her touch. He backed her towards the bed and dropped her flat on her back with him hovering above her. His hand cradled her thighs, spreading them and pressing his erection to her center. With his mouth back on hers, he pulled her right thigh around his hip, grinding against her, with her grinding with him, her fingers embedded in his muscled forearms.

"Please," Evelyn breathed. She knew it was a bad idea. She knew crossing this line would never resolve her past trauma. But she also couldn't help the way she felt, like her world would crumble to pieces if she didn’t feel him on her, in her; if she didn’t finally give in to the urges that he’d awoken after two decades of slumber.

Joe tugged down his shorts with one hand, and she sucked in a breath at the sight of his dick protruding from a manscaped tuft of pubic hair. It was long and thick with a slight curve, and her eyes began to water when he pushed it against her soaked opening, entering her inch by inch. Despite how wet she was, she was equally as tight, and he had to work to fit into her.

“Oh my god.” She had expected this. Almost. The stretch of him, this delicious and this full, inside of her. She knew he would go deep, but here he was reaching her in that spot no one else seemed able to locate. He hooked her other knee over his arm, rolling his hips until he was fully sheathed inside her. He rested his forehead against hers, cursing as her inner muscles clenched around him with each thrust. Their eyes locked as his hands pressed down firmly on her thighs, holding her open to take him balls-deep. Their pants and moans mingled with slaps of bare skin echoing in the tiny cabin, all of it blocked out thankfully by the music blaring obliviously outside.

The haze of pleasure had Evelyn squeezing her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure ravaging her body. Her hands moved up his muscular back, her nails scraping his taut, bronzed skin as he switched up with faster, deeper thrusts. She felt his fingers tighten around the back of her knees, felt his mouth cover her throat with wet, breathy kisses as his voice, low and gruff, penetrated her sex-fogged brain.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he murmured against her neck, "I couldn't believe you left me.”

"Bull…fuck…bullshit,” She could hardly think straight with his thick dick buried in her, her legs pinned to the bed with no chance to wriggle out. “You hated me, you—fffuuck," Her words disappeared in another groan when he circled his hips, nudging his dick several inches further inside her.

"I never hated you. I hated how you made me feel." One hand came up to yank her bikini top down and knead her breast. "Unsure of myself. Out of character. Weak for you," he continued. “I jerked off to you countless times…I…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It broke my heart when you left. For years, I missed you. I fuckin’ named my daughter after you-”

Evelyn gaped at him in shock. “Your daughter’s name is Evelyn?!”

“No. Amara. Your middle name.”

There was no time to react to this revelation as his big hands lifted her hips off the bed to meet his thrusts, forcing her mouth open in a soundless cry as he slammed breath after breath out of her with gloriously deep, plunging strokes. The force and power of him made her thighs tremble as her pussy finally gave in, gushing all over his groin. She wanted to cuss him out for making her come so hard, but all that came out of her mouth were pathetic, pitiful moans. Joe's eyes shone with excitement at the mess she was making, relishing every moment of her losing control to him. He gifted her a toe-curling kiss before flipping her over, smacking her bare ass.

“On your knees,” he ordered.

Too worked up to argue, she positioned herself on all fours and looked back at him expectantly. It was hard to deny how hot it was, seeing this big, sexy ass mountain of a man naked, big hand on his equally big dick, massaging it with her juices. Chuckling at the lust in her eyes, he nudged her thighs further apart and rubbed his palm along her gushy entrance, smearing her mess all over, making her moan.

“Mmm. Pussy drippin’ everywhere. You been needin’ me, huh, baby?” he said.

“Put that dick back in me,” she rasped, bumping her ass against him, eager for more. She felt his tip forge inside her, a tortuously slow entrance that had her chin scraping her chest as she moaned out in pleasure. Inch by inch, his own jaw clenching at the greed with which her pussy suckled him in. As she writhed on his dick, his mouth found her ear, tongue tracing the delicate lobe as he slid in deep from behind with his big body hunched over her. He felt huge from this angle, and Evelyn gasped, her mind spiraling from the fullness of him.

“Since I left your office, I haven’t thought about anything else but you. All my fantasies from years ago returned and I had to have you…Fuck, Evie, you feel fuckin’ amazing.” He leaned back and yanked her hips higher, deepening the arch of her back. The slap of his heavy balls against her clitoris caused her velvety walls to ripple around the length and girth of him. The shit was so good that she dug her fingers into the sheets, throwing her ass to catch his backshots as she whined his name. The husky growls that escaped from his throat gave away how good he was feeling just like she was, the sounds flowing through them both like beautiful music.

“You takin’ this dick like a champ, baby. Is it everything you dreamed of, huh?" Joe grunted, his fingers clinging to the meat of her thick hips, bewitched by the sight and feel of the big, round cheeks slapping against his pelvis, the mesmerizing recoil leaving him in a heady trance. Even in his nastiest dreams, it never looked this good.

“Fuuuuck, yes. Ohhh…” she whimpered, her voice cracking from complete bliss. He seemed determined to bury his dick in her stomach and was succeeding, nestling himself in the tight warmth of her cunt and keeping her in place as she gasped from every inch he made her take. He trailed his hand between her thighs, using two long fingers to strum on her clit, and hissed as she tightened around him right away. “Mmm, this little pussy squeezin’ my shit, you boutta come all over my d-”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Evelyn? Are you in here?”

They both froze as Faith’s concerned voice sounded from the other side of the door. Evelyn’s heart rate accelerated; the door wasn’t locked, so Faith could easily walk in if she wanted to. Her career and her reputation flashed before her eyes, her life ruined yet again because of Joe fucking Anoa’i. She started to scramble out of the bed, trying to get away, but his strong, inked arm locking around her waist put a stop to that. She cast a panicked glance back at him but only received an amused wink in response.

“She asked you a question,” he said for her hearing only, kissing her cheek.

Fighting off her rising anxiety, Evelyn called out as casually as possible, “I’m here, Faith. What is it?”

“Are you okay? I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yes…yes, I’m fine. Just a little seasick-” Her words evaporated when his fingers twined into her hair, gently pulling back, his nose nuzzling the crook of her extended neck. Incredulously, he started thrusting into her again, rolling his hips slowly so as to not make any noise. Her agitation levels were at an all time high, battling with the warm burn he was inducing in her tightening stomach.

“You sure?” Faith was saying.

His other hand cupped her breast, groping generously as his dick nudged right up against her g-spot. The nerve of him, trying to make her climax again even with Faith mere feet away! “Positive,” Evelyn called out, her pussy clenching when Joe angled her face and slyly tongue-kissed her mid-sentence. It took all of her strength to keep talking. “I’m fine, Faith. Go on. I’ll be out in a minute,” she ground out, praying that she would listen.

“Alright. Will do. You’re missing a great party though, so hurry back!”

The second Faith’s footsteps faded, Joe struck, his big paw on the back of Evelyn’s neck pinning her face-down as he upped his tempo, pounding her out with fierce, needy ruts of his hips. “Good girl, you did so good. Now nut on my dick again,” he encouraged with another hard spank to her ass, breathing out soft moans of his own as his own climax beckoned.

“Oh my fuckin’ god,” Evelyn moaned helplessly into the mattress. Fireworks burst behind her eyelids, her entire body quivering as it exploded from blinding pleasure. Her pussy pulsed and leaked all over his dick, finally dragging him over the edge as well. She’d never heard anything as sexy as his hushed, almost strangled groans as he released inside her, big dick throbbing, emptying his essence into her soaked depths.

For a long moment, neither could move, recovering from the shock of the last several minutes. His hand lightly smacking her ass caught her off guard as he withdrew from her with a satisfied groan. The warmth of his body disappeared, the weight of the small bed easing as he climbed out of it. The ruffle of heavy fabric was loud in the stunned silence of the room as he picked up his shorts and put them back on. Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed, horror dawning as she emerged from her desire-induced stupor and realized what just happened.

Joe cleared his throat awkwardly. "Evie..."

Ignoring him, she rolled out of the bed, hating that her legs wobbled as she stood. She hunted in her purse for a wet wipe, her back deliberately turned as she cleaned up the evidence of their tryst off her body. Without a word, she threw the wipe into the small trash can in the corner, adjusted her bikini top and slid her underwear and pants back on.

"Evie wait, hold on…Evie…Evelyn!" His deep voice rose, more demanding as he sensed her about to run off again. He was quicker, blocking her path to the door before she could. Despite her shame, her ego couldn’t help but swell at how deliciously rumpled he looked, knowing she did that to him. He ran a hand through the strands of hair that had escaped his once neat ponytail. "Look, I still think we should talk," he said.

It took everything in her to not laugh and cry at the same time. “Talk? After this?!” she exclaimed, "I don't know what I was thinking, but this was a huge mistake." More humiliation shot through her as she realized she'd not only let her high school bully fuck her, but they did it raw on a boat filled with her colleagues! Her assistant had almost caught her, too! The embarrassment was suffocating and she needed out asap.

She moved around him but he stopped her again, his hand catching her wrist. "Baby, hear me out." His jaw clenched, his voice hesitant. "I've been beating myself up for a long, long time for what I did to you." He brushed his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “I wanna make things right. Please…let me make it up to you.”

“You can’t. It’s…it’s too late,” Evelyn argued, painfully aware that she was in a losing battle with her emotions.

"No, sweetheart, it ain’t,” Joe insisted. “I leave town in two days. Have dinner with me tomorrow night. I got a lot to apologize for. Give me a chance, Evie. Please."

Her sigh was tired and resigned, recognizing that he was not going to drop this. So she took the easy way out. "Fine. And after that I never want to see or hear from you again."

Joe chuckled, his arm snaking around her waist and drawing her close. This time she didn’t push him off. A good sign. “You already forgot we’re working together soon. Besides, is that really what you want, baby girl?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“You sure?” He leaned down and kissed her softly, his soft lips moving sensually against hers. Like butter next to heat, she was melting into him again, kissing him back once, twice, three times, before she jerked away abruptly. “I ain’t your toy no more, Joseph,” she warned, a frown tainting her beautiful face. “Dinner and that’s it. Text me the time and place and I’ll be there.”

“I’ma make you change your mind about me,” he vowed, the arrogance in his baritone reverberating around the room and caressing her skin.

Meeting his eyes dead-on, a defiant smirk crossed her lips as she opened the door. “Oh, I highly doubt that. See you around, N’Stink.”

How she got back to the upper deck in one piece, she wasn’t sure. It was as though she was floating on air, her body light as air for the first time in ages. Despite her elation, a part of her still worried about this new, interesting step she had taken and where it would lead her. Confusing. Conflicting.

Faith perked up when she returned. “There you are! I was gonna come find you again.” She peered closely at her boss with a concerned expression. “Hey, are you okay? Feel better? You do look a little flushed,” she observed.

“I’m fine.” Evelyn snatched two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and gulped both of them down in record time, ignoring Faith’s bewildered gaze. “Do me a favor?”

“Sure,” said Faith, eager to help.

“When we get off this boat, get me the sluttiest dress and stilettos you can find in my size, and a box of Plan B.”

THE END.

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

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crazy-only · 5 months ago

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making dinner with max ! (fluff)

pairing: max x fem!reader

premis: you watch max’s daughter (single dad in this scenario) for more hours than bargained; bby feels bad and decides to treat you to dinner ! lots of fluff !!

preface: omg this one was so much fun to write i wish it would happen to me in real life ＞︿＜ i actually need him, im not kidding ! like always, i hope you enjoy <3 y’all are the best ≧◡≦

head rested on your lap, max’s sweet daughter falls into a deep sleep, tiny body rising and falling with each breath she takes.

“oh, you’re still here,” a male voice says from the main door, silently arriving home like a cat.

you jump a bit and quickly look down to check on penelope, thankfully still sound asleep.

with a smile you shush max and nod to his daughter.

oh, he mouths quietly, having realized his mistake.

with steady hands you carry penelope to her tiny bed, max following your lead like a lost puppy.

or maybe more like a pitbull? his presence was slightly terrifying, him being a millionaire, an f1 racing champion, and such.

and somehow you still managed to have a crush on him.

“there we go,” you murmur under your breath, turning back towards max as the both of you guys exit her room.

“sorry for making you stay for so long,” max says in a normal volume, a safe distance away from his resting daughter.

“it was nothing! i enjoy taking care of her,” you explain shortly, your breath escaping you. you couldn’t place it but there was something about max that intrigued yet scared you. this was the fifth time you’ve watched his daughter; why were you still nervous around him?

he pulled out his wallet, collecting a few hundred-dollar bills. “here,” he says, handing $300 worth of cash into your shaking hand. “for the overtime.”

you start shaking your head, backing away with raised hands. “no, no; it’s really okay! don’t worry, i enjoy the work.”

max sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “then let me treat you to dinner.” and before you can refute his answer, he says, “just so i don’t feel guilty later.”

you reluctantly nod, predicting how awkward the rest of this night would be with just the two of you.

“great!” max exclaims, having noticed you accepted his offer, and clasped his hands together. “although you might need to help me cook.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

it was a silent night as max and you prepped the ingredients for hamburgers—penelope’s favorite.

“how’s it going over there,” max prompted from time to time as he formed the meat patties.

you’d respond shyly, “good.”—though it was anything from good if you were being honest—you tried to hide with your the scrambled mess of food you made on the chopping board with your back, hoping your boss wouldn’t notice.

you could not cook for your life, and chopping vegetables—tomatoes in this case—was a great display of this shortcoming. you cursed to yourself as you accidentally slit your index finger, sucking on it to avoid any blood spilling. you didn’t think penelope would want blood-flavored burgers.

discreetly you dashed to the other side of his huge kitchen (why did it have to be so big?!) to grab a napkin in hopes of cleaning your wound.

but, proving to be the f1 champion he is, max twisted at the scuttle of your feet, face contorted in concern at the bloody finger.

you slowly turn as max stalks towards you. you say quickly, “ah, it’s just a little cut, i’m so sorry just give me a secon—“

max doesn’t give you time to make excuses, though, as he grabs your finger and inspects it, seeing how bad your wound was.

“a bandage should do,” he says, completely ignoring your nervous ramble, and instead, retrieves a first aid kid from the nearby cabinet.

“sorry,” you squeak, looking at the floor.

“it’s okay, y/n. don’t worry: it happens all the time to me too,” max assures while getting the necessary supplies. suddenly his eyes go wide at your finger.

you had been fisting your hand trying to calm yourself down, completely oblivious to the increased amount of blood escaping your finger.

max quickly brings your finger up to his mouth, and you watch in shock as he sucks the blood away.

woah.

he takes your finger out of his mouth and, deciding it to be clean enough, disinfects it with an alcohol tissue.

you jolt a bit at the sharp feeling of the alcohol seeping into your bloodstream, and max naturally rubs your hand. “sorry, must’ve hurt.”

you shake your head silently, words gone at the fault of his kindness.

after wrapping your finger in a bandage, max hands back your limb (it felt so cold without his warm touch).

he suddenly laughs, noticing your blank stare. “what are you thinking about?”

unable to take your eyes off of your bandaged wound, nor think straight, you murmur, “in-indirect kissing.”

could you blame yourself? your lips went on your finger. then his went on your finger as well. boom! technically that was a kiss, no?

your mind was going crazy, making you a bit dizzy in the real world.

“interesting,” max observed, nodding slowly with a confused smile.

crap, y/n! you scared him!

you desperately try to make things less-awkward between you and the single dad: “no, no, no; it’s not like that, i swear! i’m just like dumb sometimes and blurt things i don’t mean!”

you gulp, trying to read max’s mind as he shrugs and walks back to your vegetable chopping.

he scoffed, taking in your mess of a salad. then he walked back and tugged you gently by your sleeve, standing you in between him and the counter.

“quick crash course on chopping, okay?” he murmured into your ear, making your heart race for about the hundredth time this evening.

would you have a heart attack with all of these stunts max was obliviously pulling?!

“first,” he said, placing a dull knife into your hand, “always have your finger above this part of the knife when cutting thick foods.” he engulfed your hand in his, yours tiny by comparison, and started showing you a generic chopping motion. you could feel his heartbeat against your back and his breathing on your neck. you could barely focus with him around you, let alone this close to you!

“there, try it now,” max suggested after a minute of guiding your hand, having chopped a carrot.

you nod, nervous, but still manage to cut an onion thanks to his teaching. “max! look!”

but your boss was crying and smiling at the same time, hands rubbing his eyes. “i hate onions!”

laughing you hold the chopping board to his face, letting him cry more.

he yells, running away from the satanic vegetable as you chase him around the counter, the both of you attacked with laughing fits.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

“dinner is ready!” max yells, letting penelope know.

you two wait in silence for penelope’s light footsteps to sound but they never come.

max, confused, raises from his chair and goes to her room. “stay here, she must be asleep.”

patiently, you sit, attempting to calm down your accelerated heart. would it just be the two of you?

“yeah, she’s out,” max announces, regaining his seat at the oak table. “i’ll save the food for her tomorrow.”

you nod, hoping penelope would enjoy it. you really tried your best.

“thanks for, um, teaching me, you know, how to chop and stuff,” you said while nudging a french fry around on your plate.

max, in the middle of biting his cheeseburger, nods.

he laughs, suddenly making a realization: “what kind of babysitter can’t cook?”

you look down dreadfully. “sorry,” you whispered, playing with your hands. “that’s my fault for not learning.”

you hear max curse under his breath as he leans closer to you. “look at me, y/n.”

you listen and look up to face the attractive man, trying to hide with a sad smile your teary eyes.

he brushes a strand of your hair back, studying your face for a moment. “it was meant to be a joke, i’m sorry. i didn’t think you’d take it seriously.” he runs a stressed hand through his hair. “you’re the best babysitter penelope’s ever had. she loves talking about the ‘adventures’ you guys have outside, the things you teach her about the world.“

max laughs. “and honestly, she probably prefers the microwaved food you give her.”

you laugh too. “oh, i see,” you pick up a fork and try to eat your salad but you can feel max’s eyes burning into yours. your silverware clatters to the plate, your nerves making any action remotely basic to be impossible.

max silently collects a bit of food for you on his fork from your plate and holds it in front of your face. “ahhh,” he mimics, smiling.

“is this what you call,” he murmured, watching your lips wrap around the fork, “an indirect kiss?”

you chew your food, eyes blinking at the question max posed, wondering if your ears were playing tricks on you.

what do you even say? was your crush flirting with you?

max, noticing your silence, played with his fork. “sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“no, no, no,” you said, face flaming up. “that was the right usage of the word.”

his eyes darted between your lips and eyes, so quick you almost thought it never happened. “can you show me what a ‘kiss’ is, then?”

trembling a bit you say, “it’s, uh, when two people touch each other on their lips and—“

max rose out of his chair with a smile, admiring your sweetness. “can you show me, then?” he neared you, towering over your seated position.

“oh, um,” you mumbled nervously, “only—only if you want.”

he leaned his large hands on the arms of your chair, watching as you shut your eyes quickly.

he laughed, petting your head. “so cute.”

you blindly pouted, a bit embarrassed.

shivering in anticipation, you felt a gentle finger feel your lips. “y/n,” max said, making you open your eyes. “are you okay with this?”

you nodded, staring up at him from under your lashes. “please, max,” you murmur, kissing his calloused finger, causing his eyes to shutter.

he leaned towards you, searching your eyes for confirmation, then softly brushed his lips on yours, him humming at the contact.

he held your check, deepening the kiss, addicted to your taste. you tried to keep up with max, and thankfully, he helped your shy lips along the way.

when he finally pulled away he was panting, you grinning sheepishly.

“way better than indirect kissing,” you decide aloud, making max laugh.

“agreed.”

you leaned your head into his palm. max smiled as he realized you finally opened up for him.

“does daddy have a girlfriend?” a young girl’s voice suddenly asked from behind the both of you, making you jolt away from max’s hand.

penelope, holding a stuffed animal, was standing still in the hallway, her tiny head tilted in confusion.

“oh, no, sorry max, shoot—“ you whisper under your breath.

“yes,” max suddenly stated to his daughter, resting a warm, comforting hand on your shoulder, “she’s mine.”

you look up and find max staring back, raising his eyebrows to check if the statement was true.

you chuckled, raising from your seat to shyly hug your new boyfriend sideways. “i’m his.”

penelope clapped happily, a big smile on her face, making you let out a deep breath. “yayyy!” she exlaimed, “now i can eat mac and cheese always!”

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max fluff

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heaartzzforcupidzz · 8 months ago

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A/N: skyla again, guys! I’m probably posting too much for you all so I’ll stop for a day or two. this was a request from another writer.

“Let me worship you to.”

Relationship(s) : catnap x prototype!daughter!reader 🔞

warnings: smutt , violence

this was a request from @2faced-fairy .. hope you enjoy, love.

you came back to the factory exactly 12 years after the hour of joy. you were 14 when your mother found out the news that your father had mysteriously “vanished”. not too long before the hour of joy took place. you were now 26 going on 27 and still hadn’t found any clues or answers to your fathers’ disappearance.

you were in playtime co. this place looked like a dump. but.. it was very spacious. before long, you came across the mascot. you looked up at him and smiles. he was cute. very cute to a child you supposed. you began to walk around more and you heard something.. move? you turned around, fast. The big blue huggy was gone. you began to run as everything started to feel like it was watching you.

Eventually, you had killed(?) huggy wuggy and a claw picked up the deceased Mommy Long Legs. you had finally made it to the playcare when suddenly you felt a sharp scratch along your back. you gasped as you had looked back to see.. a big purple cat? You ran as fast as you could, closing and slamming doors behind you but that didn’t help much. As you were sure, he was about to finish you off. that claw that took mommy came down and shooed the cat off you before leaving… that was weird? you thought as you got up. you took a sharp breath as you felt the scar on your back, opening.

you looked around the place for anything, anything at all to stop the bleeding. you sighed and sat when you found nothing. more then likely, you’d die from bleeding out or a pretty nasty infection. you took a breath before you heard someone in the shadows. you got up and got ready to flee before the big purple cat came out with some bandages and alcohol. he looked.. different? he was in a different form. you remember your dad saying this was their “bigger body” form.

it was quite awkward as he healed your wounds, making sure to be careful. he took off your shirt to make sure to clean up every inch of the wound. he turned you around and looked at your face. he then thought to himself. ‘so this is my saviors daughter?..’

before long, catnap was kissing against your skin, murmuring soft apologies. you quickly shook him off and told him it was fine, really. but he would take no for an answer. he came close and stared at you.

“Let me worship you to.”

you could only nod as he came closer, scared he would get violent if you didn’t oblige. he kissed your neck before he slipped his fingers in your pants. rubbing circles on your clit. you moaned and bucked into his hand, loving the feeling his fingers gave you. before long, he had you naked and on your back as he ate you out like you’d be his last meal. his long, sharp tongue reaching places unknown. you cried beneath him as you soon came on his tongue. he licked you all clean, making sure you were slick enough.

his cock was long. the tip swollen and an angry red shade. pre-cum leaking from the tip. wow, these toys were very.. human like you thought. you weren’t paying attention and catnap thrusted into you, harshly. you yelled in ecstasy and pleasure and a bit of pain as your legs wrapped around his waist. he angled his hips to your g-spot, letting you grip on his fur and moan in his ears.

he bit into the side of your neck, leaving his mark on you for the other toys to know who you belonged to he belonged to. you looked up at him, tears welling in yours eyes at the stimulation. catnap licking them off your cheeks as he rutted against you, cumming in your womb. the splutters of hot seed against your womb, enticing a orgasm outta you.

when his knot deflated, he pulled you off him. he cleaned you up abit before cuddling into you. purring as he listened to your soft snores.

#smiling critters x reader #reader insert #reader x character #reader x crush #smut #catnap #catnap x reader #catnap poppy playtime #poppy playime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #smiling critters #smiling friends #smile #smutty smut smut #fluff #light angst #Spotify

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ipostwhatiwant1202 · 8 months ago

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Headcanons of the boys that I think are 100% valid and no one can tell me otherwise:

Leo

• just dance legend

• is not allowed anywhere near the stove

• has the best sense of humor, only because he isn't trying to be funny, he's just very dry

• takes extremely good care of his teeth

• can nap literally anywhere

• king of gentleman. pulls out chairs, holds open doors, and will gladly give you his seat when you walk in the room, even if there's other places to sit

• will allow you to vent but doesn't hesitate to tell you when he thinks you were in the wrong

• big fan of greys anatomy

• weeb.

• he 100% is a wine guy.

• horrible at math

• not a physically affectionate guy but let him do things for you.

• head patter

• health nut but has a huge sweet tooth

• he may seem high strung, but the guy knows how to have a good time

Raph

• best hugger ever

• will ruffle your hair all the time

• he can and will pick you up just to move you out of the way

• emotionally in tune enough to be dangerous

• can sing very well

• 2nd best cook in the house

• loves cop shows

• showers twice a day just cause he can

• definitely an acts of service guy over physical affection. he can and will google how to fix your sink instead of calling donnie (who ends up there anyway). makes you gifts all the time

• loves puns

• big animal lover, cats specifically

• the loudest sneezer there ever was

• he has allergies and makes it everyone's problem

• very patient

• closeted swiftie and that speaks for itself.

Donnie

• black coffee drinker

• has the worst hygiene due to his work schedule

• loves real housewives

• can and will eat his weight in pasta

• physical affection is nice but he's more of a words of affirmation guy. he'll happily hug you but will never hesitate to tell you how he feels about you (after you get through the awkward stage)

• worst dancer

• very heavy sleeper when he does fall asleep

• king of sarcasm

• can speak multiple languages

• has the best laugh

• will stare at you until you pay attention to him

• heavy metal music is his favorite

• loves dirty jokes

• the biggest baby in the world when he's sick

• silent but deadly temper

Mikey

• king of nicknames

• most empathetic and emotionally aware person you'll ever meet

• type to pick you up to hug you

• cooking is his specialty

• physical affection, quality time, you name it, he loves it. he craves attention and connection. please show him your favorite things because he loves trying new stuff

• loves to gossip (definitely a girl's girl)

• lightweight

• extremely good at drawing

• very observant

• best dancer and can tango like it's no one's business

• really good at impressions (especially trump)

• very abstract thinker and good strategist

• very ticklish

• allergic to cats but loves them a lot

• not easily provoked but puts raph to shame when full blown angry

#rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt ask blog #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #ask blog #tmnt 2003

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custarcake · 6 months ago

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them... they r soo in love with each other. clumsy earnest silly kind of love 🙏

FloTex FloTex FloTex FloTex

CHANTING FLOTEX FLOTEX

Someone should give me FloTex HCS or fics I need FloTex content

#florida x texas my beloved #florida brings texas sticks n rocks and texas is doe eyed over it #i hc both tex and florida as knowing spanish but they would speak in two wildly different dialects #they hold hands.. maybe #gay sad pathetic hopeless romantic tex who also wont admit it + the chaos ever florida whos sooo peculiar when it comes to love #they both get super flustered but show it in diff ways. florida will just start grinning and laughing and making jokes that dont make sense #and texas would just sputter and get wide eyed because he has literally never known This before #florida on the countryside is a force to be reckoned with #hes learned pig latin and speaks it to the pigs. hes jumped every fence. he talks to the trees n sings to the plants.#texas on the beach is very awkward but also enjoys picking out seashells and swimming in the shallow end #florida has so many dumb hats n he puts them on texas;; texas gave him a stetson once and florida wore it and he still isnt over it #texas looks at florida one day and goes “oh.. oh my god” n florida doesnt even register how much he likes texas #he just Takes It In and is like “yeah. thats right.”#texas quietly agrees to his chaos. feels an absurd amount of pride whenever florida makes some bullshit point and ends up agreeing with him #“chaos knows no sides” but thats his cowboy boyfriend #they listen to each other's stories a lot #texas is like the storytime that remembers each detail and will recount the entire affair like its a movie #florida gets off topic like 293738 times and finishes tje story eith “welp. that happens!!” (its the most traumatic thing ever)#florida thinks horror movies r so silly- he thinks the special effects r so cool- and texas is terrified of them #they both have bad movie tastes for different reasons #texas thinks of florida as sunshine and orange blossoms and brightness but will be like “whatEVER” whenever tenn calls him a sap #physical touch but also quietness but also them staring at each other slow blinking like cats :33 #animal people in diff ways. tex with fluffy dogs + florida with alligators #randomly calling each other in the middle of the night. even if the other doesnt answer its still a comfort #florida loudly (re)introduces himself to the south like hes some big ass villain. “well LOOK WHOS HERE.” and hes walking through the door.#tex gets along with loui!! theyre chill + florida loves to bring tex to his places of crime #gajsgsjs just... texflo... flotex...

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littlemissferret · 6 months ago

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CHRONICLES OF HOUSECATS [ part 1 , part 2 ]

sypnosis: you finally manage an uninterrupted date with isagi

no prns used (reader). established relationship with (loser bf) isagi. 2.2k wc. cw: nothing(?). made them a lot tamer for this (less chaos). kaiser & ness still cats ofc.

Do you remember the feeling of awkward cringe, when you watch third-rate actors on screen put on an act so atrociously bad? The kind of feeling that forces your skin to crawl- a chill sent down your spine while simultaneously warm blood rushes to your face from second hand embarrassment?

“MEOWWWW MRREOWWWWWWWWW”

Yeah, you’re feeling a whole hell of that right now. God, he’s so embarrassing…

You pinch the bridge of your nose, breathing in much needed fresh air to cool down the horrendous headache your darling housecats are causing you right now.

“Enough, Mihya. I told you to save your little theatrics for the talent shows.” You lift up the blue cat carrier to chastise him.

Michael bats his eyes, staring up at you with the eyes of a pitiful, heartbroken widow.

“You’re not fooling anyone with that,” You deadpan at his attempt to win you over. “C’mon, it’s just a spa. You love getting pampered, don’t you? Well, they’re gonna give you lotsss of love and attention there.”

He furthers his meowing and whining at you, pretending he didn’t hear allat. Determined to not drop his act anytime soon.

Isagi walks next to you, this sweet boy has been trying to hold your hands when you were busy arguing with your rebellious cat.

He finally manages to grab onto your hand, a smile blossoming onto his face as he internally celebrates his success.

“Um, will it really be okay for us to just leave them at the spa?” He eyes the magenta cat carrier in his other hand. “I mean, we can do this another time.. It’s not that much of a hassle, really.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, and start swinging your held hands. “It’s fine. Really!” You turn to him with a smile, “I bring them to the spa every two to three months anyway. Mihya usually loves it! He’s just being whiny for attention right now.”

Ignoring the blond cat’s yowls of protests, you continue, “Besides, I’m looking forward to this date with you-” You glance down at the blue carrier, “-without them interrupting this time.”

On your previous romantic dates with Isagi, the two cats had stalked and caught up with you both. Causing a scene every single time, thanks to Michael’s dramatics and Alexis’ surprising animosity towards your sweet boyfriend.

You swear Alexis is usually a good, well-mannered kitty. He never had any problems with strangers. Maybe he just doesn’t like Yoichi’s smell? You oughta talk to him about showing up right after practice in his stinky sweat drenched jersey.

You hum, stepping into the doors of ‘Magic Whiskers Pet Spa & Hotel’. The bell chimes, alerting the workers and other pets in the building of your arrival.

It doesn’t take long until the old manager walks up to greet you. “Hello there, dearie! Michael and Alexis back for their appointment?”

“Hi, gramps. And yeah, the usual, thank you.” Placing the cat carriers onto the counter, you open the locks for them.

Michael huffs, strutting out and stretching his legs, then immediately basks in the old man’s praises at his big boy stretch.

Little bastard giving you the silent treatment.

Alexis walks up to you the moment he’s let out of the cage. Purring as he rubs his head at your waist. Finally, he thinks. Normally he’s comfortable with his carrier but god when Isagi is the one handling him does it make the experience a hundred times less enjoyable.

Oh well, at least he’s in his second favourite place now. Being in the magic themed store slash spa makes him the happiest feline alive.

Great memories were created here in this magical place, after all.

“Good boy, ‘Lexis. You watch over Michael for me, yeah? He’s being a petty prick.” You whisper to the cat. “I’ll stock up on your favourite kibbles when I come back later.”

You scratch at the spot behind his little flicky ears, sinking in his purrs as you stare at Michael’s overgrown blond fur.

“Hmm. You know what, old man? I think you can try something new with them this time.”

The cats stare up at you curiously and the manager only gives you a warm smile.

“I thought you’d never ask. Leave them to me!”

—

“Ahh, some peace and quiet..” You sigh in bliss as you hook your arm with Isagi. You’re both now walking leisurely on the sidewalk. “Soo, what’s the plan, Yoichi?”

Isagi blushes when you turn to look at him, “Ah, right.” He fumbles with his jacket, “Well, I didn’t plan an itinerary or anything. But..”

He lists off the places you both can visit together, rambling off. Occasionally stuttering and tripping over his own feet.

You admire his side profile as he continues his meandering. He’s such a cutie, still so awkward and shy this far into the relationship.

You wonder if you’d get to more sides of him as you both continue to spend more time together.

“-so i think it’s really worth a visit too. You wanna go?”

His dorky smile paired with a soft blush on the apple of his cheeks. How could anyone say no to that?

You’d go anywhere this man brings you to.

“Sure. Anything for you, pretty boy.”

—

The faint smell of clay envelopes the both of you as you step foot into the pottery studio.

“Hello, we booked a session under the name Isagi Yoichi.” You glance around the cozy studio, admiring the array of works displayed. The muted colours of each piece of art blend well in the modernly designed room, adding a spark of personality to the mundane aesthetic.

“Yes, of course. Over here, please.” The receptionist brings you two to your designated workshop.

You place a thumb to your chin as you stare at the unpainted pottery in front of you. You never really had any plans to paint on some clay. Now that you think about it, you jumped at any idea Isagi had suggested- and pottery painting just happened to sound the most romantic to your dear Yoichi right now.

Oh, well. Now that you’re here with him, might as well show-off whatever amount of talent you have for painting.

Yoichi’s hand finds yours, before he quickly releases it to wipe off the sweat that has collected onto his palm.

“Sorry! I- It’s too hot in here, aha..”

Help this poor guy. So many dates into the relationship and he can hardly tell if you’re as excited as he is. Is your heart beating as quick as his right now? Do you feel the immense urge to hold him the same way he wants to hold you?

You choose to reach out for him, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Are you nervous about pottery painting? I’m sure you’ll do great, ‘Ichi.”

Ah, that’s not.. Yoichi sweatdrops. You have trouble reading him too, it seems. At least now he feels better about being unable to read you.

A talent to be reckoned with, really. How you both have been with each other for years and still stuck in the awkward guessing stage whenever you go out together.

But weakass communication skills aside...

Uh oh. What if you think of him as a loser, one that is jittery at the notion of.. painting?

No way! He’ll save this, he thinks. Right, he was good at arts and crafts back when he was in school. He can woo you with his crazy painting skills!

With newfound confidence, Isagi picks up an unpainted mug. A blank canvas- for him to turn into one of his creative works, and sweep you off your feet. He picks up a brush, brainstorming ideas of what he can paint onto the mug.

You browse the options, settling on matching mugs with Yoichi’s. Sitting by his side, you dip your brush into the paint of your choice, and start to draw strokes of what you have in mind onto the delicate surface of the mug.

“Has your season come to an end? You’ve been more free lately,” You ask, just to start a conversation. “As in, you’ve been coming over a lot more.”

Isagi’s mouth forms an ‘o’, “Right. Yeah, it's my off-season right now.” He pauses to think, “I’ll be free until next month, I guess.”

You hum at his answer, “You still practice a lot, even on your holidays.”

“Ah, well. That’s just..” He blushes, feeling a bit shy that you’ve noticed his passionate attitude towards football.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” You laugh at his embarrassment, “You love football. That much I know of.”

Isagi feels his heart flutter at that. God, you remind him of how much he loves you every time without fail. Doing so much to him while you haven’t even started on pampering him with kisses and sweet words.

He swears you’re perfect- just for him. You fit perfectly, providing all kinds of comfort and support that he never knew he needed. All on your own accord.

You love, care and recognize his dreams. What more could a man ask for?

The world's best lover for the world's best striker. (an overkill but he's delulu like that)

He swallows hard, wanting to let all the bottled up giddy feelings burst out and embrace you. He wants to make sure you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Maybe he’s not the best with words. The peak of his creativity with verbal finesse is really just spitting flame on the field- something that he secretly hopes you’ll never get to witness.

Most he can do now is to paint what he loves the most- you, and his football of course, onto the mug.

With each delicate stroke of his brush, he carefully fills in the colours with love. Painting a simplified version of your general features, he then adds the football next to you. Ending the piece by tracing a giant frame of heart around both you and the ball.

He checks his work, scanning for any small mistakes then carefully writes ‘World’s #1 Striker’ onto the free space next to his painting.

He smirks proudly at that.

You send him a side-eye then chuckle at his satisfied look, touching up on the details and colours of your own piece of art.

Seems like you both share very similar sentiments in your paintings. You opt to paint what you love the most- your cats, with your lovely boyfriend in between.

Instead of acting up on your ego like him, though, you settled on painting mini hearts to fill out the free space.

Give it a week, and your mugs will be delivered back to you. The previously plain ceramics painted over with a sheen of love, reflecting the experience you both created and the bond you’ve both strengthened over the date.

—

“Meow”

Alexis runs up to you the moment you enter the door. Eagerly pawing up at your legs.

You notice his faded magenta is re-dyed, and his usual pressed down fur is now more fluffed up. The natural caramel brown is now more contrasting with the bright magenta.

“Hi, ‘Lexis. Did you have a good time?” You pick him up and start to kiss him all over his now very soft and fluffy fur. “I missed you too, baby. You look so pretty. Do you feel pretty?”

The now fluffier (re-dyed) magenta cat basks in your attention, lapping his tongue at your chin while purring happily.

The old man walks up to you with Michael strutting along next to him.

“I’ve given this one a whole makeover,” He muses, “Alexis was the one who chose that colour for him.”

Michael glances up at you proudly with his pretty blue eyes- now matching with the new dye he wears on his blond fur: on the top of his ears and the ends of his tail. His fur is noticeably shorter, and a little choppy around his head, framing his usual fluffy face.

It makes him look so silly, to be honest. But he’s so satisfied with it, you decide to not comment on the choppy part.

You do, however, comment on his new dye job.

“What a beautiful shade of blue,” You coo at him, giving into his attempt at flaunting for compliments. “Look at you, my little emperor. So royal.” His fluffy tail stands up high, and wags in approval.

Returning your attention to the old manager, you teasingly ask, “Were they on their best behaviour, old man?”

He chuckles and nods at the two cats now staring at him, “Yup. They’re good alright. I’d say they deserve some new toys and some premium kibbles.”

You smile, satisfied hearing his response. “Well, I did promise to restock Alexis’ favourite kibble.” You pick Michael up along with Alexis, then place them on the seat of a trolley nearby.

Turning to your idle boyfriend (who has been nervously eyeing a certain magenta cat), you ask, “Could you help me get the premium kibbles, ‘Ichi? I’ll bring these two around for them to pick their new toys.”

Isagi smiles crookedly, “Sure, honey.” He tries to shrug off the way the blond cat is narrowing his eyes at him, but mostly at the ominous smile the magenta one is sending him. “Take your time.”

He’ll just have to find a way to counter the two jealous kitties soon.

a barking cat video made me write allat

- im ngl i feel kinda shy writing lovey dovey romance, u can tell its really stiff - probably will resort back to chaos dumping or maybe will try to put myself out there

#- yu : writing ༊*·˚#isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #alexiss ness #alexis ness x reader #alexis ness x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #ooh i don't like this one

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xxsugarbonesxx · 7 months ago

Text

Librarian Miguel x Flower Shop Owner

tags: tooth rotting amounts of fluff and some suggestive bits. No one is spider man in this AU, mainly just character set up stuff :3 and no gender is specified for reader any1 can read it

hopefully this will be me getting back into writing since i took a break from it lol (this was done in 30-40 minutes at 2am so sorry if it isnt too high quality) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In the little rural town of Nueva, there was a library, it was owned and operated by the single hottest man in town, and probably the whole state, Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel O’Hara was a simple man really, he ironed his clothes, did sudoku on the train and ate a bagel with light cream cheese, an assortment of raspberries, blackberries and blueberries every morning every day for breakfast.

He took his coffee dark with the littlest splash of cream and one sugar cube. Two sugar cubes would be just reckless. Coffee could be substituted with Camellia flower tea when he was out of coffee, peppermint for when he had a migraine.

All the women in town would sing his praises to another. Little was known about him besides that after the death of his daughter he moved to Nueva and opened his library. In front of his library was a small community garden and a bench dedicated to his dear daughter by the double doors.

No one brought it up, no one asked, and he liked it that way. He liked the simplicity of Nueva. The air was cleaner, the people there warmer and the ringing in his ears seemingly disappeared when he moved there.

He liked to keep his library neat and tidy, he had plenty of rules set in place to follow…children's books in the front and adult books in the back. The spicer content was shelved by the cook books so no kids found them. You are to only use the various lamps in the library, never the big light. It totally ruined the cozy atmosphere he had set up.

Jazz, Frank Sinatra, and Selena Quintanilla was the only music allowed to be played, he didn’t like any other types of music. Coffee was free as long as you returned your mug to the table his coffee maker was on once you were done. No talking louder than a whisper, and only pet the library cat if you had all your shots. That was mostly a joke, but Miguel didn’t want people who weren’t up to date on their immunizations touching his cat.

It was almost closing time, and there were only a few people left. The familiar cast of characters Miguel had come to know now wandering the maze of shelves. Ben Riley was using one of the community monitors. Sending emails back and forth to his girlfriend in Canada. Only god knew if she was real or not.

When Miguel asked why Ben just bought his own laptop or computer to converse with his girlfriend, Ben explained he didn’t want to go through the trouble of setting up a laptop when he could just walk to the library to use one for free.

Miguel couldn’t help but hold back the fattest eye roll known to man when he heard that.

Peter Parker was looking for cookbooks for the dinner he was gonna make to win his ex wife back. Stressing over the perfect dish to make as young Mayday Parker debated whether she wanted to check out GoodNight Moon or Skippyjon Jones for her bedtime story tonight.

Then there was Pavitr Prabhakar and Gayatri Singh. Debatably his most adorable regulars. Miguel would watch the two teenagers stumble through their awkward study dates, he couldn't help but feel the littlest bit proud of Pav when he finally worked up the courage and kissed her.

But his favorite, hands down, was you. You owned the little flower shop across the street from his library next to the bakery. On the opening, you had brought him a bunch of sunflowers tied with a pearl white ribbon as a gift. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he was actually allergic to sunflowers and graciously took the generous gift with a stuffy nose and kind smile.

You would come waltzing in, batting your eyelashes like you were auditioning for a mascara commercial. At first he had no interest in romance, but you were just so…kind, caring, loving, compassionate. You were so slow and soft spoken, giving him the space he needed while he grieved and was there afterwards to hug him and dry his tears.

At the beginning, you’d only stop by and help him in the library or check out a novel or two, but as you became a frequent visitor, you stopped coming just to help him…and started coming just to see him.

He remembered how one day, you had arrived at the library as usual. A perplexed look on your darling face with your hands behind your back. You had spent all of the night before carefully crafting a special bouquet of lilies and tulips. Making sure there wasn't anything in it he was allergic to.

After dancing around the subject, you had slowly confessed her feelings to him.

The next hour was spent in the back room of the library. Feverishly groping another and kissing frantically, your glasses kept sliding against each other’s as you both ran to rip each other's clothes off another's bodies.

Miguel was still that simple man he was all those years ago when he moved to the sleepy town of Nueva. The idea of building a real relationship with someone scared him from how many times he'd been hurt in the past and the fresh wounds from the death of his child.

But now he has you. He has someone to come home to besides the empty walls of his little cottage home. He has a significant other to fill that void and to lift him up, someone to be his lock screen picture.

Someone to tell all the things he’s learned from the regulars at the library. He told you about Ben getting catfished, Peter winning MJ over with homemade ratatouille and a promise, about Pav and Gayatri’s kiss while the both of you snuggled up on the couch over a bottle of strawberry wine.

You'd both started the relationship a little rocky, not knowing whether this was right with the things Miguel was working through then. But it soon proved to be the best decision either of you could have made.

He had your wedding picture next to Gabriela's school picture day portrait on his desk.

His favorite parts of his day were when you’d walk from your shop to the library on your lunch break to eat together, and in the evenings when he'd read the book you were currently reading out loud to you, before going to sleep together.

He was still that simple man, but now he’d share his bagels with you. He’d offer to iron your clothes for you, and even when you didn’t understand, he showed you how to play sudoku on the long train rides. Even though you were just nodding along to hear him talk about something he enjoyed.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #2099<3 #spiderman 2099 #writing #across the spiderverse #fluff #miguel ohara fluff #just cutesy reader being cutesy w their man #tooth rotting fluff

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heavenlytouches · 3 months ago

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Are u planing on doing a sfw version of your nsfw alphabet for Logan??

Hello love and well ofcourse! I'm such a sucker for X-men lately since I re-watched all the movies TwT. You say it, I write it :D

El <3

Logan Howlett- SFW! alphabet

༺ ˎˊ-

GN reader

<3 (SFW)

TW-none

Wolverine alphabet headcanons

("wow, you're like a kitty-cat")

(Logan Howlett- NSFW alphabet)

Logan Howlett

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection)

I feel like Logan would show you affection when you two would be alone

You can't blame him, he needs to keep up his though persona

He would love to hold your hand in public and hug you but don't expect nothing more (maybe a quick peck before leaving on a mission)

When you're all alone it's a different story- he would be all over you, finding comfort in your arms

"Kiddo, not here.... well, okay but just a hand.."

b - best friend (what would they be like as a best friend?)

YoungLogan! with Rogue? Do I need to say more? He would be the most protective person ever

Logan would love to spend time with you, dropping his grumpy attitude

Whatever you need, a hug, a shoulder to cry on or just a partner in crime; he's here

"I will take care of you."

c - cuddles (would they like to cuddle? how do they cuddle?)

At first you will have to pull his sleeve until he just agrees and gives you cuddles

When Logan finally drops his guard down he would be a literal cuddle monster, he just looks rlly touchy to me

When he needs comfort he would squeeze right against you, muttering a small "sorry" for squishing you too hard

Your head against his toned chest, softly rising with his breathing, finally safe and sound

"Oh, sorry dear I just really missed you."

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Right now his thoughts are occupied with saving the humankind and helping others

If the world was a safer place he would already have a small hut with you and your kids/pets

With some talk and understanding, Logan would agree with such a normal and calm life, happy to settle down with you

I feel like he would be the sweetest about it, happy to finally live like a normal person

"You know what, love... I think we deserve to take some time for ourselves."

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He already lost a lot of people he looked up to/loved so I think this would be impossible in his mind

If he had to break up with you, he would do it mostly because he wants to protect you (or because he thinks he's not enough)

Logan is a grown man, he would sit you down and explain it to you

"Look... I'm just scared they will hurt you.."

f = fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Like I said, his mind is occupied with other stuff but once everything settles down, sure

He loves the idea of you two being engaged, actually- he dreams about it

Logan would find the prettiest ring, immediately thinking about you and your soft smile

I feel like he would be a bit awkward while asking you, trying to push down his -softie- side (mission failed)

"Uhh.. I.. I wanted to ask you-"

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Logan would act like you're made out of porcelain

He would be so gentle as if you'd break at any given moment

Soft touches, caresses and kisses, not to hurt his precious lover

He even talks in full whispers around you just don't others notice

"Come here love, just carefully."

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

Bear hug. No questions asked.

Logan would wrap his big arms around you, gently squeezing and bringing your body closer to his

His muscular arms trapping you against his chest as he leans down and kisses your forehead

He could stay like this for a while, not caring who stares at him

"I'm here dear. it's gonna be okay, shhh."

i = i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

At first he just nodded at you or kissed you as a response

The first time Logan said "I love you" was after a mission, returning home and being deathly scared for your well being

Seeing you safe and sound in your house, he would run to the door, picking you up and spinning you in his arms

"Oh my God, you're okay... I love you so so much."

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

Yes. Just yes.

He would be really jealous, more than an average person

Logan wouldn't be controlling or toxic, he would just simply give nasty looks from afar (maybe even flash a claw or two)

When he would sense the things getting weirder and the person beside you getting closer, man would just appear out of thin air

His dorky and mean comments would shoo the other person away but you can't blame him, you love him either way

"They were so boring, right?....right?"

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

Logan is a simple man, kisses on his lips, cheek, neck, he loves it

No matter where- if he can feel your lips, he's a happy man

I feel like his kisses would be kinda rough, just trying to taste you and enjoy the sweet taste of your lips

He would probs get grumpy if you don't greet him with a kiss

"Oh yeah, and where's my kiss at?"

l = little ones (how are they around children?)

He tolerates kids if they don't annoy him much

Logan is a great person and would make a great dad to your kid but no pressure, if you're in- he's in too

If you don't want kids and prefer paw-kids, no problem! He can be a cat/dog dad instead!

"Aww that's so cut-HEY DON'T TOUCH DADDY'S CLAWS!"

m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

Lazy kisses and embraces as the sun softly shines through the windows

Logan is not a morning person, he enjoys laying around and rolling in warm bed with you in his arms

I'm sure he's the type to drag you back down in bed when you try to get up, kissing you lazily

Poor man stays in bed for too long since he doesn't get good nights sleep

"What? Is my hair weird again?"

n = night (how are nights spent with them?)

Since he's been with you, his night terrors are getting better

Logans sleeping is fixed a bit, still having nightmares sometimes but your warm body next to his always calms him down

When you'd hear him whimpering or feel him tossing around, just hug the poor man and hear his breathing go back to normal, his claws pulling back

"Did I do it again? Damn...sorry baby.."

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take some time till his guard falls down

He is used to people using him or toying with him so he doesn't really trust you in an instant when he met you

When Logan noticed your pure intentions and understanding, he begins to open and soon enough you're sitting on his lap and he's telling you his life story

"And then, we saw him. A new mutant called Deadpool, so what happened next is-"

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

It's Logan we're talking about

He can get pretty angry but if that's the case- he will excuse himself to get a breath of fresh air to calm him down

If you are in a fight he would try to sort it out after having a little break, apologising and talking it out like a real man

Just be sure, whatever you say or do you will NEVER anger him to the point where he would shoot out his claws

"Wait a minute kid, you got it all wrong, let me."

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He would remember the most important things like special dates, some preferences and so

You can't blame him, he's got a lot on his mind so he can forget a thing or two

He knows a lot about you but some details might slip from his mind

Nonetheless you love him so you can't blame the poor busy man

"Wait...you REALLY said that earlier?"

r = remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

His favourite moment was when you first comforted him about his night terrors

Logan remembers it vividly, it was midnight and he was having -one of those nights-, everything was dark, full of screams and cries of pain, he was shaking, his claws subconciously flying out

Until he felt a soft pair of hands wrap around him, jerking awake he saw you sitting next to him, lowered in his embrace

Logan will always remember that exact moment as a moment when he fell in love with you

"Thank you, dear. I will never forget this."

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

He's the most profective person you know, overprotective even

From helping you do your work and chores so you "don't get hurt" all the way to fighting for you and your life

If somebody tries to hurt you, Logan is ready to rip them in pieces

"Careful now, get away from them!"

t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's not all roses and petals but he would try to make everything perfect for you

Logan is a sweet man but romance is not really fully his thing so he might ask Storm or Rogue for help with date preparations

Of course, he would say it's all his work and effort

"Do you like how uh- I decorated this? I thought you might love it."

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He would be too harsh to himself

I feel like Logan would always think you can have a better man than him, somebody not so "mutant"

Just be patient and reassure him, he will understand it's you and him, nobody else

"You deserve so much better kid..."

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

Logan is a SNACC and he knows it

Whatever he puts on looks great on him so it's no big deal

The only problem he would have is his hair, man would spend more than 20 mins every morning to get it done

Also he secretly finds it adorable when you tease him for his "cat ears" (youngLogan! I will never get over your hairdo)

"Babe can you help me? This strand is untameable!"

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

You are his missing puzzle piece

He was lonely ever since the indicent with Kayla, not knowing what to do to stop that feeling

When Logan is around you he feels complete, like everything is in it's place, burried deep inside his heart

"So umm, dare to come closer?" ;)

x = xtra (a random headcanon for them)

He finds it cute when you show interest in his powers, it makes him think he's -less of a freak- (you're not a freak bby :()

Just his big hand in your smaller ones, showing you his claws as you watch in awe

Logan loves the way you graze his knuckles between the blades, watching with interest

"Just careful dear, be careful."

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I feel like he would find it a -red flag- if you'd mention his past or anything about his family/ex wife

Those were really traumatic events for Logan and he doesn't like to remember that

If he feels comfortable enough he will tell you one day about it but don't pressure him on your own

"Honey, trust me, you don't want to know."

z = zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Except screaming and yelling he can't sleep still

Even if you fall asleep before him, the moments he climbs next to you and fall asleep- his head his where his feet are supposed to be

No matter how and where you guys fall asleep he ALWAYS ends up on you or on your side

"I did it again, didn't I?"

Delivered as requested! I hope y'all like this little drabble. Also, if you'd like to see anything about OTHER Xmen characters (or others in general) be sure to request something!

I love you guysss

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

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thevirtualvalentine · 1 year ago

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000. NARUTO, OBITO UCHIHA.

content warnings: (rough) face fucking, tobi who uses his madara impression on you, afab / femme reader, tbh he’s kinda mean, reader wants this guy bad, fatdicked!obito (real),

plot: you fuck around and find out with Tobi, they say curiosity killed the cat.

Can you imagine hanging around the akatsuki, for some reason you’re like .. really attached (attracted) to the goofy guy in the mask that’s just so silly and kinda a joy to be around. He’s real sweet to you and overall a lot different than the other cloaked members you’d met, he talks a bunch too! It helps to fill the more quiet spaces in your life.

You start trying to hold his hand, he’s pretty skittish at first. Pulling away and retracting before he’s the one initiating the touch with you in full force. Grabbing onto you or jumping into your arms when mean n’ grumpy Deidara yells at him for being a shitty partner and a sasori replacement. “Y/n!! Save me! Deidara-senpai is being a big ole meanie. Tobi doesn’t deserve this inhumane treatment! I’ll be calling HR on you.” Always dramatic and so whiny.

Then you keep seeing him, spending time with him alone in remote hideouts. He never takes off that mask of his, but you can clearly see his deep dark eye that stares into you. Even if your conversation isn’t ever breaching bellow surface level, you know he’s listening intently. He may be unserious and full of quirks, but he really does have his own sense of charm. You’ve always felt there was more to this guy than what he’s showing, maybe if you got to know him a bit more .. personally you’d figure it out.

One day you honestly just can’t take it anymore. “Tobi have you ever .. uhhh , you know.” You’re playing with your hands because you feel entirely ridiculous asking this masked entity such a lewd question. You’re starting to think it’s because of that same damn mask that you’re where you are now.

“Have I ever what y/n! You can tell me, Tobi’s a great listener~” he goads you, completely unaware of the whorish request you have in store for him. That same cheerful voice that makes you feel so comforted is asking you to be honest with him, your legs touching as you sit together on the floor.

“Y’know, you ever do it with anyone?” You’re gesturing with your hands nervously as he tilts his head in confusion.

“Do it? Do what! Tobi doesn’t quite understand what pretty miss y/n is asking for.” He places his hands together while leaning his head to the side, playing such an innocent role in all this.

“Has anyone ever sucked your dick?” You can’t even bother to face his masked appearance as it finally tumbled forth from your lips, the question you’ve been itching to ask. “Like, touched you in a way you liked or that felt really good?” He can’t be that unadulterated can he? If so this was going to be a very awkward conversation.

“Ooooo, does y/n wanna make Tobi feel good? Naughty girl asking such questions.” He waggles his finger at you as if to insinuate you were a pervert for asking him anything like that. He doesn’t answer your question but he doesn’t deny it either, pulling the tide of control back into his own hands.

“Eugh not when you put it like that” you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, heat rising throughout your body wishing you could take back what you just asked.

“Tobi doesn’t mind, m’not stoppin you.” A schoolgirl like giggle escapes him as he stands up, shedding the ostentatiously long coat. Oh wow, you didn’t expect this guy to be so built, what the hell was he hiding under that cloak? An all black ensemble that covers him from head to toe but defines all of his muscle groups with a pair of black gloves. Still, the omnipresent mask doesn’t move.

You’re stuck peering up at him from your knees as he slides his fingers beneath your chin, angling your head to face him as he’s shrouded in light. “Still wanna suck my cock? Or did you change your mind.” When he speaks this time he doesn’t sound like Tobi, his eye flickers to life in dark red hues through the hole of his mask. The deep tone makes your jaw drop as you stare at him dumbly, grabbing his wrist as you scramble to make sense of what just happened. His entire being just changed in front of you, not even his chakra feels the same as it did before. They say curiosity killed the cat.

“Tobi?” You ask, almost afraid of what his answer could be. His chakra is dark and ominous, cool and uninviting as it swallows you whole. If Tobi had left and been replaced with another person in the blink of an eye, you’d believe them.

“No.” It’s simple, but you’ll take it. “Go on.”

You meekly nod your head while obeying his command, that voice of his is making your underwear drenched. That same red eye watches your nimble hands shake as you pull his cock out, “I’ll take care of you, good care.” The unnamed man pats your head in an effort to calm you but you just keep getting wetter and wetter each time he speaks. Something in his mannerism compels you to listen as if you’re in a trance.

“So obedient, what a good girl.” He’s not unaware of what his voice is doing to you, sharingan abilities and all. He just finds it cute, been waiting for this day for months. The day you stop beating around the bush and ask him for what he wants.

He’s thick, much thicker and longer than what you thought a man like Tob— no, whoever this man is, would be. You lick your lips at the sight of his angry brown tip that’s leaking thick globs of pre cum, begging for you to lick it up. He’s so hard it’s slapping against his own abdomen. What kind of expression must be on his face beneath that mask to be this stiff right in front of you.

He revels in the way you size him up, unabashed staring at the monster hidden beneath his pants. He thanks his Uchiha genes for such a pretty cock, it’s truly a masterpiece. “Don’t be shy when you were so eager earlier, I don’t bite.” A heavy chuckle leaves him as you start to work his pre up and down his shaft, spitting in your hands as it requires both appendages to fully jerk him off.

Once you find a rhythm with your hands that satisfies the man before you enough to elicit a grunt, you pop his head between your lips, suckling on the slit hoping to make him moan out. “Just like that, what a smart girl you are. You really know how to suck dick, hm?” But again, it’s him making you gush and clench your thighs as you sit up on your knees to suck him off. If you knew it was gonna be like this you would have asked Tobi to fuck eons ago, what the hell???

You start to take more of him in your mouth inch by inch, using a hand to brace yourself against his toned thigh. Your wrist twists in atune with each bob of your head along his girth as your cheeks hollow in. You try breathing through your nose so you won’t ruin the mood by gagging, but he’s just too thick. “What? Too big for you? Thought you wanted to suck my dick.”

You pull off of him trying to explain yourself but he doesn’t care, grabbing you by the curls as his red eye lowers in disappointment. “Less talking, ore sucking.” You’re shoved back on his fat cock while it jabs the back of your throat, effectively face fucking you.

“Your throat’s so warm, mhhm, and tight. Can you breathe down there?” Drool dribbles down his balls as your throat constricts around his cock. Tears forming in your waterline from the assault on your throat. You want to touch yourself to relieve the unbearable ache in your cunny from being used as a hole to fuck but the lack of oxygen makes you dumb, compliant in whatever way he holds your head still with his big hands. His heavy balls slap your chin with each thrust into your face.

It’s exhilarating and you almost wish you could thank him for using you so well, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving. You gurgle around his shaft with each drag of his hips, he doesn’t moan but groans when your tongue laps the underside of his cock. “Such a cute little thing, kept following me around. Wanted to fuck this throat so bad. Kept teasing me too, bet you were fantasizing about it.”

To say this is what you were expecting is far from the truth, you thought you’d have Tobi crying and whimpering while giving him the sloppiest top of his life, but here you are; having your throat bruised by a man you never truly knew. Shouldn’t you be scared? Alarmed?

Your cunt betrays you, oozing at the thought of what his heavy dick could do to your insides. You’d go slack from the intrusion alone, would it even all fit inside you?

Your jaw feels like it’s going to break off it’s hinges if he isn’t more careful with you, but it’s addicting with each revolution of his hips. The black fabric of his shirt riding up to expose scarred skin. Your hands trail up to his v-line and he shudders, “ahh— fuck, don’t do that.” He grabs a fist full of your hair before shoving you down further, not caring if you choke or not. “Make yourself useful, will you?”

His strong hands grip the side of your head, continuously fucking your throat raw in a way that you won’t be able to speak tomorrow. Each thrust of his hips lets the tip of his fat dick kiss the back of your throat and it makes your eyes roll back into your skull. You’re moaning, crying, drooling all from one man and it’s making you stupid.

“Fuck, swallow it. All of it, or there’ll be trouble to pay later.” The playfulness of his voice reminds you of Tobi, but the underlying threat awards you a pang of pleasure in your cunt. Moaning around him sends vibrations that rattle his being, at least you’re listening. “Be good and I may just keep you around.”

He throws his head back with a long groan as he keeps you pinned to his pelvis, you can only take it as his warm seed spills down your throat. You didn’t even have a choice to swallow it or not. Shallow strokes accompany soft curses as he grips your hair for purchase, orgasm causing him to shudder above you. He stumbles back a bit, letting you take care of his after shocks. You slowly pump him as you recover your breath, “you taste good.”

Voice already hoarse but you felt he deserved a compliment for fucking your throat raw. He simply laughs, tucking himself back in his pants. The discarded cloak on the ground resumes being draped back over his shoulders. “And don’t forget~ whatever you saw here you don’t speak about!” He’s back to to twirling around in that idiotic high pitched voice you love so much, a stark contrast to what just happened here. He grabs your hand to pull you up from the floor, wiping your knees of any debris in an animated fashion.

“It’s a Tobi and y/n secret, right y/n?” He extends his pinky to you while you stare at him incredulously trying to figure out which one is the real him.

You’ll later come to find out that it was neither.

#obito #tobi?#Tobi who is acting like Madara but is actually just obito #obito smut #Tobi smut #is that a tag — do people wanna fuck tobi?#obito x reader #tobi x reader #obito x you #obito x y/n #naruto smut #naruto x reader

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nolanfa-fanart · 15 days ago

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Gen (non-romantic) fics recs: DC, the Batfamily has Issues

Gen (Non-romantic) Fic recs for @genuaryficrecs (and anyone else who likes good fic)

Fandom: DC, batfam Focus: The Bat family has Issues This is the place for comically bad at communication!batfam, oh gosh you have so many issues (affectionate), trauma, etc. Please assume that every "Why I love it" summary is prefaced with "This is one of my fave DC fics. First, it's very well-written. Second, ". List under the readmore.

I'm a Good Pretender, by shipNslash ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/45598369 ) 7/7 chapters, 40.416 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply Main characters: Dick mostly, and Bruce

Official Summary: “You’re doing it again,” Bruce says, tone accusatory. “You’re faking.” “It’s not faking,” Dick snaps, a little more aggressive than he means to be. But he doesn’t like that word, doesn’t like the connotations. (Especially when he knows Bruce is lying about something, too.) “Then what is it?” “It’s called being charming and it’s nice.” -_- Dick’s mother raised her son to be a star. Dick’s father raised his son to be an athlete. Bruce's new ward is charming (manipulative), dedicated (obsessive), and way, way too smart for either of their own good.

Why I love it: This is peak Performer Dick. Smart kid Dick who knows how to make people like him. Hyperactive Dick. And Wet Cat Battinson. Who wouldn't want to see them interact?

Excerpts: "Oh. From the- That is, yes. I'm, uh, I'm Richard's case worker." The boy visibly twitches and she redirects her attention. "Hello, Richard. Are you al- um, How are you feeling?" Alfred almost winces but, instead of withdrawing again or lashing out, Richard does something much, much more distressing. Right in front of Alfred, the boy transforms into someone totally different. His posture shifts, from despondent slackness to a sort of tense hunch, making him look far younger and in much more distress. His expression loses the blankness of shock as his bottom lip wobbles and his eyes well up with big, fat tears. "I wanna go home,” he cries out. “Please, I just wanna go home!" - And Dick is glad that this isn’t their first meeting, because Mister Wayne is painfully, intolerably awkward the whole time. He flinches every time someone addresses him, only makes eye contact with the toes of his scuffed converse shoes, and sneaks out the back door halfway through with Mister Pennyworth when he is very obviously losing a battle against an oncoming panic attack. How did this guy survive being famous, Dick wonders, watching him creep back in like he won’t be noticed if he’s quiet enough.

-- By Any Other Name, by ManURonaldo, part of the Like Father Like Sons series https://archiveofourown.org/works/40244490 1/1 chapters, 4.569 words (part of a 55k series) T, Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings (brief mention of Jason's mom) Main characters: Jason and Bruce (decent Dick, Steph and Tim presence in the rest of the series)

Official Summary: “Have you seen Bruce recently?” Dick asks one night. “Haven’t seen Bruce since the last time I saw you,” Jason responds. He can feel the weight of Tim’s eyes on him though, and it’s grating. “WHAT, Tim?” “You saw him last night,” Tim responds after a moment, flicking his eyes towards Dick. “Literally last night, man.” “Yeah,” Jason responds without thinking, because he hasn’t slept in 58 hours, “I saw Batman last night. I haven’t seen Bruce in a month.” For a moment, there’s complete silence. And then, in an exasperated whisper, Dick says: “what the fuck, Jay?” OR: Jason picks up a little bit more from Bruce than he means to as Robin. It doesn’t go away, not even when he’s Hood. OR: Jason watches Bruce. Tim watches Jason. Dick watches Tim. They all need therapy.

Why I love it: I love that one. I love the way it features Identity Issues. The first story in the series is about Jason and Bruce, and following ones are also about Jason's relationships with Dick, Tim, Steph, and the way those different relationships interact. The Tim and Jason part (in the following stories) in particular goes way deeper than the usual dynamic of resentment for taking Robin / for past violence, and looks at why, now, they might or might not like / understand each other. Each of the batfam members is fucked up in different ways, which I love.

Excerpts: Jason is six years old and sometimes he feels like his dad is two different people in one body. There’s a person in there that loves him and holds him even though he’s too big to be held and makes him breakfast in the morning. And there’s another person in there, too, who thinks Jason is annoying and spoiled and always in the way and a problem. There are signs, is the thing: Jason can figure out who he’s talking to, if he’s quiet enough. It’s about the way the footsteps in the hallway sound, it’s about the label on the bottle in his dad’s hand. Sometimes when Jason enters a room he makes a noise just to see: if he squeaks his shoe and his dad doesn’t notice, it’s his nice dad. If his dad grimaces or glares, it’s the dad that doesn’t like him, and Jason needs to leave. It’s all about knowing who he’s talking to, Jason learns. If he knows who he’s talking to, he can be better about making mistakes.

-- May Tomorrow Never Come, by @lurkinglurkerwholurks https://archiveofourown.org/works/43606872 1/1 chapters, 3.580 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply Main Characters: Jason and Bruce

Official Summary: Jason clawed his way out of the nightmare like a drowning man.

Why I love it: First, I think it is very good, as a fic specifically. All fics live in the soup of canon and fanon facts we absorbed along the way, and you knowing who the characters are and what happens to them in different iterations informs your understanding of them, but this one does it particularly well. Second. It broke my heart. It talks about trust and intimacy and kid/parent relationships and fear and nostalgy and love and. I love it.

Excerpts: The Manor waited outside the door, exactly like it should be. The hallway was quiet and dark, the darkness tight and full, but not scary. He hadn’t been scared here since those first few months, when this place was only a place. He couldn’t be scared at home, no matter how his head spun and his nerves jumped and jittered.

-- Red Letter Day, by @silverwhittlingknife https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988874 9/? chapters, 41,819 words (technically part of a series but can be read as standalone) - WIP, last updated july 2022 G, Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings (some oblique references to the blockbuster plotline) Main Characters: Dick

Official Summary: Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (… Though only after everything fell apart first.) Eventual fix-it for Dick & Tim’s Red Robin fight, but other rocky relationships - Dick & Jason, Tim & Damian, Damian & Bruce, Dick & Bruce - wow, this family is dysfunctional - might improve too. Eventually. They just have to, y’know, work through All of Their Issues first. XD

Why I love it: The characterization is delightful. Dick tries to hold the world on his shoulders, scrambling to hold everyone together; he's also very much not perfect, and biaised and petty against specific other people. Jason is an antagonistic asshole but he tries. Tim doesn't understand boundaries but means really really well. They love each other very much but they're afraid and they just talk over / through / just to the left of each other. This is a dumpster fire. Also the end notes of each chapter include interesting tidbits about what is canon (with specific runs/issues) which I personally find super interesting.

Excerpts: This is out-of-character: deliberately unprofessional. And it’s definitely deliberate. Dick doesn’t want to second-guess Tim’s first amicable overture in what feels like years. He catches himself doing it anyway. When Tim was fourteen, the faceplant comment might have been spontaneous - just a wry observation, maybe with a quick grin, sharing the joke. But Tim’s older now, and a lot more serious. So this casual remark is actually calculated. So what is this? An attempt to recapture an old camaraderie? Or is Tim covering up a bad mood with a chipper attitude? Or is this another manifestation of Tim’s concern, a test to gauge Dick’s mood? Argh. Or maybe Tim is just being friendly, Grayson.

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