#vanilla is a low key flirt
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.
singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader
✶Casual was much harder rule to abide by when Eddie spent more time with you, as facilitated by his daughter. Dialed back was a flirting style you weren't accustomed to, and proved near-impossible to follow when Eddie's lips were pressed to your ear.✶
NSFW — slow burn, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, slight scent kink, allusion to jerking off, reader wears eddie's jacket, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, 18+ overall for eventual smut
chapter: 5/20 [wc: 15.1k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12
AO3
Chapter 5: You're Gonna Get Me in Trouble
————
The days of the week lost their meaning in the best way. Turning from one to the next like the colors of the leaves. Falling in and out of obscurity. What was a Monday, when Monday felt like Friday? And what was a Friday, when the familiar clicking sound of your bicycle spokes found him on a Saturday?
The days blurred. The edges sharpened. They were long when the sun was short. They were beautiful, and aggressively tender, including the lows, because the lows themselves used to be the highs.
The days swirled into an everlasting seasoned breeze of cherished moments. Too many to fill the memories of those collecting them. Glimpses into a life of pleasantness–of contentedness–if one were to grasp them.
————
Leather. Vanilla cologne. Spicy deodorant and earthy tobacco.
You grabbed the cuffs of your sweater into your fists and worked your arms down the sleeves of Eddie’s jacket before grabbing your bike from the porch, and setting off on your shortcut through the frosty grass.
The farther you journeyed, the more you smelled like him. The more you sounded like him.
In Robin’s driveway, cigarette smoke overwhelmed your nose, but as your skin warmed from exertion, the nuances appeared. The natural musk clinging to the inside lining, and the artificial fragrances on top, now enveloping you. You turned onto the main road leading to the auto shop, and the chains on the sleeve cuff clinked against the broken zipper. Bouncing your tire up onto the sidewalk, the snap tab collar jangled in time with the small rocks you rode over on the way to the front employee door. You dismounted your bike in a fluid motion, and the supple leather made to fit Eddie creaked and groaned as you got out your keys.
The door opposite you in the garage was ajar, meaning he was smoking in the alleyway.
Quietly, you went to the break room, and said your peace. “Boy’s clothes are always better.”
Standing in front of the coat hooks, you slipped your hands into the pockets and pulled out the items for no other reason than to observe them in remembrance, as if you hadn’t inspected them for hours over the weekend. A half-empty pack of Camels crowded with rolling papers. Translucent green BIC lighter. A grocery receipt from two weeks ago with an obscene amount of pasta and marinara listed on it. A peppermint candy wrapper you could now confirm came from the candy dish on your desk intended for customers. And, of course, a tiny blue high heel shoe belonging to a Barbie doll. Because what father wouldn’t have that in their pocket.
Returning the items from whence they came, you fished a strip of paper out of your jeans, and added it to his treasure.
You removed the warmth you’d become accustomed to, and stared at the coat hook. You glanced down the hallway. Listened for Eddie.
Silence pressed in on you.
Intentionally, after spending more time doing this in bed than you cared to admit, you found his scent to be the strongest on the inside of the collar, and brought it to your nose.
Hugging the jacket to your chest, you inhaled deep, and sighed.
Years of the leather being draped around his neck did wonders for your loneliness since moving here. Last night you caved despite the voice in your head telling you it was weird to find comfort in your coworker’s belongings. As you stared into pitch-black attic, laying alone in a borrowed twin size bed with someone else’s parent’s hand-me-down blankets, cold, and without the glow or noise of the city to keep you company, you surrendered, and wrapped yourself in him. It was a split second decision, quickly overwhelmed by a sensation you hadn’t felt in quite some time. And it was an emotion you were more than happy to shove behind the other clutter in your brain, vowing you’d unpack it some other day, totally. Definitely. You’d absolutely process the heady buzz, and delightful sweat breaking out across your skin at the thought of your coworker’s arms giving you this embrace, and being able to press your nose to the crook of his neck to experience his salty taste on your tongue first-hand.
A squeaky truck passed by on the street, breaking you out of your spell.
“Good God, get a hold on yourself,” you begged aloud, and hung up the jacket.
~~~
The coffee machine sputtered liquid energy into the pot, signifying the end of your morning chores. And yet, Eddie had not made his appearance, whether it was wanted or not, depending on if he was hiding around a corner, or doing the thing he did where he stood next to you and looked like he wanted to say something, but never did.
The back door was still ajar. You poked your head out, and he was there, leaning against the wall. The stubby end of his cigarette was pinched between his forefinger and thumb with a trail of smoke coming off of it.
Early sunrays pierced the tree-lined horizon, gilding the silhouette of his nose in brilliant beauty. He heard you step onto the rocks, and rolled his head to the side to watch you stand between him and his car. The sun caught his hair. Glanced off the gentle slope of his cheek. Caused him to squint one of his eyes, and wrench his mouth into a lopsided grimace.
“Good morning,” he was first to say.
“Good morning,” you replied brightly. “You cut your hair.” By the way his face fell, you gathered he assumed no one would notice, but the feathery edge of his bangs curled higher onto his forehead, flaunting the harsher shadows of his confusion. You reassured him, “It looks good.”
He continued to stare at you without an emotion you could decipher.
“Really good?” you added, thinking he was seeking a better compliment.
With a soft smile and averted gaze, he flicked the ash from his cigarette, and admitted, “Sometimes I have problems vocalizing my thoughts before they’re gone, and I forget you can’t hear them if I don’t blurt them out. Luckily, my daughter demonstrated much better manners than I did, and thanked you for her costume, while I–”
“Waved for an obscenely long time, and then made fun of me,” you finished.
On cue, you both made eyes at each other, and looked away.
The sun couldn’t compete with his smile. The birdsong couldn’t compete with your giggle.
“Yeah,” he exhaled in a croaky groan. “I did do that, didn't I?” You shrugged and told him it didn’t bother you. It was just how you teased each other. “Still, thank you for putting in so much effort to make it special for her. She was crazy excited when she saw it. My uncle, too. I–uh, I appreciate you doing that for us more than I let on.”
“I know you do.” While Eddie may not have shared many of the details of his life prior to your arrival in Hawkins, it was evident in his every decision that people were not frequently kind to him, and the simple act of noticing he trimmed his bangs was something he’d think about for days.
“You think my hair looks good?” he asked, circling back to the original topic.
“The bangs, or everything?”
After a beat of consideration, he ventured, “Everything?”
You tilted your head. “Oh, it’s outdated. Messy. Unprofessional and like you just woke up from a 7-year coma. The worst case of bed head I’ve ever seen. More like a bird’s nest after a storm than anything, but yeah, it suits you. Can’t picture you with any other hairstyle, to be honest.” His expression was a mixture of bafflement, yet also flattery. You put emphasis on the latter. “I love it. It’s wild. I think you look good,” followed by, “for a weirdo,” to dodge the implication of calling him attractive.
In the long seconds that ensued, you rocked from foot to foot, waiting for him to say anything. Do anything besides stare at you with a slight smirk. Anything at all to make you feel like your nervous habits weren’t being examined under a microscope.
Cheeks suitably burning from the shyness of saying too much, you tugged your sleeves into your sweaty palms, and pivoted while saying, “Welp, time for me to be anywhere else on Earth but here.”
You swung open the door to the garage and he spoke up.
“You look pretty today.”
Halting your momentum on a dime, you slid your gaze from the floor to him–to his way of pressing his shoulder blades to the brick wall, leaning his full weight into the pose, arms crossed over his chest, cigarette between his lips, eyes set on you with an irresistible amount of tenderness to them.
You said, “Thank you, handsome,” and left the door open behind you.
But before you walked inside, before you blinked away, you watched that tenderness widen to excitement. You saw the soft curve of his mouth stretch to a smile. Heard him expel his breath in a single stunned laugh. And you listened to his voice fade as he turned his face up to the sky, and took the final drag on his cigarette with a smug mumble of, “Knew it.”
————
The next morning you stared at the full coffee pot suspiciously. The countertop was wiped clean and the powder creamer container was replaced, alongside the sugar packets being restocked.
Still wearing your backpack, you slipped off one strap, swung it around to unzip the top, and put away your lunch in the fridge. While bent over, you surveyed the room again, and narrowed your eyes at the shiny glass pot filled with dark brown coffee.
A certain someone was feeling generous today, helping you out with your morning chores, and that certain someone was currently sneaking behind your desk.
Pretending to mull over who could do such a courteous thing for you, you ran your finger over the packets. Neatened the coffee stirrers. Hummed a pleasing tune as you left the room with heavy steps. Stomp, stomp, stomp, all the way to the end of the hallway, meandering just before you would turn to sit at your desk.
“Raaah!” Eddie jumped from behind the wall–hunched over, hands clawed at you, face etched with utter deviousness, grinning broadly to bare his teeth.
You took the coffee stirrer and thwacked him on the forehead before sidestepping to your chair.
His wickedness withered away. “Hey,” he complained, rubbing the sore spot. “How did you–?”
“Your reflection, dork.”
He clicked his tongue and peered down the hall at the full coffee pot and microwave door, both giving away his movements. “Damnit.”
————
Lunches together became the norm.
Even after Carl and Kevin left the room to ruminate over the real clunker of a car that came in yesterday, you and Eddie remained crowded together on one side of the round table, eating.
You swiped the crumbs from your sandwich into your container. “How’s Adrie’s sleep been? I thought the whole ‘regression’ thing was just for babies.”
Eddie spoke with his mouth full of half-chewed spaghetti, gesturing with his fork, “Usually, yeah. It’s more like she has nightmares ‘nd stuff. Scared of the dark. Monsters under the bed. That sorta thing.” He hadn’t even swallowed before dipping his garlic toast in the marinara sauce and taking a bite. “It’s gotten better, though. I think only one nightmare these past two weeks.”
It happened last Wednesday. You remembered. After your boss and the other guys went home, Eddie fell asleep at the table, and you turned off the lights for him, letting him rest after taking his work jacket off the hook and placing it over his shoulders. He always pretends to not be awake when you do that, but you could tell from his breathing when he was awake and when he wasn’t.
“That’s good,” you said. “I had a talk with her on Halloween about how the dark wasn’t so scary; how she was a bat and bats love the dark, and I’m a mouse, we’re nocturnal, nighttime is just like daytime and there’s nothing to be afraid of, yada yada..” You trailed off upon seeing the faint shadow of his dimple flourish. “What?”
“That’s a genius move,” he said, impressed. “You sure you’re not a parent?”
You wanted to continue the conversation, you really did, but..
Sighing, you closed your eyes. “Eddie, you have sauce–just–all over your mouth.”
“–Shit, sorry.” Intent on rushing to the stack of napkins near the sink, he didn’t notice how close you were, and stumbled into your chair when standing up.
He caught himself on you. His hands were heavy on your shoulders as he regained his balance. Landing there on accident, yet it felt on purpose when they remained a moment longer, benefitting from your innate response to clasp your hands over his wrists and ask if he were all right, looking up at him with wide eyes of concern and your cheek pressed to his forearm.
He cursed another apology from above your head, and withdrew his grip–but only after you let go, too.
————
“Oh, Adrie, I found that shoe you were.. looking.. for?”
It was the weekend before Eddie managed to wear his leather jacket. He reached into the pocket after coming inside from smoking on the makeshift porch attached to the front of his uncle’s trailer, and uncurled his fingers.
The blue high heel rolled across his palm along with a folded piece of paper.
Jutting his bottom lip in confusion, he gave his daughter the shoe, and as she galloped to her room to play with her dolls, he opened the note.
sorry i stole your jacket
come to me for a prize when you find this :)
if you find this
So that’s why you gave him that weird expectant look every morning..
————
Facing you on the other side of your desk after a customer left the lobby with their receipt, Eddie held up the note pinched between his index and middle fingers. “What’s my prize?”
Elated, your eyes lit up at the sight, and you motioned for him to give it to you while you held the phone to your ear with your shoulder, and continued your conversation with the auto parts dealer. “So–Yeah, three of those,” you went on, making a note with your pencil on where you left off in the catalog. “Yes, the smaller size, please.” You wrote something on the back of the paper and gave it to him.
Eddie snatched it–darting his eyes over your handwriting–and his excitement melted.
you finally cleaned out your pockets
your prize is a job well done ♡
“That’s not a prize,” he said, face falling into a pouty glare.
Unamused by his inability to keep his mouth shut when you were clearly busy, you turned your hand over as if to ask ‘what did you expect?’ and directed a question at the man over the phone.
Not one to be ignored, Eddie began searching through the candy dish for a treasure to appease his appetite for a reward, and spilled peppermints over the side as he dug to the bottom.
You made a shushing gesture at him, widening your eyes at the crinkling wrappers interrupting you. “You’re out of those? Okay, then, I’ll move on to the door handle replacement. Let me just find the model number,” you spoke evenly into the receiver.
Eddie grunted, not finding what he was looking for.
You snapped your fingers at him, and pressed the phone to your chest to muffle yourself, “Do you not have a job or something?”
He held up a pink Now and Later, and asked in a stage-whisper, “Where’s all the butterscotch candy?”
“Bu–What?” you balked. “You ate them all? Those are for customers, Eddie! Yes, I’m still here,” you rattled off a make and model for the car. Eddie’s eyebrows rose at the quick switch from your speaking voice, to your cloyingly sweet customer service nasally octave, and back down to your annoyed tone at him. “Stop eating candy not meant for you and get back to work. You’re distracting me, you absolute nuisance.”
“Can you buy more butterscotch ones? Those are my favorite.”
“Sure, gramps, I’ll get right on it.”
Undeterred, or perhaps spurred on by earning your attention, he flattened his stomach to the ledge, and leaned over, invading your space to grab a stack of Post-it notes from the far end of your desk. Your Post-It notes. Your Post-It notes in his scuffed up, greasy hands, and his wavy hair sweeping from over his shoulders to block you from reading the lines of numbers and letters you were about to recite.
“What’re you..” You gave up when he grabbed your favorite pen.
You slid the catalog into your lap and turned away from him, facing the wall as you ordered the rest of the parts you needed, ending the call with an unintentional chat about the mild autumn weather–two minutes tops–and spun around to no one. Eddie had gone out to the garage. But not before sticking a note right smack dab in the middle of your desk where you couldn’t ignore it.
BUY MORE BUTTERSCOTCH
-EM
His initials. It was silly, but two months into knowing him, and you’d never heard his last name. It wasn’t said aloud by him, his friends, or the other mechanics. Maybe you’d remember to ask him what it is one day.
————
Eddie had one rule–no reading over his shoulder when he was writing in his black notebook.
“Oh, chill,” you scolded him. “I’m here to microwave my lunch, not read your diary.”
Mr. Moore was out of office and the photocopier was broken, meaning you had to bike to the drug store and use theirs, missing your lunch break. With Eddie being the only mechanic in today, and having no customers, he made himself at home over the hour you were gone to catch up on.. whatever it was he was catching up on.
He slammed the thin red book shut and flipped it over. And when he thought that wasn’t good enough, he smashed the looseleaf papers back into his binder, closed it, and scrambled for his notebook, tearing through it like a wild animal until he found a blank page. Quick–He spun in his chair and laced his fingers in his lap, donning a weak smile. About as composed as a floundering fish.
A pink flush crept up his neck, and his heavy breathing caused his unbuttoned coveralls to open wider over his chest, showing more than a glimpse at his black shirt underneath, stretched taut across his pecs.
His pencil dropped to the floor.
“Uh, hey. Didn’t hear you walk in.”
“Yeah, that much was obvious,” you snorted.
“What took you so long? I thought it’d be, like, 15 minutes tops. You could’ve read the manual and fixed our own copier by now.”
You popped open the lid to your container, and placed it in the microwave. “I’d rather jump off a bridge than sit there and read instructions. Anyway, I took a detour to see an apart–”
“Actually, that’s a good question. Would you jump off a bridge if someone asked, with your policy and all?”
“I’m not dignifying that with a response.” You punched two minutes on the timer. “As I was saying–Do you know that motel that closed down on Cypress? Bobbie told me it was a little mom-and-pop place that struggled to compete with the Motel 6.”
Perplexed as to where this was going, he squinted, and answered with a tepid, “Yeah?”
“Well,” you explained, “apparently someone bought the building and has been renovating them into apartments. I guess it wasn’t in too bad of a shape, with them just knocking down a few walls to make them into two bedrooms, and stuff. Bigger kitchens, whatever.” His features softened. The fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes lessened, and the tenseness in his jaw weakened. “Bobbie met the guy who’s renovating them and, uh, they’re gonna be available sometime at the beginning of next year, and the projected rent isn’t that bad. Really manageable for the both of us. As long as her dad is getting better, we could be moving out soon. It’d be nice to not live in their attic anymore, y’know.” You ended it almost on a lilt, as if it were a question, but maybe you were just goading him into saying what was on his mind, because with the way he was looking at you, you had no idea what had him so captivated.
“I–Yeah, I know the place you’re talking about. It’s just a few minutes from here.” And he added helpfully, “It’d be a shorter commute to work.”
“Yeah!” you exhaled, nodding in agreement. “Shorter commute.”
“Yeah,” he said again, allowing the information to wash over you both in different ways. “Closer to the grocery store, too.”
“Yeah. Yeah, and the laundromat.”
Eddie raised his brows. “Oh, nice. I use that place when our washing machine is broken.”
By some miracle you kept your mouth shut, saving yourselves the trouble of listing more establishments you’d be near when you moved. He must’ve realized the awkwardness as well, because he fidgeted with his fingers sheepishly.
“So, does that mean you’re staying in Hawkins?”
Hearing him take interest in your future kicked up your heart rate. It could be coming from a place of blunt curiosity, or conversational politeness, but like hell if your adrenaline didn’t surge from the unmistakable way he leaned in, hanging onto your every word, as the warm hum of the microwave served as background music to the glimmer of eagerness in his eyes.
Downplaying your excitement, you told him one eensy-weensy tiny caveat about your situation, “I am, but Robin’s moving in with Vickie at some point–don’t know when, but probably by the end of summer when she goes back to Indianapolis.. so.”
“And after that?”
“Dunno. I can float rent and bills by myself for a few months, but I’m not sure after that. Could tag along with them to the city, or stay here and, y’know, keep answering phones and annoying my favorite mechanic like I do now. Maybe even find someone willing to go on another date with me, since my first one was a bust.” He didn’t laugh. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll end up back in New York and audition for Cats.” You threw it out there as an outlandish possibility without serious consideration, and you thought you conveyed that through your jokey tone.
The microwave beeped.
You turned around, missing the way Eddie averted his gaze down and away before speaking.
“Just waiting for the next big thing to catch your eye and sweep you away, huh?”
“Not the first time you said that,” you commented teasingly, thinking you were still playing with each other. You grabbed your steaming rice and stirred it with a fork from the cutlery drawer. “What’s wrong? Afraid of not having a pretty girl sit across from you at lunch every day? Scared some other mechanic’s gonna need a receptionist, and then I’ll be gone? Or are you worried you’ll actually miss me if I leave?”
You giggled at your melodramatic phrasing and waited for him to respond. And when he didn’t, you looked over at him.
His shoulders rose and fell with his steady breaths as he thumbed through his notebook, mouth in a flat line.
Confusion stung embarrassment to your cheeks. Holding the hot tupperware, you asked, “Are we not eating together?”
He opened the binder and shifted closer to the table, scraping the chair legs across the tile, signifying the end of the conversation. Worse, still, he spoke in what would be a casual tone, if it weren’t for his rejective back facing you. “Actually, I’m trying to finish this,” he said, putting his pencil to the page and continuing the sentence where he left off.
“Oh.. Okay.”
You walked out the room and sat at your desk. Alone. Glaring at the stupid grains of rice and moving them around with your stupid fork and slouching over to rest your stupid cheek on your stupid fist.
Were you really less interesting than whatever he was writing in that notebook of his?
“Maybe I will find a bridge to jump off of,” you concluded, deciding you’d clock out on time in order to preserve your dignity. At least Robin would be home, and she would be honored to hang out with you.
————
An apology of sorts waited for you on your desk the next morning.
Three fresh-picked flowers in a chipped vase with a torn square of lined paper beside it.
YOURE RIGHT
I WOULD MISS
EATING WITH YOU
IM SORRY
-EM
The bud vase was from his home, the paper from his spiral bound notebook, and the dew-coated flowers from Hawkin’s soil–the last of their kind before the season put them to sleep.
Eddie wouldn’t be coming in today; he had the day off to take Adrie to the dentist. So, he woke up early to leave this peace offering when he could be sleeping in.
You set your elbows on you desk, and laced your fingers to rest your chin atop them, taking in the finer details of the periwinkle blue asters. After a moment, you traced your knuckle along your grin, and nibbled at the skin.
“So silly.”
————
And the morning after that, Eddie strayed from his bee line for coffee to approach you with a familiar meek posture; head lowered in deference, and a pouty expression of remorse on his lips.
The glass candy dish shined like a chest of golden coins awaiting him.
He folded his forearms on the ledge, and picked one of the butterscotch candies on top, pulling either end of the wrapper to unfurl it until the lustrous surface of the sweet flashed under the lobby’s lights.
You sank into your chair and watched him sweep his gaze across your desk in search of the flowers, and after not seeing them, he popped the candy in his mouth, and mumbled, “Does this mean you forgive me?”
Flitting your focus back and forth between his big eyes, you peered into each one, drawing out the moment by clicking your pen in thought, forcing him to sweat and fiddle with his wrapper in the echoey room. “Hmm..” You crossed your legs and shined your fingernails on your shirt, inspecting them.
His mouth twitched into a slight smile, favoring the side with his dimple.
Tipping his head so he was looking at you from under his lashes, he begged, “Come on, haven’t I groveled enough for you to have lunch with me later?” Bravery swelled his chest, jerked his chin in a smug nod once he had your attention. “Got you flowers and everything.”
You locked eyes with him for one, entire, sweet second, in which he winked at you.
Interestingly enough, you remembered you had paperwork to grab from Mr. Moore’s office, and rushed out sloppy sentences as you went, laying the sarcasm on thick to disguise the hitch in your throat, “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll have lunch with you if it’s that important to your livelihood, since you can’t live without me, or whatever.” You closed the office door behind you.
God, your face had never burned so hot.
~~~
And it was that night, when Eddie was alone with himself, he thought of the morning smiles through the glass window, and the afternoon laughs shared at the lunch table. The way you sat next to him and he moved his feet outward, spreading his legs to occupy as much space as possible. And he thought about how you accommodated him. Nudging his knee at first to test the waters, and when he responded by closing the distance between your shoe and his, you leaned towards him at the height of the story you were telling, and the length of your thigh pressed against him in a satisfying squish. He wasn’t entirely sure it was on purpose, but with the state he was in, it mattered not.
Eddie fluttered his eyes closed from blinking lazily at the shower head, stroking away the fleeting guilt of wondering if he should be testing his boundaries by thinking about you while doing this, even as his lips parted with silence, and his stomach tensed from pleasure.
Even as he held his shaky breath to keep himself mute, and his hand moved with renewed swiftness from his release mixing with his spit, and he watched the mess gather in his palm before washing it down the drain, he convinced himself.
This was so casual.
————
Saturday you went to the grocery store–AKA, hell day in hell land. You only needed a few ingredients, and figured getting out of the house for a while was better than calling Robin and asking her to pick them up for you.
However, life mocked you. After a heart-racing encounter with a truck narrowly missing you on the highway, you slowed to an agonizing stop every few feet from people blockading the aisles, taking their sweet time to decide what type of oil they wanted, when you could’ve snatched the one you needed, and moved on if they–would–just–move–a–freakin’–inch.
Least to say, by the time you made it to the baking aisle, you were mentally over it, and yet..
The cocoa powder was on the top shelf, taunting you by sight, just out of reach.
You huffed.
Rising onto your tiptoes, you employed your entire wingspan into clawing for it–tasting victory with your fingertips–but not enough to grasp the slippery plastic.
And of course no one else on the aisle was taller than you. They were hunched over walking canes, and clutching their layers of cardigans over their chests.
And of course, as you were stepping onto the bottom shelf for leverage, and becoming intimate with the bags of flour you inadvertently shoved your face into, your worst nightmare loomed behind you.
You knew it was Eddie before he spoke. You knew his gait, his smell, the sound of his laugh when he kept it in his chest. You knew his radiating warmth, his soft grunt, the way he took a sharper breath and held it for a beat before releasing it as a teasing remark. You knew the magnitude of his presence even when he was being demure. How respectful he was to invite himself into your personal space without crossing a line, squeezing his firm hand on the meat of your shoulder to let you know he was there, and heeding a modest gap between your bodies as his unbuttoned shirt brushed your sides.
He backed away half a step, and waited until you were turned around in the crowded space of him and the metal shelves to wave the tub above your head. The rings decorating his fingers glinted as he boasted, “Shucks, looks like it’s the last one too.”
You held your palm up and dropped your head to the side. “Are you gonna make me jump for it like Adrie, or are you gonna be a grown up and give it to me?”
“Give it to you? Maybe I need” –He read the label– “Cocoa powder.”
“You so do not.”
“You don’t know that,” he replied, lifting his chin at your bored expression. “If you want it..” He shifted his stance and sank into his hip, curling his bottom lip over his smirk as he peered down at you, prolonging your misery instead of just finishing his sentence. “..You can use the magic words.”
What an infuriating immovable object. Blocking everything in your view that wasn’t his red flannel thrown over a wrinkled white tee, and his rebellious hair eclipsing the fluorescent lights.
Just the worst person to rescue you from your predicament. Standing so close you could scrutinize the permanent five-o-clock shadow on his upper lip, and the wispy curls composing his sideburns.
So annoying how his hair reached the shadow of his clavicle, where a chain link necklace showed beneath his shirt, and the tendons in his neck stretched an alluring contour from the hollow of his throat to the underside of his square jaw.
His shoulders shook with a quelled snicker. “Come on,” he sang with an infuriating timbre, swaying the cocoa above you.
You met his steeped tea eyes, and insisted in a warm honey tone, “Please stop being a dickhead, and thank you for not being an asshole and handing over the cocoa.. Fucker.”
Eddie’s face cracked into the biggest grin. Beside you, a blushing grandmother shot you a scathing glare, and grabbed a bag of sugar from the shelf before tsking and walking off.
Bestowing you the tub in your hand, he wrapped his palm over top of it and didn’t let go as he bent to you. “Hey now,” he said in a lower register, voice cracking on the consonants from the remnants of his laugh, “no bad words in front of my kid. Or the elderly. Show some respect.”
You perked up. All transgressions in regards to baking ingredients were forgotten when you spotted his daughter sitting cross legged inside the shopping cart behind him. “Adrie!” You pushed Eddie out of the way, and wrapped her in a tender, heartwarming hug.
“Miss Mouse!” she cheered in equal enthusiasm, dropping the box of cereal she was reading aloud to lock her arms around your neck.
You giggled at the giddy feeling soaring in your chest, and encouraged her, “Yeah, I’m Miss Mouse.” The clunky braids Eddie put in her hair smashed against your cheek as you held each other tighter.
Taking inventory of the sparse groceries she was amongst, you spotted a pattern. “You like pasta, huh?” It was an easy guess considering there were three bags of noodles with two large jars of sauce standing out from the rice dinners and a few cans of soup. Practically a replica of the receipt you found in his pocket. But she corrected you.
“No. Daddy’s just bad at cooking.”
Your eyes bulged, and you pursed your lips to refrain from bursting out in impolite laughter. Standing up straight, you combed a few stray curls behind her ear, and whispered, “Geez, kids are ruthless.”
Eddie shifted his weight to his other foot, and gestured at the groceries with a pencil before striking out something on the short list he had written one on a pad of paper. “Eh, Wayne’s the chef of the family. She knows what she’s getting when it’s my turn to cook.”
You hummed at the new information, and went to pick your hand basket off the floor when something caught your eye–and it definitely wasn’t the leather loafers on the old man shuffling past you.
Eddie, obviously, wasn’t dressed in coveralls.
His black tennis shoes were nearly identical to the white ones he wore on Halloween, with the floppy tongues out against his light-wash blue jeans. (Very, very nice fitted jeans with holes in the knees, and a rip stretching wider across the curve of his thigh.) Dragging your gaze up, you clocked the interesting belt buckle he wore on your way to admire the soft outline of his stomach pressed against his shirt. He moved his flannel aside to stuff his shopping list in his pocket–struggling due to how tight his pants were–and incidentally showed off a smidgen of skin above the waistband of his plaid boxers.
Just a hint of skin marked with the bottom lines of a larger tattoo and you were salivating–
A loud intercom announcement sang a jingle about tortillas, and you were reminded of where you were, and where Eddie was, a few feet away from you, well aware of the places your gaze stalled before landing on his smirk.
He caught you checking him out.
Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Find everything you were looking for?”
“I, uh–” you stuttered two words out before your brain threatened you to shut the fuck up. As an alternative, you snapped into finger guns aimed in the opposite direction, and made up an excuse. “I forgot to get.. something.”
“Forgot what?”
You blinked. “Milk.”
“Milk, huh?”
“Yep.. Milk.” Sweating under the heat of his narrowed eyes, you made yourself scarce. “Welp. Hope to never see you outside of work again, because this was we-ird,” you enunciated in lilt as you strutted away. But just as you were about to disappear around the corner, you stopped, and said, “Adrie, however, I’d love to see you any day of the week.”
She turned in the shopping cart and waved. “Bye, Miss Mouse.” Eddie was too busy watching you make a fool of yourself to correct her, letting the nickname stick.
Rounding the end cap display of premature Christmas themed candies and bakeware, you held your gaze steadfast ahead as you passed by someone not-so-inconspicuously trying to blend in with the background, wearing a red managerial vest, and holding a clipboard over their mouth.
Robin lowered the employee break schedule, and whispered rather loudly, “He’s so in love with you.”
You groaned. “Can you not spy on us?”
She sweetened you up, “Seriously, he was totally checking you out when you bent over.”
You turned down an aisle and felt her hot on your heels. Yielding in front of the boxes of chamomile tea, you examined one, and asked with an air of disinterest as if you were inquiring about the weather, “Was he now?”
Screwing her face up, she nodded empathically, “Majorly.”
“Good, because I want to crawl in a hole and die.”
~~~
Six feet under seemed like a better fate than what you were dealt.
Though you gave it your best effort, meandering about until enough time had elapsed that you figured he’d left by now, you made your way to the front of the store, and stopped. Eddie had the end of his cart angled towards the registers. Adrie held a package of cookies out for him to approve of, and in a depressing moment of realization, you watched him revert to the person you met him as.
The playfulness was gone. His face was cast with the exhaustion of being around strangers for too long. His lips were bitten raw. His chest sank with a long exhale, and his stomach caved as he looked at his daughter asking for something the other parents around him could throw in their cart without a second thought, and he had to disappoint her.
He didn’t say ‘no’ exactly, but the nervousness of doing so was there. “They’re not on the list,” he begged her in a defeated whisper to understand and not make a scene. He couldn’t handle a scene.
Not yet five-years-old and she sensed his stress and put them back.
“Hey, cutie.” You didn’t know you spoke until Eddie jerked his head up, and you witnessed the change in his mood wash over him. Turned on a dime. He grinned at you in genuine relief, and in a bout of awkwardness, you smiled at Adrie in particular to imply your initial greeting was for her. Not that he wasn’t cute, too. “Fancy meeting you two here.”
He pushed his cart forward, taking the next spot in line, and peered into your hand basket, assessing the Reese’s Pieces, baking goods, tea, and distinct lack of one item. “Hmm, got lost on your way to the milk, huh? Or did you need someone to reach it for you?” He placed his gallon of milk on the conveyor belt first for emphasis. You rolled your eyes.
The two of you must’ve appeared cozier than you gave off, because the cashier motioned at you–specifically, he pointed from Eddie’s groceries to yours. “You two together?”
Eddie froze. Just a useless doe-eyed deer in headlights. You, on the other hand, swallowed your spit before you choked on it, and realized what he meant.
“No, no, separate,” you answered, taking a plastic divider from him and putting it after Eddie’s bag of red delicious apples and before Robin’s dad’s tea.
You stifled your giggle as your beloved coworker fumbled into action after the exchange dawned on him. Bouncing between bagging his groceries, finding the cereal box for Adrie so she could finish tracing the maze on the back, and wiggling his wallet out of his back pocket. The chain attached to it clinked as he rifled through the papers in the biggest slot. They didn’t fit quite right like proper money would. They didn’t look quite right, either. Printed in muted red, purple, green, and blue like Monopoly money. Big text on the front with a picture of the Liberty Bell. Large numbers in the corner with fine print beside it.
Food stamps.
They were food stamps, and it was the middle of the month, and he didn’t have many left.
He counted two of them out, and hesitated, choosing to add a few dollars to meet the total, and handed them over.
Eddie had no reason to feel embarrassed. This was his life. This was how he fed his daughter. But still, he snuck a glance at you, and you looked away so he didn’t think you were staring, even though you were. You were. Not from a place of judgment, but of natural curiosity. Unfortunately, as you directed your gaze elsewhere, you noticed other people around you weren’t as gracious. Eyeing Eddie with cruelty behind their study of the town freak coming inside their territory and depending on their honest wealth to pay for his food.
He’d only begun to stop chewing on his lips when he left the store. Exiting swiftly to begin the process of calming his anxiety as he loaded his car with groceries, knowing he had meals to eat, even if the price he paid stung his ego.
You went through the motions of bagging your groceries in your backpack, and listened to your gut.
Outside, you unchained your bike and put your bag in the wire basket attached to the handles, squinting in the noonday sun as you walked it to the back of the parking lot where Eddie was placing the plastic bags into the trunk of his car. No one parked on either side of him. Not a notable thing, but with how the store was packed, it stood out.
Eddie heard your wheel spokes click as you neared, and schooled the indications of worse emotions from his face to keep you from prying, but he frowned anyway when you passed him to talk to his daughter instead.
The rear door on the passenger’s side was propped open. You flapped your hand at her to get her attention, and she stretched her arm out as far as her car seat allowed in effort to link your fingers. “See you later, girlie,” you said, squeezing her hand in lieu of a proper hug. “Be good for your dad, alright?”
“I’m always good,” she responded, giving you an assured nod of angelic innocence. Eddie barked a laugh, and closed the trunk.
“You can’t swindle her,” he told Adrie. “She knows all about the fit you threw the other morning when I wouldn’t let you bring your stuffed animals to school.” She cut him a sassy glare at being called out.
“Don’t listen to him,” you consoled her. “You’re perfect.” She beamed at you, and you paralleled her delight as you let go of her to smack Eddie’s hand away from your ribs. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get going. Gotta get this milk in the fridge, y’know.”
You stole a coy look at him reveling in what you hoped wouldn’t become a running joke, and steered your bike away, saying another final goodbye to Adrie.
“Not gonna say goodbye to me?” he asked with an aching amount of pitifulness.
“Ch’yeah.” You swung your leg over the frame, put your feet to the pedals. Ensuring you were a decent distance apart, you called out, “You’re right! I should respect my elders.” You waved and shouted at him pointedly, “Farewell, Eddie!”
He fixed his lazy grin on his daughter, who was laughing like it was the funniest thing she’d ever witnessed, and told her with utmost fondness, “Saw that one coming from a mile away.”
————
Sunday morning, Adrie threw him for a loop.
“I want Miss Mouse to come to my play,” she said, spearing the scrambled eggs on her plate with the tines of her plastic Little Mermaid themed fork. “Can you invite her for me?”
Eddie went rigid. The triangle shaped extras from her pancakes being cut into stars flopped off his fork, paused mid-air on the way to his already stuffed mouth. He chewed slowly. Methodically. Swallowing the syrupy sweetness coating his tongue, biding his time as he hunched deeper over his plate, and stared her down while his uncle took special interest in her request.
Wayne wasn’t able to make it this year, and Adrie was quick to think of a suitable replacement.
With a voice scratchy from cigarettes, he directed his question at his nephew, “Miss Mouse?”
Eddie shut him down with a diplomatic answer without breaking eye contact with his daughter. “Adrie’s nickname for the receptionist at work.”
“Oh! The one who did the costume, and went trick-or-treating with you.”
He sounded much too happy, much too chipper for Eddie’s liking, and when he withdrew his gaze from Adrie to pin it on Wayne, the sharp rush of annoyance at the twinkle in his uncle’s eye manifested in a low, tempered correction for him to drop it. “My coworker from the auto shop, where I’m lucky to have the job that I do.”
Wayne wasn’t having it. He leaned in, and matched his intensity, loading his words with a much deeper meaning than the type of conversation they could have in front of Adrie. He spoke to him man-to-man. “The receptionist who is nice to you and Adrie, and, understandably, is being asked to go to a small event at her school.”
“I know what she’s asking,” Eddie replied from behind his hand. “Stop acting like you don’t.”
“Daddy, please,” Adrie begged, kicking his shin under the table. Eddie inhaled sharply and scooted away.
Wayne looked at him.
Adrie looked at him.
His rules, convictions, and morals of the workplace looked at him, rising as a tense pressure in his chest. Eddie sighed them out.
He was weak.
————
Sunday night, you and Robin were up to your usual bullshit.
Stress baking, and stress baking.
Her house was dimmed to only the small lights above the stove and sink, painting the room in an intimate mood of warmth bouncing off the smoky haze clouding the cramped space from the counter where you transferred a tray of hot cookies to a cooling rack, and she swayed behind you to the sultry Cher record spinning in the distance, seeming far away with her deep vocals melding into loops in your sleepy highs.
“Eddie’s beyond in love with you,” Robin said for the hundredth time, probably.
“He is not,” you argued for the hundredth time, probably. “Can you get me a bag for these?” The double chocolate cookies with Reese’s Pieces on top were ready to be put away to make room for the oatmeal ones.
“I just don’t get why you think he doesn’t like you–Oops.” While reaching for the ziploc bags from the top of the refrigerator, she accidentally knocked down a piece of artwork hanging on the door. She tossed you the box and picked the magnet up, along with the drawing of a mouse, owl, and bat off the floor, and put them back into place. “I mean, the way he looks at you every time you speak..” she trailed off in a wistful, airy breath. “So romantic.”
You answered her dreamy grin with a melancholic shrug of your own. “Yeah, but you don’t see all the other times he looks at me.”
Robin persevered. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.. He’s really–” You struggled for a word, interrupted by the sound of roiling bubbles behind you. “He’s really confusing.”
Exhaling at the ceiling, she asked, “Confusing how? Seems pretty clear to me.”
You groaned. Robin jabbed her elbow into your arm and offered you the bong, and when you showed her your greasy fingers, she turned it around and held it to your lips, lighting it for you until your lungs ached from a full inhale and you gave her a thumbs up to pull the stem.
Different place, same old bullshit. Smoking the last of your combined stash of weed you moved here with while bitching about life. It was hardly the first bowl of the night–or even the third–and the sentences you were trying to string together lulled into the drowsy dregs at the back of your mind.
You dropped your head back and sighed the smoke out. “He gets weird sometimes.”
“He’s always been weird.”
Shaking your head at her, you shifted the tone of the night to a somber one. Serious. Reflective.
Rolling the sugar cookie dough into balls, you recounted Eddie’s most recent rejection. “Last week I was telling him how we were hoping to move out soon, and he was giving off signals and asking questions like it was leading somewhere, but then I ran my stupid mouth, and it’s like he flipped a switch. He just stopped talking to me for the rest of the day.”
She put the bong down on the counter next to the tiny vase holding three flowers, and crossed her arms. “Ran your mouth how?”
You groaned louder into the hot wave of heat fanning your face from opening the oven door. “The dude will seriously flirt with me from clock in to clock out, but I–I dunno. I think I lay it on too thick, and it freaks him out. Like suddenly he realizes I’m serious, and he’s not into it. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened last week, anyway. We were going back and forth listing the pros of me living closer to work, and the cons of you eventually moving in with Vickie, and I kinda made a pass at him..”
“A pass how?”
You drew your brows in, and blinked your droopy eyes in a concentrated effort to recall the conversation. “..To be honest, I can’t remember. It was along the lines of me hinting that I’d want a second date with him. Which I only said because he seemed interested after I told him we were staying in Hawkins, but whatever. Guess I read it wrong.”
Perhaps too astute, your best friend in the entire world navigated your love life with undue keenness in spite of how blitzed you two were, breaking into dumb giggle fits at, quite literally, you dropping a spoon. “How obvious was this hint of yours?”
“Doesn’t matter.” You waved off the notion before you could grow attached to it. “We’re still coworkers, so I need to dial it back, regardless.”
“I think you should dial it up.”
“If I dialed it any more up, I’d get an HR complaint.”
“You don’t have HR,” she reminded you.
Squinting, you paused mixing the chocolate chips into the next batch of cookies. “I think I am HR?”
You handed her the pyrex bowl since it was her turn to roll them into cookies, and as she snacked on the raw dough, you filled the ziploc bag with more treats, stuffing it full.
Cher sang about starting over and finding love again.
The drawing on the fridge was in your periphery, as was the vase. Reminders of how kind, and gentle, and sweet Eddie and his daughter were. You were bound to misread his flirtations, but there was no harm in matching them, right? As long as you didn’t cross any lines, yeah? Just followed his lead and stopped when he made it clear it wasn’t welcomed.
Yeah.
Dialed back. You could do dialed back.
————
This was new.
It was early afternoon when you closed the manila folder of invoices, and directed your attention to Eddie, who, for the first time, imposed himself on your side of the desk.
He acted brave when he was timid. A blatant facade, still hesitant to commit to crossing the threshold past the invisible line where your desk ended and the hallway began. Made himself smaller by leaning on the wall behind you, giving you room to leave if you wanted. Not yet courageous enough to take his hand away from playing with the ends of his hair over his rosy cheeks. “So–um–Adrie’s class is putting together a Thanksgiving play, and she requested your attendance by name,” he finished with an adorable pout of your moniker, “Miss Mouse.”
You sat up straighter with lifted brows.
Thinking he was doing you a favor, he dropped the formalities, and gave you an out–a carefully worded out to avoid any cheeky response about your policy, “It’s gonna be a bunch of rambunctious toddlers singing off key, and not remembering their lines. It’s cool if you don’t want to go, I’ll tell her you were busy or somethin’. She’ll understand.”
You gripped the armrests in a burst of enthusiasm. “What? Of course I wanna go! When is it?”
Eddie was unconvinced. He crossed his arms, and bent at the waist to better assess if you knew what you were getting into. “Uh, Wednesday around lunch time–we can be out and back during our break if we hurry–but I’m serious about the little kids being obnoxious part. You don’t have to go.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” It was a rhetorical question he was going to answer, but you knocked the air from his lungs with one simple sentence. “I want to be there for her.”
Warmth bloomed. Spread throughout his body. The things he suppressed. Taking over all at once.
“You said Wednesday around lunch time?” you clarified. He nodded dumbly, a bit distracted. Your grin grew. “Both Mr. Moore and Carl are taking a half-day to start their Holiday early..” you began, and waited for the realization to cross his features.
“So we could just..”
“Lock up, and..”
“Take the rest of the day off too,” Eddie finished with an undertone of pride. He’d have to work extra hard to complete the cars he was working on before then, but the idea was genius. Playing hooky under his boss’ nose like he was a teenager again.
There was perhaps more he wanted to say, but the phone rang.
You answered and kept the exchange short, using your normal speaking voice. “Robin’s dad is being discharged from the hospital today,” you told him after hanging up. “I’m gonna clock out early to help prepare the house for when he gets here.”
Eddie watched you tidy up your desk in preparation to leave, and figured he should get back to work.
Picking up where he left off, he sank into the passenger’s seat of the Ford Taurus outside, and ran a mental checklist of things he still needed to do. Or he tried, rather. He was mostly sitting there daydreaming about potential scenarios, until he saw you come from the breakroom with your jacket in hand, and left out the front door, waving goodbye as you went.
Two dramatic minutes passed.
The quiet warehouse amplified the aural representation of his loneliness.
Eddie frowned. He wasn’t about to attribute the weather to your proximity, but he was certain the temperature in the garage dropped when you weren’t in the office. Or, maybe, he lost the pretty thing distracting him every few minutes, and he had the time to reflect on how badly he wanted a smoke break in the sun to warm him up.
He went inside to get his jacket from the breakroom, and instead of encountering a pack of Camels in his pocket, he grasped an oddly shaped object, and wrangled it out.
bobbie & i made too many
share with adrie & your uncle!
♡
An array of cookies surprised him. Several flavors, in fact. Some with fun toppings, some plain.
He smiled.
Well. Smiling would be putting it mildly.
Acting on impulse, he (accidentally) crushed the bag to his chest, and made a high-pitched noise of glee in his throat, absolutely smitten. Eddie hadn’t received a sweet gesture like this in years. If ever. Ironically blessed with the allure of being older in high school, he couldn’t distinguish the genuine crushes girls may have had on him from the fake love letters people stuffed in his locker to mess with him. But this? This was sincere. Even if the intention behind the cookies were to pawn them off because you made too many, you still thought of him and Adrie.
Too excited, he opened the bag and went to eat one, but a distinct odor itched his nose–one he was too intimate with to miss.
He held the baggie up and sniffed, then smelled the cookies. Inhaled the acrid scent clinging to the plastic, and nibbled on one of the innocuous looking treats.
He consulted the note again.
share with adrie
You didn’t just give him and his daughter edibles, did you?
————
Wednesday came unannounced. You crossed several days off the calendar in the garage, forgetting to do so with the influx of orders, phone calls, and customers getting in their last minute fixes before the Holiday break. You did what you could. Eddie did what he could. And now, you taped a handwritten sign to the front door and locked it until Monday morning.
Grabbing your backpack, you went to the women’s restroom, and Eddie went to the men’s to change out of your work clothes. After some arguing back and forth through the doors, you made him agree to open them on a countdown, and through your giggles, you shouted, “Three!”
You swung open your door and were instantly disappointed. “Why are you wearing that?”
Eddie made a similar sneer across from you in the hallway, and questioned your sanity, “What in the world are you wearing?”
“It’s adorable, and festive!” You defended yourself by pointing out the scarecrow patch on the chest pocket of your baggy overalls, and how your orange flannel matched the one he was wearing. “Do you not think so, you big gray cloud?”
“Yeah, super cute. You’ll blend right in with the toddlers,” he snarked with much less malice than his words implied, on account of his lopsided grin.
“Big talk coming from the guy dressed like a moody teen.” Sinfully tight black jeans, black boots, black belt sporting a handcuff buckle, black leather jacket, black tee with a graphic of a rattlesnake wrapped around a skull.
It was his first date outfit again. How sweet.
And you didn’t need to be checking out his ass to see the bandana hanging out of his back pocket as he escorted you to his car, but you weren’t complaining about the opportunity. “You should worry about scaring the children with how angry you look.”
He held the employee door open for you, and locked it–then almost tripped on his way to unlock the car door, and hold it open for you too. “Angry?” He glanced from your outfit to his. “Good thing I’m with you, then. We’ll balance each other out, Sunshine.”
“An unlikely pair,” you agreed in good faith. Once he shut your door, and was in the process of walking around to his side, you gawked at the nickname. “Sunshine?”
You snapped your mouth shut as he fell into the driver’s seat, and started the car.
“So,” you drew out to break the silence after he didn’t have the courtesy of turning on the radio to ease the tension of being stuck in a small enclosure together, “red, huh?” The entire interior–every last detail–was custom made in the same bright crimson, from the air vents to the tiniest knobs.
The engine revved with his heavy stamp on the gas. Your stomach flipped. His grin went wicked.
“There weren’t many made in this color,” he said, thrilled to see your fingernails dig into your palms as he peeled out onto the street, and the garage became a miniature in his rearview mirror at a frightening speed, considering you were coming up on an intersection. “I’m lucky I found her used, and she didn’t need much work.”
Petrified as you might be by his reckless driving, you still had it within you to make a sound of disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that refers to their car as a woman.”
“What?” he scoffed. He relaxed one of his hands on his thigh as he lounged back with his head cocked, brazen with his newfound vanity. An arrogant curve to his lips as he interpreted your lingering gaze on his fingers splayed across his leg as being impressed by him, his car, his attitude. The whole package. “You don’t gender your bike?”
Without giving it much consideration, you supposed, “I think my bike is a he.”
“Ha! You ride a man to work every day,” he mumbled after the abrupt laugh.
His smile vanished.
The fact he didn’t mean to say that out loud became very apparent.
The blood drained from his face as quickly as it returned. Splotches of blushy red worked its way up his throat, turning his ears the same color as his beloved car’s interior. Same shade as the traffic light up ahead. Same bawdy hue typically associated with the lustful act his brain suggested before his mouth caught up.
Eddie sat at attention. Swallowed against his pulse as he stepped on the clutch and downshifted gears. The leather strapped steering wheel creaked under his dual vice grip. His chest deflated with a heavy breath, and blinking rapidly at the road, his pounding heart trembled his voice, “Please forget I said that.”
Curled into a ball facing the window–stomach clenched painfully tight from uncontrollable laughter–you muffled yourself with your flannel’s collar, “Never!”
~~~
The rest of the car ride was boring in comparison to the start, but you made it to Adrie’s preschool with only a few more unintentional eruptions of giggles when you remembered Eddie’s horrified face, while he drove in abject misery.
He parked the car, and got out quickly.
“How precious,” you said. The squat brick building had aged pine needles clinging to its shingled roof, and Thanksgiving themed art hanging in its windows.
Opening the entrance door brought the waft of buttery biscuits and grape jelly. Eddie guided you with purpose through the makeshift cafeteria, made snug with four child-sized picnic tables in the middle, and fingerpainted art adorning the navy blue walls. His keyring dangled from his belt, drumming against his jeans as he pivoted into a hallway illuminated by the overcast day outside. Gentle music came from the empty nursery to the left, and to the right was a heavy wooden door that did little to quiet the ruckus beyond it.
He paused. The rectangle window above the door knob streaked the side of his face with warm light from within, countering the nervous energy in his eyes as he took a long moment to look at you. You waited for him to speak, but he decided against it.
“I’m excited,” you offered, just above a whisper, wanting to say anything to help ease the eerie vagueness in his expression.
A muscle in his cheek twitched like he was going to smile, but it came across rather apprehensive.
He turned the knob. You walked inside first. Both of you stood still.
The room was as inviting as it was overwhelming. Bright, decorated, and packed with people. People who were dressed in business casual, and broken off into pairs of two. People who knelt to speak on level with someone who displayed a combination of their distinct features. People who mingled with other adults after the little ones were ushered to the front of the room by the teachers. People who gushed over a topic with their heads together, beaming at a miniature version of themselves dressed in a costume. People who contributed in a joint effort to create life, and the reason they were here today.
Parents.
They were parents.
This was an event for parents.
This was a play for parents to attend to see their child perform, and partake in themed crafts with the implication of going home afterwards to spend the Holidays together.
Eddie watched you realize this.
An older woman gravitated towards you two.
This was very, intensely, happening right now, and you had to navigate the whiplash to the best of your improv abilities.
“Good to see you,” she greeted Eddie first, and he gave a pleasant reply, but she didn’t hear it. Her attention was on you, eyes magnified by her thick glasses, and smiling wider than before. “You brought someone,” she all but gasped, speaking to him, though she was clasping your hand. “I’m Mrs. Teresa. And you are?”
Eddie had a response prepared.
“I’m Adrie’s friend!” you blurted.
He pressed his mouth shut and gave you a sideways glance.
“And, uh,” you continued to dig your grave, “and I work with Eddie. I met Adrie one day, and we really hit it off, haha. Next thing I know I’m trick-or-treating with her, and uh.. now I’m here!” When her expression of anticipation did not wane, you followed up your ramble with your name, and she nodded appreciatively, patting the back of your hand.
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” she said. “We’re starting soon if you’d like to sit.”
She moved on to a non-platonic couple, and collected their kid to the front where a backdrop of an autumnal forest jostled due to the jittery group of children hiding behind it–most notably, the little girl at the edge who peeped her head out, and jumped up and down.
You both waved at Adrie.
Eddie’s hand landed on your mid-back, and he directed you with an appropriate amount of pressure towards the last row of chairs, choosing two in the middle.
“Smooth,” he commented.
“Shut it.” Sneaking an eyeful of the broad man next to you wearing a blazer under his boiled wool overcoat, you scooted your chair closer to Eddie’s. He must’ve had a similar train of thought, because he did the same to get away from the woman next to him, unwittingly making you two cozier than you were at the movies.
Shoulder to shoulder, he kept his hands in his pockets, and your elbow slotted into the crook his arm created when he slouched towards you.
“Are we not friends?” he asked in reference to your introduction.
You assured him, “The best of reluctant friends.”
The impish smile he shared with you dwindled with each set of hypercritical eyes getting their gawk in before one of the teachers turned off the lights.
The room was overcome with darkness. Blackout curtains suppressed daylight from coming through–for naptime, you assumed–and as children do, they squealed. The teachers soothed them with an amused shush, and turned on two lamps, pointing them like spotlights at the backdrop. Your eyes refused to adjust past the faint outline of your leg pressed flush against Eddie’s, (from hip to calf as a result from seeking support in each other,) but that was beside the point. The show began.
Mrs. Teresa sat off to the side and opened a comically large book. She read the first passage aloud with the pages facing the parents, and out came the kids dressed as pilgrims, brandishing their buckle shoes and hats. In another breath, the ones wearing brown shirts and feathers arrived, and you grimaced at the watered down kid-friendly rewrite of history being acted out, interspersed with songs about sharing.
At least Adrie was dancing around as a carrot with other vegetable-clad children, spelling out what part of the cornucopia they were.
Truly, it could’ve been worse.
But it was during a chorus about friendship sung at the top of their lungs, you unbit your tongue, and leaned into Eddie. “So when are they gonna enslave the Natives and steal their land?”
“Pft!”
Several pairs of shoulders in front of you turned to glare at what they assumed was Eddie snickering at their children’s bad singing before sitting forward, surely perturbed.
He knocked the side of his fist on the top of your thigh, and went to scold you.
But the room was dark.
So dark.
And he misjudged how close you sat.
The cold tip of his nose made contact with the cusp of your cheekbone. His stuttered breath caught your jaw. Your arm slipped further into the curve of his body.
He could’ve realized his mistake. He could’ve stopped there. He could’ve apologized for overstepping the coworker code of conduct. He could’ve reminded himself you’d be gone by the end of the summer. He could’ve dialed it back. He could’ve kept it casual. He could’ve backed off, and dropped the silly reprimand altogether. He could’ve done so many things. But he didn’t. He accepted the risk, and committed to it.
He dipped his head until his plump lips discovered the shell of your ear. Every word vibrated on your skin, rippling goosebumps in the wake of his groaned warning, “You’re gonna get me in trouble.” Trembly, raspy from keeping his voice low. Hardly hitting the hard consonants with his tongue before he was withdrawing.
The humidity from his exhale remained. It cooled on your skin. In the weak lamplight, you shifted your wide eyes to his, and the knowledge of what transpired reflected in his keen gaze gauging the consequences of his actions.
Stuck in a daze of buzzing endorphins, you had no idea how to interpret what the hell just happened.
Careful, he didn’t dare express an emotion that would give his true self away.
Together, you both redirected the focus to his daughter.
It took another few seconds for either of you to discern the back of his hand resting on your thigh. He took it away, and crossed his legs, establishing some much needed space between you.
~~~
The play ended, and the lights were flipped on. Everyone winced. There was an announcement from one of the teachers about a snack and crafts for the parents who were staying; and without an auto shop to attend to, you and Eddie were able to dote over Adrie instead of being forced back into the intimacy of his car.
He stood up and said he’d be right back. Lucky for Adrie, she bolted for you first, and you wasted no time in scooping her up into a crushing hug, grateful for the distraction.
Overflowing with pride, you channel all your love into lauding Adrie in mushy compliments, rubbing your cheek against hers. “Oh my gosh, you did so good! You were the best carrot I’ve ever seen. I’m downright impressed by your performance, remembering all those lines.” Pulling away, you waggled your eyebrows. “You wanna grow up to be an actor? Have people flock to see you on stage?” Her face brightened in renewed excitement.
“On a stage like Da��?”
Eddie intervened out of nowhere, “You two ladies gonna join me?” You startled an imperceivable amount from his sudden appearance–truly, you didn’t even jump–but it was enough to earn his toothy grin. “I reserved two seats at the Queen’s table for the princess and her esteemed guest for the evening.” He bowed with a swept out arm, showing you the way through the sea of adults.
Queen’s table was certainly a way to sell it.
It was a tiny, tiny thing. There were several of them at the back of the room, seating four children at most–or two adults and a four-year-old–and Adrie chose a blue one with a cartoon turkey decoration in the middle.
Half an ass cheek fit in the chair, the tabletop was at your shins, and your knees were tucked to your chest. You met Eddie’s gaze above Adrie’s head, and rubbed her back while he stroked her hair, running his fingers through the tangles.
You assumed, for the most part, he wanted to ignore what happened earlier as if it never happened, and you followed his lead.
Adrie broke you from your musing. There was commotion surrounding the teachers, and she gasped, flapping her hands when she saw what they were carrying.
A palm-sized pumpkin pie was set before her, along with three spoons.
“I made this fresh this morning,” she informed you as if she were running a bakery. And as head baker, she was in charge of portion sizes. She took one spoon and scooped out a modest amount of pumpkin filling, and not a crumb of graham crust more. That one was for Eddie.
For you? She split the rest of the pie, and gave you your half balanced on your spoon, and dug into her half without giving her dad a second glance.
“Hey,” he whined. “Not fair. I’m the one who raised you. Why does she get more?”
Speaking down to him like it was the most obvious thing ever, she rolled her eyes, and said, “Because girls are better, Daddy.”
You didn’t hide your snort.
“Yeah, Eddie.” You taunted him by waving the spoon before sticking the pie chunk in your mouth. “G–irls sh’are better.”
Chewing on his measly portion, he regarded his princess and her esteemed guest with a similar amount of weakness, and the tension at the corners of his eyes softened. He submitted. “Yeah. Girls are better.”
~~~
After the snack was a craft. In this case, hand turkeys. Paper, crayons, markers, and colored pencils were passed out amongst the tables, and a teacher gave instructions to the kiddos.
You grabbed the cartoon turkey decoration in the middle of the table for reference, and began your masterpiece. Adrie kept it classic, tracing her hand. Eddie did.. whatever he was doing, hunched over to hide his paper from you two for the past ten minutes.
“I made a princess turkey,” Adrie announced. Indeed, her turkey was decked out with a flowy dress and pink pointy hennin. In the background was a cobblestone castle.
You showed her your realistic turkey, hoping to impress her, but she pulled a face.
“Ew, he’s ugly.”
Frowning at your drawing, you compared him to the one on the table centerpiece, and felt bad for all the less-than-beautiful turkeys around the world. “That’s just the way he looks..”
Eddie, happy as a clam, slammed his pencil down and flaunted his drawing. “I turned mine into a dragon.”
Converging with Adrie, she whispered in your ear, and as a unit, you judged his hand turkey, weighing the artistic ability versus the outlandish deviation from the original assignment.
After a heated debate, you cleared your throat for his attention.
You both applauded his efforts with a humbling clap.
~~~
It wasn’t long before Adrie grew bored with coloring, and left to play with her friends. They gathered around a chest by the teacher’s desk, and brought out non-Thankgivingsy costumes. She played dress up in a fairy-unicorn combo, and another girl hopped around in a mermaid outfit, complete with a shimmery tail.
Eddie switched seats, flopping into the middle chair with a grunt. He moved Adrie’s drawing aside and set up shop. Made himself right at home. Really just invaded your area like he owned the place.
“Uhh–” You gaped. “Can you kindly remove your knee from my vicinity? You’re blocking both my drawing and the colored pencils.”
He imposed himself more. Nudging his feet wider for the sole reason of bothering you until you were forced to curl in on yourself in an uncomfortable hunch. Actively ignoring your plea by sketching the finishing touches on his dragon.
Resigning your sneer at the back of his head, you agreed, “All right.” If he wanted to play that game, you would too. You snatched the orange pencil you needed for your turkey’s feathers, and shoved the markers to the far side of the table, outside his reach.
Giving him no time to prepare a counterattack, you looped your arm around his leg to his shin, and hugged his thigh to your chest with your flexed bicep, locking his knee in a sleeper hold any wrestler would be proud of, preventing him from getting up.
Yes, things scattered as you did this. Yes, people rubbernecked. No, you didn’t care, and Eddie didn’t, either.
Well, he cared a little, even if the grumpy persona he donned cracked with each failed frown.
His mouth curled into a grin despite his resistance. “I can’t have the red marker?” The syllables were caught amongst his hissy laugh at your ridiculousness–tip of his tongue to his teeth, voice rich with affection, and eyes squinted from pure adoration–a short question articulated through his mirth, with his chest braced against your arm after accepting the position of your entwined bodies, and another beg for you to understand on his lips. “How am I supposed to outline the fire he’s breathing, huh?”
He furrowed his brows to appear angry, but it was futile. His smile was here to stay. And what a treat it was to get lost in the moment.
At any point he could’ve easily broken from your hold. Hell, you hardly had his leg secured in your embrace after he shook his hair out of his face, and your muscles were rendered to warm jelly. But still, he played along.
You hunkered down and returned to your drawing with his jeans rubbing on the underside of your chin. “I once heard of these magic words you could use to get what you want.. if you ask nicely.” He hummed a disgruntled noise to show his displeasure. Poor him, being beaten at this own game, and served with a dose of his own medicine.
Incredulous, he huffed, “Magic words?” But there was something suspicious about his tone..
Something just not quite right, indeed..
Without looking, you snatched his hand seconds before his mischievous fingers wiggled their way to your ribs. You interlaced an assortment of index, middle, and thumbs in a twist of power, and dragged your gaze away from your artwork to mock him. “So predictable, Eddie.”
“Am I?”
An aware glimmer from how unpredictable he was half an hour ago presented itself as a gorgeous flash of slyness across his eyes, crinkling his crow’s feet at the corners–
The metal feet of Eddie’s abandoned chair scraped along the floor.
You disengaged from each other, cheeks burning with fresh shame.
Mrs. Teresa had a yellow paper folder tucked under her arm. This was not favorable for Adrie on account of her sharp heel-turn when she saw her teacher sit at the table with her preschool assessment opened for her dad to pour over.
You couldn’t read anything from your angle, but it appeared to be a collection of Adrie’s assignments and a progress report with many notes written in the margins.
Pushing her glasses up her nose, Mrs. Teresa licked her fingertips, and flipped through the pages, updating him since the last time they did this.
The conversation was about the places Adrie excelled, and where she could improve. In regards to education, she was surpassing where she should be, and she was a quick learner. Kindergarten would be no trouble for her. It was sharing, and social interactions she was struggling with, despite her ability to make friends.
Mrs. Teresa guided Eddie towards a more serious discussion about these concerns by asking him if he told her ‘no’ frequently, and how she reacted when he did. You’d never seen him so nervous. Fidgeting, bouncing, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. Stuttering through a weak admission that he has trouble disappointing her.
He was uncomfortable, and you did your due diligence to tune them out. But it was no use.
Surveying the room, your mind was consumed by Eddie once more. For a different reason, and inciting a different emotion.
Parents at the other tables whispered observations about his mannerisms into their partner’s ear. About his disheveledness. His weirdness. His clothes. His nonconformity. His last name. The whole package.
He was the father to the sweet little girl they invited to birthday parties, but never stayed after dropping her off with a gift? This was the man who never spoke. Never lingered long enough to put the rumors at rest. Never denied them either, so, logically, the gossip about him must be true.
“As you know, Adrie will throw tantrums from time to time when you drop her off,” Mrs. Teresa eased him into the topic. “When she cries, she asks for you, and it’s difficult to calm her down. This is abnormal for how long she’s been enrolled here. Have you been working on those techniques I taught you to help steer her towards more independence?” Her inquiry was kind, and sympathetic. It was valid, but his first instinct was to defend himself.
“I-I, well.” He took a shaky breath, and leaned towards her with his elbow on his thigh to cup his hand around his mouth, and sliding it to wring the back of his neck. “She’s–It’s just, she’s all I have, a-a-and–”
Mrs. Teresa rubbed his shoulder.
Though you were missing context for what Adrie’s teacher was trying to correct him from doing, you wanted to show your support. Lessen his stress. Afterall, the integrity of dialed back crumbled when his lips grazed your ear, and following his lead culminated in you being invited into his daughter’s world, so what’s the worst that could happen if you took a risk and comforted him? ..Besides discovering if David’s Auto Repair had an HR department.
Eddie’s pitch fluctuated as he bounced his leg harder, “When I’m home, I just want to make her happy–and, she’s, she’s–” You placed your hand on his knee, and stroked your thumb over the skin peeking out from the rips in his jeans. His inhale hitched at the sensation.
Without otherwise addressing what you did, he covered your hand with his own, crooked his cold fingertips into the spaces between yours, and parsed his thoughts. Slowed his mind. Ceased his nervous habit of bouncing his leg. Appreciated the gesture, even as the tacky silver spider ring on his pinky taunted you.
“I’ve been better about telling her ‘no’ lately,” he said more clearly. “The tantrums are happening less, and they don’t last as long when she sees I’m not budging. But the other stuff.. I don’t know.”
“Do you still carry her?” she asked, and he avoided eye contact.
“Yeah.”
“She’s almost five. She’s not a baby anymore, dear. It’s best to wean her now before it becomes a bigger problem.”
“I know.”
Mrs. Teresa gave him a motherly pat on his back, and smiled at you–his coworker–and rearranged Adrie’s folder to the bottom of the stack she had, and moved on to another table.
For a while, Eddie twisted the hair at his nape around his finger. Eyes fixated on the crayon box. You waited for him to come around, and when he did, he smiled and squeezed your hand before sliding his clammy palms to his thigh, allowing you to let go of his knee.
His chest rumbled with a soft laugh. “Sorry, was I shaking the table?”
Yes? No? Maybe? You weren’t paying attention to notice. “Yeah, like an earthquake,” you joked.
“My bad,” he said with not a hint of remorse displayed in his delighted expression.
On cue, serving as the perfect interruption to the prolonged stare you gave each other, another autumnal craft was being distributed amongst the parents remaining, and Adrie set her chin on top of where your and her dad’s shoulders touched.
Mrs. Teresa’s advice regarding his codependency went ignored for another day.
Eddie shut his eyes and pressed his temple to Adrie’s, humming contently to himself, cherishing the affection he ached for.
Adrie, on the other hand, gasped when she spied what was on the table, and rang his ears, “Glitter!”
~~~
Thank God Eddie was a safer driver with Adrie in the car; your stomach couldn’t handle another queasy acceleration through a yellow light while you made a concentrated effort to get flakes of gold glitter out of your eyebrows, having no recollection of how they got there.
In her car seat behind you, Adrie regaled you with the plot points of the latest episode of My Little Pony Tales, chirping away happily about the interpersonal relationships between the cartoon horses until Eddie pulled into the alleyway behind the auto shop, and you turned around to say your goodbyes, thanking her for inviting you.
You opened the car door and heard Eddie do the same. You were about to ask him why he was getting out too, when he went up to the employee door and unlocked it for you.
Right, you left your keys in your backpack.
Rationally you knew he wasn’t a mind reader, but you were still sheepish when getting your bike, wheeling it out to stand across from him in what was a dreadful amount of silence.
“So, uh,” he faltered in the same rush of feelings crashing like a wave over the both of you. “Thank you for coming today. I know Adrie appreciated having you there.” He went shy, scratching the back of his head before putting his hands in his pockets. “Sorry about the mess.”
You shrugged at the mention of glue on your sleeve. “It’s whatever. I’m just glad I got to watch her perform.” Dumbass move, bringing up the play when what happened during it influenced every bit of this awkward interaction. You hurried to move past it, “Plus, the pumpkin pie was nice.” And what happened afterwards when we held hands–twice–was nicer.
Jesus Christ.
Reeling in the desire to bolt, you gambled on one last question before going home to scream into your pillow. “Uhm–Can I ask you something?”
“I guess,” he answered with a wary tone.
“Why do people look at you weird?” You motioned at his clothes. “Besides the obvious.”
The deep creases between his brows from years of scrunching his face in a sour expression became more prominent. “There’s a lot of rumors out there about me.. Some are true, some aren’t.”
“Do you want to tell me which ones are true?”
Inside the car, Adrie swayed in her seat, belting a tune neither of you could hear.
“I will some other time, okay?” He flicked his gaze to you, saw the understated kindness of your soft smile, and diverted his attention to the rock he was grinding under his shoe; bashful despite the burden of his reputation affecting the instant sag in his posture. “I will,” he promised again, giving you a curt nod.
You walked your bike up beside him, and bumped his elbow. “Hey, don’t look so glum,” you insisted. “Whatever it is, I’ll still go with you to parent-teacher conferences as Adrie’s best friend so you don’t look so painfully single.”
You threw your head back in a witchy cackle as you hopped on your bike and rode away.
And it was when you were in the familiar territory of woods flocking either side of the dirt road leading to Robin’s house that you gave into the urge, and released an embarrassed, guttural, annoyed groan of one word, scaring the blackbirds in the nearby trees, “Why?”
Single, single, single. Good God, could you be more obvious?
Dialed back was a lost cause from the start.
“Well, whatever happens, happens, I guess.” And you finished it with, “Idiot.”
————
Eddie had been sitting in his car for all of two seconds when he patted the side of his seat for the back recliner, and cranked it until he was almost laid flat.
Driving his hands from his nape and upward, he gathered his hair between his fingers and covered his face, mashing the curly ends over his eyes screwed shut from red-hot shame.
He inhaled deeply, and reprimanded his dumbassery in the loudest groan. “That was so–incredibly–not casual.”
“What’s the matter, Daddy?” Adrie asked, sounding like a therapist as she pinched her sticky fingers together to shift the gold glitter from one to the other.
Composing himself, he finished dragging his palms down his cheeks, and combed away the strands stuck on his eyelashes. He blinked. “It’s nothing.” Nothing at all. He definitely wasn’t thinking of how fucked he was, believing he could handle today without taking things too far.
But it wasn’t how he almost kissed your cheek that bothered him the most, nor the multiple scenarios he supplied in effort to hold your hand, or touch you in general.
No. It was worse.
Staring unfocused at the ceiling, his lips parted with a realization.
His whisper was for himself, and his heart only. “I didn’t even care that people were staring at me today..” The mercy of your presence brought a line of water to his eyes. Not enough to flow over, but enough for him to notice his loneliness.
“Can you invite Miss Mouse to Thanksgiving?”
“No, she has her own Thanksgiving to attend,” he told her, and held his hand out, making a grabby motion at her. She understood and put her shoe in his palm so he could squeeze her ankle. Any affection. Any at all. Giving or receiving.
Knowing the answer, he asked, “You really like her, huh?”
“She’s my favorite.”
“Yeah, she’s my favorite too,” he said, in whatever capacity she meant, he meant it as well. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t, but he did.
Massaging his thumb and forefinger into circles on his forehead, he meditated on the right thing to do. Meaning, he thought about the hundreds of reasons he should put an end to this, to discourage Adrie’s relationship with you, and to resist the temptation of forming his own; and instead he latched onto the idea of him not appearing single for a little longer than his logical brain was comfortable with.
Coworker, risk, flighty personality, yada, yada..
He snorted. “Yeah, I should probably stop this.”
Adrie rolled her leg in his grasp to get him to let go. “Can we stop at McDonald’s first?”
“Wha–?” After a moment of confusion, he sighed. “Give me a break, kid.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson smut#mechanic!eddie#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#the yes policy
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Hint
Warnings: unprotected car creampie, oral, face fucking, hate fucking with JJ, Kook mean girl
I roll my eyes as I cross the parking lot to my Mercedes. This Pogue could not take a fucking hint. His constant flirting was on my last nerve. Sure he was cute but he was a Pogue. I had guys lining up to fuck me. I could have any guy I wanted so why waste time on this loser?
“Stop following me.” I snap, hitting the unlock button on my key fob. Why did I park at the back of the damn parking lot?
“You’ve been drinking. At least let me drive you home. Or my home.” The smile in his voice is clear and I shake my head just as I stumble in my heels over another fucking piece of gravel.
“Fuck.” I stop, reaching down to kick off these monstrosities when he’s suddenly crouching in front of me, crowding my space as he lifts my foot and starts to unfasten the straps.
“Are you always this annoying?” I grumble, using one hand on his shoulder to balance myself. The hand on my ankle is hot against my skin as he finally works the strap free and gently sits my foot down.
“Usually.” He peeks up at my under his messy blonde hair, flashing a panty dropping smile as he switches to the other foot.
“At least you’re honest.”
“Not used to that?”
“You don’t know me at all so don’t assume anything.” God he gets under my skin so badly but he doesn’t seem phased as he chuckles before raising to his full height, towering over me and dangerously close.
“I know enough.” His voice is lower, seductive even as his playful blue eyes rake down my body and back up.
“You know what’s on the outside. You don’t know what’s on the inside.” I blurt in frustration, shoving his chest but he doesn’t even budge. His lips curl into a taunting smirk.
“I want to be inside you. Does that count?” My jaw drops in surprise. This Pogue was so bold. I scoff, attempting to shove past him but pain shoots up through my feet from the gravel. It’s so sudden that I barely comprehend him scooping me in his arms until we’re moving towards my car again.
“I didn’t need your help.” I grumble, my heels dangling from one hand as I wrap the other around his neck.
“A simple thank you would suffice.”
“Oh so you’re not going to use this as a way to gain a sexual favor?” I narrowed my eyes at him as a bright smile formed across his face, his boots crunching along the gravel.
“I won’t say no to a blow job.”
“I can’t stand you.”
“You can sit on my face if you don’t feel like standing.” A laugh burst from me and I quickly looked away, his smile practically blinding as we came up on my car.
“You can put me down now.” I muttered awkwardly as he pulled the drivers door open.
“Eager to get home?” He lowered me so that my toes rested on his boots, keeping me from hurting my feet. The move felt intimate with how tightly our bodies were pressed together and I struggled to maintain eye contact.
“Why do you care? This is never going to happen.” I snap, his eyes widening for a moment before he schools his features. Anger I could deal with. Anything soft was off the table.
“I’m not going to sleep with you. Not just because you’re a filthy Pogue but because you’re probably some vanilla pretty boy and that’s not my thing. You probably like sweet words and taking your time but I like to be fucked. So take the hint.” My heart races with my outburst, my cheeks red with anger but I can’t help the sudden panic from the look in his eyes. He looked pissed but also wanted to eat me alive. Like he wanted to give me exactly what I said I wanted.
“Take the hint, huh?” His voice is low in warning, raising the hair on my neck like I’m being stalked by a predator. Suddenly he jerks open my passenger door and shoves me in the back seat by the back of my neck.
“What the—.” The door shuts and he’s manhandling me onto my knees, yanking my dress up to bare myself to him.
“You want to be fucked? I’ll show you how we Pogues like to fuck.” I nearly moan at his words, my body already on board with whatever he has planned. His fingers cup my sex, teasing my folds over my thong before yanking it down my thighs.
“Don’t you dare.” I gasp, still hanging on to the need for this to be all his idea. He slaps my pussy, making me squeal in pain and surprise.
“Open up for me, princess.” He slaps my thighs wider apart, the flesh of his cock suddenly between my thighs and making my eyes bug out. He was fucking huge.
“So goddamn wet for a Kook Princess.” JJ taunts, rubbing his cock through my slit. Every pass over my clit made me shudder, begging to be filled. I open my mouth to do just that when he shoves his way inside, making me moan loudly as my head drops down on the leather seats.
“Shit. You better be quiet or one of your friends will find you getting fucked by a filthy Pogue.” JJ’s words are strained as his fingers bite into my hips and he starts to move. I can’t control the whimpers and mewls that leave me. He delivers on his promise, fucking me hard and fast. I don’t even have to demand more because he keeps up with everything my body wants without instruction.
“So hot and tight.” JJ groans, yanking me back into every hard thrust of his hips as the car rocks. His cock was so hard and deep. I could barely think or breathe until I hear a giggle in the distance. I try to jerk away but he shoves me back down, holding me in place. His pace lessens so the car doesn’t rock but he doesn’t stop fucking me as he looks around.
“Grab the door.”
“Who— is it? We have to stop.” My words come out on a whimper, my body wound so tight as I do as he says.
“Guess you’re not the only one getting fucked by a Pogue tonight.” JJ chuckles darkly, shoving me flat onto the seat and coming down on top of me. My hair is twisted in his fist as his lips find my neck. I try to listen to determine if I know the identity of the other couple but I can’t hear over the sound of JJ panting in my ear and his pelvis slamming against my ass.
“Here?” A girl hisses too close to my car for liking and I instantly recognize the voice as my two-faced Pogue hating best friend.
“Fuck, I love having you under me. Not so mouthy now, are ya?”
I hear a thump and JJ chuckles in my ear, rolling his hips so he hits that sweet spot deep inside me. I bite back a mewl, turning my head and slamming my mouth to his without even thinking. If I thought fucking him was insane then kissing was even worse. His tongue demands entrance into my mouth and I can’t stop the orgasm that barrels forward. His hand is over my mouth in the next moment, silencing me as he fucks me into the seat until I’m trembling for relief.
“What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to be fucked?” I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him as I reach back to dig my nails into his thigh, with shorts still around his legs.
“Who is she fucking?” I demand in a whisper, shaking his hand off my mouth.
“Doesn’t matter.”
A cry of pleasure echos outside the car and JJ’s pace picks up. I can tell by his breathing that he’s close. He’s already lasted a lot longer than I expected.
“J—.” His nickname is a plea on my lips, the sensitivity being too much. The leather against my nipples. His weight on top of mine. His husky breathing in my ear.
“I like the thought of you driving home with me inside you. Then every time you drive this car you’ll be reminded of this. How your mouth begged for relief but your body demanded more. I can feel how close you are.” His vulgar words had my inner walls clenching, my eyes squeezing shut as pleasure pulsed through me. My hips lift on their own, aching for him to reach deeper.
“I didn’t say you could cum inside me.” I growl, fighting off the orgasm that threatens to rip through me and give us away. JJ’s hand dips between my thighs to press on my clit and a choked sound leaves me as my body detonates.
“I didn’t ask.” He whispers as I cum hard, my body jerking beneath his as I bite my own arm to keep from screaming my release. A deep, sexy moan echos in my ear as he finishes inside me, fucking me slow and deep until we’re both spent and fighting to catch our breath. The windows have fogged and I can feel his sweat on my back. Minutes pass and I don’t hear the couple outside anymore so I motion for him to let me up.
“This isn’t ever happening again.” I declare, looking along the floorboard for my panties. I don’t find them and I level him with a glare as he relaxes back against the seat, his legs spread and cock still hard. I fight hard not to stare at the cum stains along his shaft.
“If you say so.” His eyes are dark as he watches me, a sexy smirk on his lips. Like someone who was awfully proud of their accomplishments. The after effects of bliss make it hard to cling to my anger, especially with him looking at me the way he is.
“Clean up your mess and I’ll go.”
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
“I heard you. I was just giving you a chance to rethink what you just said.”
A beat of tense silence stretches between us, our eyes never wavering from each others even as his cum drips out of me and onto the leather seats.
“Here, I’ll show you.” JJ lunges, wrapping his hand in my hair and yanking me over his lap. His free hand holds his hard cock firmly as he presses my head down until the smooth tip meets my lips. I grit my teeth, refusing to open but the hand in my hair tightens painfully, nearly ripping the strands out so I reluctantly open, letting him hit the back of my throat. I gag loudly, attempting to pull back but he holds me firmly, a hand sliding between my legs to stroke my slick slit. I want to shake my head or tell him I can’t take anymore but he refuses to let me up as he fucks my throat.
“More tongue, less teeth. Relax your throat.” I’m tempted to bite down, wishing I could tell him I know how to give a damn blow job. It wouldn’t be so bad if he’d stop treating me like I don’t need to breathe. But goddamn the pulsing between my legs is almost agonizing. I feel on fire.
I move my tongue so it’s dragging up and down his shaft and I feel his body tighten as he hisses through his teeth.
“That’s it.” JJ groans, his fingers relaxing slightly in my hair as I start to move with him. The hand between my legs starts to move quicker against my clit, my legs shaking as I try to finish him before he finishes me. I hum around his shaft, tears blurring my eyes as every nerve ending starts to feel on fire.
“I’m cumming.” His head hits the seat as he holds my head down, shooting down my throat as my own body is thrown into oblivion. I can barely swallow as stars line my vision and my body shakes uncontrollably. The lack of oxygen didn’t help.
Finally, he releases the hold on my hair and I slide into the floorboard on my knees, makeup burning my eyes as I look up at him. My throat was raw and my pussy was on fire but I’d never felt more sated. JJ looked as satisfied as I felt as he slowly zipped his shorts back up and wiped sweat from his brow.
“I hate you.” My voice is hoarse and I desperately needed water. I also needed to know who my best friend was fucking right outside my car.
“But you love how I felt inside you.”
“You didn’t wear a condom.”
“Hopefully you’re on something.”
“Hopefully you don’t have something.”
JJ smirks as he leans forward on his knees, eyeing me like we didn’t just have amazing orgasms together.
“I guess next time I need to fuck you harder. Take care of all that attitude.” I narrow my eyes at him until his hand is suddenly around my throat and he’s pulling me into a sizzling kiss. I moan into his mouth, twisting my fingers in his hair as our tongues collide. I’d never been a fan of kissing but his mouth was otherworldly. I kiss him harder, feeling the slight stubble along his upper lip. I nearly whimper when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting our lips.
“Next time I’m eating that tight fucking pussy until you cum all over my face. Then I’m going to tie you up and play with you until you make an absolute mess. After that I’m gonna lay back and watch as you use me to get yourself off. You’ll use me however you want me while I don’t lift a finger.” JJ kisses me again as my insides turned molten, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips.
“I’ll see you later, princess.”
Then the car door opens and is slammed in my face as I try to figure out what the fuck just happened.
#smutwarning#outer banks smut#jj maybank smut#obx2#jj maybank fic#jj maybank imagine#rudy pankow#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj obx
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Damian x reader where she is having a bad day and he comforts her! A lot of kisses and cuddles and Damian being a low key flirt! Please and thank u!
Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader
"Y/N! you will never believe what Penguin tried today at the charity luncheon! Amid the chicken fingers too! It was quite a hilarious event and- oh. Oh shit. What's wrong?" the hero had easily flitted through your window like a leaf on the cold breeze- a chill which had been blowing into your room for almost two, frozen hours.
"Hey Dames. I'm fine, what happened with Penguin?" you muttered, pushing hair behind your ear to look up at the shocked man in front of you. You quickly wiped away at running mascara, frustrated you even let your emotions get the better of you tonight.
Damian didn't reply, instead he firmly shut your window behind him with one hand, his eyes not leaving your curled figure buried in a corner of your bed. Next he backed up to your closet, continuing to analyze your every move while he changed out of his Batman suit, a new suit that was truly meant for him, into sweats you kept for him a one of your drawers.
You felt the bed dip and Damian was sat at the edge staring at you as if you were going to get up and run away.
You were still curled in a ball, knees to your chest and head resting on your arms as you grumbled, "I asked what happened with Penguin" and Damian gave you a slight frown, "what happened with you?"
"Rude"
"You've been crying"
"Have not"
"So pretty even when lying to me" he mumbled, sliding into place next to you, draping a long arm around you to pull you into his chest. You huffed in response, but it was more an excuse to inhale the smell of dry cedar, vanilla, and just a hint of sweat- overwhelmingly perfect (for my connoisseurs I'm talking ORMAIE Toï Toï Toï).
Giving into your silence he pulled out his phone, pulling up footage clearly from the day's events. You watched Penguin try to steal a highly expensive painting being auctioned, but before he could get away, Damian was bounding towards the thief, using Penguin's own henchmen's heads as stepping stones. They fell almost like bowling pins as your hero flipped and spun through the air, Penguin kept trying to shoot at the blur but Damian just had the villain spinning in circles until he too collapsed without Damian even having to lift a finger.
"Dick would be soooo proud" you giggled leaning your head up to look at Damian who was grinning proudly at the film himself.
"There's that smile. And yeah, I already sent it to him! He says he's gonna try the same move next week." Damian mused, tucking the phone back into his pocket, his arm still draped around you as he mindlessly tapped his fingers on your side.
You realized he wasn't going to drop it so you broke the silence, "I just had a bad day Dames, nothing to it, it happens."
"You know I would literally kill anyone who hurt yo-"
"I know Dames, I know. But this wasn't really anyones fault, I just get in my own head sometimes." you huffed, actually relaxing after getting the thoughts off your chest.
He tapped your skill with a frown, "well, then let the people in there know I'm coming for them next."
"You're coming for my thoughts?" you snorted.
"If that's what is takes to make you happy, I'll call Zatanna we can magic school bus this shit or something-" Damian was joking, but you appreciated the sentiment.
"Sometimes you've just gotta be a little sad D, I'll be okay,"
"Promise?"
"With you by my side? I could never be upset for long, I promise."
"That's what I like to hear!"
"I could totally use some pizza though, you know, to cure me"
"For you, Beloved, the world" your hero responded, pulling out his phone to order your favorites, clearly excited just to spend time with you. Seriously though, with him around it was impossible to be upset for long.
"You know I love you, Damian Wayne."
"I sure hope so, no other heroes better be coming through your window at night!" he teased back, pressing a kiss to your forehead while you shook your head with a laugh, feeling the pressure and weight get lifted off your shoulders already.
~
Short but sweet, ty for the request!! <3
#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne fluff#damian wayne fanfic#damian wayne#damian wayne cute#damian wayne is batman#damian wayne x fem!reader#damian wayne fanfiction#batboys x reader#batboys x you#dc fluff#dc cute#batfam x reader#batfam x you
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Rating the Diaboys based on how much I trust them to do a coffee run: Sakamaki brothers edition ☕️ ⚰️
(The majority of these headcanons come from the lovely @magnificentkidclamclod and I thank her immensely for being a huge nerd about these idiots with me)
Shu:
2/10
First of all, good luck getting him to walk out the front door
I think the moment you asking him to pick up some coffee for you, he'll just give you the thousand yard gaze
He might go out if you beg him enough…
But there’s a very high possibility that he’ll fall asleep in the café while he waits for your order to be ready
And who knows when he’ll come back once he’s entered sleep mode 🤦🏻
So basically…I hope you like cold coffee…if you get it at all
Reiji:
8/10
He’s reliable af
You want a venti caramel frappe w/ extra caramel drizzle. Etta whipped cream, 6 pumps of butterscotch syrup, 8 pumps of vanilla and double blended at a temperature of 37°F?
Consider it done 🫡
That being said…he might be feeling bored or petty….
Don’t let him feel bored or petty
You’re gonna end up becoming his next Guinea pig for his newest drug 💀
Laito:
9/10
He’s actually a very reliable guy to ask to get you coffee
No, really
He’ll get you EXACTLY what you asked for
The only reason he’s not perfect is cuz he might get distracted and either go shopping or stop to flirt with some people he sees
He might also want a “reward” after he brings you your order…
Wether or not he gets a reward is entirely up to you 😉
Kanato:
-12/10
…..no
Send literally anyone else
Literally go to the café yourself
Do NOT ask him to go on a coffee run
He will 100% attack someone if he didn’t already attack you for asking him to do such a demeaning task
He’s low key that one nightmare customer everyone who works customer service dreads getting…
Just don’t send him
Ever.
Ayato:
4/10
So main problem with him is he’s a bit forgetful
Your order could be as simple as possible and he’s still forget what you wanted
But he’s to prideful to ask you to repeat to him what you wanted
Surely you’ll drink whatever ore-sama orders!
….just drink whatever he brings you and go get your order yourself next time 🤦🏻
Subaru:
10/10
This is the BEST person to send on a coffee run
Yes he’s gonna complain about it, but he’ll get it done ASAP
He’ll memorize your order to the letter just so he can make the process run much more smoothly
Won’t dilly dally, he’s going straight home the second the order reaches his hands
The best delivery boy of the Sakamaki household!
#diabolik lovers#sakamaki brothers#sakamaki family#shu sakamaki#reiji sakamaki#laito sakamaki#kanato sakamaki#ayato sakamaki#subaru sakamaki
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I haven't seen anybody write out Hobi being a librarian and I think that'd be soo cute! Sweet Hobi all smitten on a regular reader, and of course, they're a regular for a reason, but both are too nervous and self-conscious to act on any of their desires.
oh, this is so soft, i love this so much. thank you for sending it in! i hope you enjoy. <3
we're celebrating jess's birthday! hobi hours are: OPEN.
low key, no pressure
pairing: hoseok x reader (no pronouns used)
genre: mutual pining, librarian au; fluff
warnings: swearing, hobi being a cute disaster, this is kind of idiots to lovers but since the lovers development is implied i didn't tag it that way but just know it's there ok, taehyung is a shithead, mostly unedited.
rating: e for everyone
wordcount: 1.6k
Hoseok is a little misguided, is the thing.
What counts is that he has good intentions, even if they don’t hold up under closer examination. But he’s sort of a disaster of a human, so he takes Taehyung’s ribbing on the chin and forges ahead with his plan.
All because he doesn’t know how to talk to you.
He knows your favorite book because you check it out at least once a month. He knows your favorite flower because there’s a bouquet of them tattooed so artfully on your arm they look painted on. He knows your name and your address and your phone number because it’s in the system, and he has enough sense not to do anything with them.
“You could just—and I’m just spitballing here—say hello.”
Hoseok frowns. “I say hello every time…?”
Taehyung is a year younger, so it feels weird to disappoint him. Settles in his stomach all funny, like he’s doing something wrong but can’t figure out what it is. “That’s not—” Taehyung sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you always like this? Like, this is your baseline?”
“I’m not following.”
“Clearly,” Taehyung mutters. He looks good today, Hoseok thinks. Looks like he’d woken up and put actual effort into his appearance. Looks like the summer has favorites. Doesn’t at all look like he’s on the verge of a mental break, which is more than Hoseok can say about himself. “Hyung, I’m going to ask this point-blank—”
“Maybe don’t? I’m fragile.”
“—Do you know how to flirt?”
Hoseok scoffs, all instinct. Of course he knows how to flirt. He’d flirted his way through undergrad and then grad school with great success. He flirts with the grumpy IT guy the city sends over, just because it’s funny to watch his cheeks turn a shade of red he’d previously thought was impossible. Hell, he flirts with stupidity every single day, so who is Kim Taehyung to ask him such a thing?
“Don’t ask silly questions, Taehyungie.”
“So you’re saying you do?”
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
“Okay,” Taehyung shrugs, and Hoseok sighs in relief, glad that particular interrogation is over. “Flirt with me, then.”
And then he’s choking on his tea, expensive cashmere sweater now soiled with half a cup of honey vanilla chamomile. “You asshole,” he wheezes, barely able to get the words out before his throat constricts again, warning him of another impending coughing fit. “My sister bought me this sweater.”
“Noona has great taste,” comes Taehyung’s easy reply, paying no mind to Hoseok at all, “which is to be expected, of course. Now, please flirt with me once you’ve recovered.”
“Why?” Hoseok snaps, because the way he’s blotting at his sweater with a soggy napkin is humiliating. He doesn’t even have a change of clothes anymore; had taken his gym bag out of his car a few weeks ago when he’d gotten the flu.
Taehyung sighs again—put-upon, like he’s dealing with an obtuse child. “Because I’m trying to facilitate true love, and I can’t send you into battle unprepared.”
Hoseok just glares. He’s going to have to spend his lunch break running back to his apartment to change.
Right, the plan.
It’s all dependent on you sticking to your routine, which goes like this: every Sunday afternoon, without fail, you swing by the library and make pleasant small talk with Taehyung as you return your books. Taehyung, without fail, asks what you thought of them and recommends new ones accordingly. You always smile and say thank you, and your voice always sounds like church bells.
(“That’s because you want to mar—”
“I will fire you if you finish that thought.”)
Hoseok is always conveniently absent during these exchanges, pretending to do paperwork in his office. This is why Taehyung calls him a coward, and that’s probably true, it’s just… Hoseok has talked to you enough times to develop a big fat crush, and that’s not acceptable. He doesn’t even know you; doesn’t want to romanticize you and put you on a pedestal.
Hence the plan.
If he can’t talk to you with words, he’ll do it with books.
It’s genius, regardless of what Taehyung thinks.
But Taehyung is integral to the plan, so Hoseok has to get him on board. “Look, I already put it together, I just need you to… suggest it.”
“You mean be manipulative.”
“It’s not manipulative,” Hoseok argues, sending a glare Taehyung’s way. “It’s no different from you suggesting books any other time.”
“I just don’t understand why you can’t just say hi, I really dig your taste in literature, would you like to grab a coffee sometime? It’s not that hard, hyung, you really don’t need to do all of…” He points at the stack of books Hoseok has assembled. “...This.”
There’s about three seconds before Hoseok explodes, and Taehyung must realize it because he’s throwing his hands up and going fine, fine and helping sort the books.
As annoying as Taehyung can be, he really is a great salesman.
Powerful, too, because Hoseok wouldn’t have lasted a second in your presence. Probably would’ve melted under the warmth of your smile; would’ve withered as soon as you strolled in with your tattoo visible; would’ve fallen to his knees the second you said hello.
Taehyung has done none of those things, which Hoseok knows because he’s standing on a chair, watching from the window in his office. He knows Taehyung can see his face peeking through the blinds, keeps rolling his eyes whenever the two of them make eye contact, but he schools his expression and keeps Hoseok’s secret safe.
“I actually have some special recommendations for you today,” he hears Taehyung say. Watches as he hands over the bundle of paperbacks. “Our lovely head librarian thought you might be interested in these. He picked them out just for you.”
You look taken aback. It sends Hoseok into a panic, wondering if he’d gone too far. Maybe he should’ve listened to Taehyung, after all, but surely a stack of books is less forward and weird than a coffee date? You can just not read the books and return them if they aren’t your thing, but turning someone down face-to-face is much harder.
No, no—Hoseok did the right thing. He has to have faith in the plan.
“Wow,” you reply, a beautiful smile lighting up your face. “These look great. Please tell him I said thank you.”
Taehyung’s smile is not beautiful. It’s greasy and smarmy. “Oh, I most certainly will.”
Taehyungie (11:32am): Can’t make it into work today, hyung
Taehyungie (11:32am): I’m super sick
Taehyungie (11:32am): Sorry 😉
Hoseok can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Kim Taehyung is a traitor. A treasonist. A miscreant. Another word for a disloyal person who is not only willing to abandon his hyung in his time of need, but is gleeful about it.
What could Hoseok possibly have done in a past life to deserve this?
Doesn’t matter, he decides. This is totally fine. Hoseok’s going to prove Taehyung wrong. He’s going to have a proper conversation with you. He’s going to ask what you thought about the books he’d chosen. He’s going to recommend new ones. He’s going to flirt. He might even ask if you want to grab coffee sometime, and he’s going to relay all of this to Taehyung right before he tells him to go to hell.
Just one small hiccup: he has to survive you first.
You’re surprised to see him, and the way your eyes widen makes Hoseok’s heart skip a beat. God, he’s worse off than he thought. Gets worse when you reach the circulation desk and he can smell your perfume: something soft and earthy that reminds him of a spring breeze. Has his knees shaking, on the verge of buckling beneath him, and it’s only through pure spite that he stays upright.
“Good afternoon,” he says with a small wave.
You smile. “Hi, Hoseok. Haven’t seen you up here in a while.”
“Ah, well, you know. Paperwork.”
You nod, but the jerky motions of your head tell Hoseok you probably don’t do much paperwork at your job. “Yeah, of course. Is Taehyung out today?”
“Yep, took a sick day.” He shouldn’t, but he thinks Taehyung deserves it: “Sent me a text this morning and said it was coming out both ends. Seems bad.” You’re grimacing. Oh god, you’re grimacing. “Anyway! Here for your weekly return?”
Like a switch has been flipped, you scramble into action, reaching into your tote bag to retrieve the books. “I—yeah, sorry, let me just…”
“Sure, take your time. Did you like them?”
“Yes,” you answer, gaze slowly rising to meet his own. There are words clearly biting at the back of your teeth and, like Hoseok has done a million times before, you swallow them. Slowly, you hand over all the books but one. “I especially liked this one.”
The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. Hoseok had agonized over that one for days, wondering if it was too much, if it’d send the wrong message. Some of the other books were more obvious, but this one was… well. It’s not what was said that’s important, it’s what wasn’t, and Hoseok had concocted that stupid plan because he couldn’t say what he wanted to.
But you’re handing it over with a hesitation that has Hoseok smiling despite himself. “Would you like to hang onto it a little longer?”
“Would that be okay?”
“Of course.” And then, because he’s brave and he doesn’t want to end up like one of Ishiguro’s characters, he takes advantage of a fleeting moment of bravery. “Maybe we could—aish. Would you like to discuss it over coffee sometime? The book, I mean. With me.”
You nod, and your smile is shy. “I would love to.”
#hoseok x reader#bts x reader#jhope x reader#hoseok fluff#hoseok imagine#hoseok fanfic#bts scenarios#bts fanfiction#bts fluff#fic: jess drabbles#jewel answers#jewel writes
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How Mansk Would be with his SO
Please read before interacting.
This man really snatched up my attention. The artwork you guys are putting out is phenomenal and I blame this on you. @nin3kyuu@recom-recruit 😂💙
will buy you matching sunglasses so you stop stealing his.
very into ‘parallel play’ will read a book and peek at you over the top while you’re doing your favorite activity.
Will also enjoy if you want to nap curled up against his chest while he’s reading.
Will NOT be waking you up because he loves how cute you look when you’re sleeping.
Has been through some shit in the military. He has a hard time sleeping. Stays up late to avoid sleeping and is really grateful when you stay up with him.
Poor guy has nightmares too sometimes and will reach for you and pull you close, loves being little spoon.
Uses a squishmallow as a pillow
Likes low key activities with minimal social interaction or only close friends
Was super nervous to ask you out but hid it really well.
Your hand is so smol, he loves when you hold his pinkie while you’re out together.
Pretends to be annoyed by you playing with his tail. Wraps it around your leg all the time. Has to have you close.
Likes making food together, wears a ‘kiss the cook’ apron
Loves you in his clothes.
Will wrap you up in a blanket like a baby.
Loves forehead kisses, giving and receiving.
If Bridgehead were to have a military ball, he’d love to see you dressed up and will look at you so in love like its the first day he’s seeing you all over again
Loves to tease you, would never embarrass you tho
Very quiet and low-key in public but if someone flirts with you or makes you uncomfortable, he will teleport to you immediately
A listener, has a harder time expressing emotions
If you want kids, I get the vibe he would be a great dad
NSFW Below
I get the vibe of mostly vanilla but loves being told what to do
Can be Dom but loves watching you on top of him.
V v long
Will not be sharing with anyone
High drive, especially after a long day at work
Will praise you the whole time, “You’re doing so well. You’re gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
Extremely sensitive ears, came once just from you kissing them
Spooning sex, clings to you, moans in your ear
Sighs your name when he cums
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lost characters and their sexualities bc i say so:
jack: straight. this man is not attracted to other men. he’s vanilla as fuck but in a kind way. strong ally. has a hard time keeping up with all the labels but he tries his best.
kate: i have never been more sure of a character being a lesbian. she has stronger chemistry with women she barely knows than with any men she’s paired with. she was ready to die for claire and sun. let kate kiss a girl.
sawyer: identifies as straight but has definitely done some stuff while drunk. has been to a drag show. low key homophobic without trying to be.
claire: pansexual. she is a lover of the human spirit. don’t know how she got pregnant tbh. she’s so innocent really. bless claire. get her a girlfriend though.
charlie: bisexual with a strong preference for women. has had some experiences with men so he doesn’t rule them out but has never actually pursued a man bc he’s shy.
sun: bisexual but doesn’t know it. her first kiss was a girl best friend but probably assumed that’s what all girls do. she’s wrong. she likes women but grew up with traditional parents so never saw it as an option. but she’s happy now with jin :)
jin: straight. doesn’t have many thoughts on his own sexuality. just loves his wife really. he’s a simple man. chill with gays cause he knows they won’t flirt with sun. cautious of kate (lesbian who has a crush on sun).
locke: this man doesn’t believe in labels. believes sexuality is a natural part of the human expression and shouldn’t be put into a box. goes to pride. makes a sign.
juliet: bisexual with a strong preference for women. should probably team up with kate and educate sun. has been very aware of her love for women from a young age. good for her.
sayid: straight. low key such a ladies man. a flirt if you will. has an excellent talent for spotting the lgbtq community. prefers gay clubs.
shannon: sapphic. she’s never been with a woman but she’s definitely had crushes on them. unlike with men she’s incredibly shy when it comes to her attraction to women.
boone: gay. this is a gay man. he wanted jack. jealous of shannon and sayid bc he also wanted sayid. it’s so obvious.
desmond: bisexual. a top. open to try anything once. goes to gay bars with sayid.
ben: asexual. this man has never had a sexual thought in his life. would like someone to grow old with.
hurley: probably gay. that’s why he’s never had a girlfriend. bc he doesn’t like girls. he likes boys. he’s gay. good for him.
micheal: a straight man yet again. unfortunately this show is full of straight men. strong ally though. he’d prefer a gay son over a thot daughter :/
ana lucia: lesbian. a top. hates men actually. is offended by their presence. pretends to be tough around girls but actually just wants to be loved by them.
libby: cottage core lesbian. wants to go on picnics with her girlfriend. poor libby.
#lost tv#lost abc#lost tv show#jack shephard#kate austen#james sawyer ford#claire littleton#charlie pace#sun kwon#sun hwa kwon#jin soo kwon#jin kwon#hurley reyes#john locke#boone carlyle#shannon rutherford#sayid jarrah#desmond hume#juliet burke#ana lucia cortez#libby#michael dawson#ben linus
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Second Chair Spark Ch 6
Warnings: Language, talk of the job, smuuuuutttt!!
I already suck at thinking up my own cases, so the case I 100% stolen from 15….3? Barba’s first episode, 25 acts, just altered to include our girls and not him.
**
You’d expected Novak to come storming into your office screaming about how incredibly unprofessional you were that morning (which you would of course fire back that not only had she started it, but she brought your personal life into work) but all you got was a text saying she needed you in her office to start working on the case. You were surprised, you’d legitimately thought she was going to throw you off the case after the outburst at the 16th, though…there was still time.
“What’d’you need?” Your voice was hard as you entered Casey’s office, approaching her desk. She reached off to the side, tossing a case file towards you, “Get digging.” Her gaze didn’t meet yours as she gestured towards the table, you huffed, picking up the file, pulling your I-pad and legal pad out of your bag before you settled in at the table. Jocelyn Paley, author of the newest erotic novel ’Twenty-Five Acts’ had appeared on Adam Cain’s talk show the night before. The file said that they’d gone for drinks, she’d been flirting with him, but when they got to her hotel room, he crossed a line, choking her out with his belt before anally penetrating her, much against her will. You knew Cain’s life was already openly spread across the media, so you took to Jocelyn’s. Periodically checking in with SVU who had someone speed reading through the book to try and figure things out. The next night Jocelyn was at an event party when Cain came after her again, assaulting her in an elevator. You and Novak had a meeting with her, explaining that she needed to be honest with you about everything, she went over her story with you again, thankfully not varying from what she’d told the detectives
.After Jocelyn left you both buried yourself into the case, you low key hated the fact that you were stuck in Novak’s office instead of your own where you could at least loosen up a little bit while you worked. You’d been working on how to really get to Jocelyn and Cain when they took the stand, and Novak questioned them, switching back to your I-pad, moving through her social media before letting out a grunt of a huff.
“What?” The other lawyer practically barked out, annoyed at the interruption.
“Something’s not right…”
“And that means what exactly?”
“Jocelyn…there’s something she’s not telling us. I’ve combed through all of her social media accounts, there is nothing to even make a joke that she’s even the slightest above vanilla. I’m starting to think the only sex position this girl knows is missionary.” Casey practically snorted,
“So?”
“So if a girl doesn’t have any knowledge of that kind of sex life how does she write an entire book on it.”
“People aren’t always that open about it Gerard.” You quirked a brow, giving a small chuckle,
“Some of these sites are unbelievable anonymous, you could send a post and no one could know who it was without tracing your IP address.” You sighed, “Besides, people with asphyxiation kinks usually cover the bruising with scarves or turtlenecks, there’s not a single picture anywhere of Jocelyn wearing either or with any bruising.” Casey certainly raised a brow at that, “We need to send someone to talk to her ex boyfriend, check out her apartment….I really don’t think she wrote this book.”
“And plagiarism helps our case how?”
“If Jocelyn didn’t write the book, then she doesn’t have these yearnings in the bedroom, which mean Cain jumped the gun, assuming she was super kinky, it means she really didn’t want it when he choked her out and forced himself on her.” Casey pondered over what you were saying, she knew you were smart, and your social media digs usually brought up more than the perp or victim could even imagine.
“Call Rollins…” She actually met your eye this time, “And Gerard…if you’re right…you can take the questioning period.” You smirked at that, she only let you take them when she had a feeling you were right. Plus you were still pissed about the whole Nikki thing, and were more than willing to take the opportunity to showboat, pissing her off even further
*****
As it turned out, you were more than 100% right, a professor of Jocelyn’s at college had pen’d the book, wanting someone young and innocent to claim they wrote it to help with the sales, Jocelyn or course would lose the book deal and all of her money with it if she ever told the truth.
The jury still seemed to be not convinced as Cain took the stand for the defence, he of course claimed that he had no idea, figuring that she was into that kind of thing, she’d slipped him her underwear at dinner and invited her up to her hotel room. All that seemed fairly consensual. When Rita turned to your table saying she had no more questions, she spotted the devilish grin on your face and she knew instantly she was about to lose.
“Mr Cain…do you normally choke out your sexual partners?” You began, moving closer to him, placing a gentle hand down on the barrister of the stand.
“Only if that’s what they’re into.” He replied, a feigned sense of innocence on his face.
“Really? Because we’ve gathered Ms Paley is not actually in to that kind of thing, yet…” Your hand moved out, turning on the t.v. to display the images of her darkly bruised neck, “She somehow came out of a night with you bruised this badly? Yet never in her life before had she been bruised, we all know how hard it can be to hide something like that with make up, a scarf is much easier, but she doesn’t seem to be a fan of those either.”
“She wanted it.”
“Are you sure?” You quirked a brow, “Or did you just lose control?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Tell me,” Both your hands were on the railing now as you store down Cain, “How’d the belt feel in your hand as you choked her out….where was the buckle?” You quirked a brow, you felt him tense, you pushed off the stand, keeping eye contact as you moved backwards.
“What? You want me to show you?” His voice was laced with hate, and he was playing right into your game. Your hand slid behind you, grabbing the a spare belt out of your bag, the smirk evident on your face.
”You know what…that sounds like a pretty good idea…” You moved the belt into his view, practically feeling Rita’s protests coming, yet she didn’t call for an objection. You laced it around your neck, “You know, leaving the buckle against someone’s spine isn’t exactly ideal…it can leave damage…” You slid a finger between the buckle and the back of your neck, tossing the length to Cain, “So…show me how you choked her..” He barely tugged on the belt, “Oh come on Cain, you can do better than that, show me exactly what your like Sir!”
You felt the belt constrict in his rage against you, you were more than quick to flip around, managing to slide it off your neck and onto your wrist as he pulled it so tight it constricted the blood flow into your hand, his eyes glaring into yours. You’d expected that, you hadn’t expected him to lunge at you with his free hand, closing around your exposed throat, screaming obscenities at you as the court officers pulled him off you. Casey felt her heart jump, and a spark of…something. You were barely phased, a smirk evident on your face as you took in the shaken faces of the jury, you dropped the belt from your wrist,
“The people rest Your Honour.
”****
Donnelly had taken a recess after the shenanigans in the courtroom had completed the trial, leaving it up to the jury, and Novak was quick to make sure that your next stop was her office, blazer’s shed, buttons undone buttons exposing more than inside the courtroom. Your arguing was so fast there was barely a moment for breath between your words,
“What the actual fuck were you thinking Gerard!?”
“Uh..maybe that there was a pretty high chance our case was going down the toilet, easily more than half that jury was on Cain’s side!”
“I SAID NO MORE SHOWBOATING!”
“AND WHAT IF IT WINS THE FUCKING CASE?!”
“You had the audacity to do that in front of all of my coworkers, you practically sandbagged your own team!! WHAT THE FUCK?!”
“I’M JUST TRYING TO MAKE SURE THE RIGHT PEOPLE GET FUCKING JUSTICE, FOR FUCK’S—“ You were cut off when the tension in the room shifted back from anger to sexual, Casey’s lips met yours in a fiery kiss, you practically melted against her. She caged you in her arms, pressing you against the wall of her office, a hand digging its way into your hair, tugging at the roots, causing you to moan against her mouth. Taking advantage she plunged her tongue into you, you whimpered, aching between your legs at actually being able to finally taste something that was so uniquely her.
As she rolled her hips against yours, you let out a breathy moan,
“Casey…” Fuck she nearly drenched herself at that, you’d submitted to her, and there was nothing fucking hotter than that. Her lips moved back to yours, she nipped at your bottom lip, pulling it away from your mouth as she gently walked backwards until her knees hit the couch, biting at your neck as she collapsed against it, pulling you down into her lap. You were quick to straddle her lap, fingers burying themselves into her hair, lips moving against each other like they were truly the only ones meant for each other. Your hips ground against each other, whimpers and groans filling the room.
You gasped away from her mouth, burying your head into her neck as her hand found its way up your skirt, cupping your heat.
“Yes baby girl?” She quirked a brow at your, slowly tantalizing you through your panties, letting her fingers graze gently against your most sensitive parts as you whined in her lap. “You know…you’ve been such a fucking brat today I don’t know if you deserve to cum.” You practically sobbed against her she spanked your ass, “I feel like I should spend the rest of the day making you as wet as fucking possible before I finally fuck the shit out of you tonight.”
Every single one of your senses were on fire as you ground against her hand, letting out an audible moan as she finally slipped a finger in, “Quiet…” Her lips met yours again, silencing your moans as her finger continued their torturous assault on your pussy. She could feel it clenching around her fingers, you about to come before she pulled it out, gaining eye contact with you as she sucked them clean
.“Can I please touch you?” You whispered into the room, Casey nodded, kissing you softly, letting you push her down onto the couch, moving against your body, her skin on fire, expectant on what was to come….until both your phones started going off. She groaned heavily while you loudly yelled ‘fuck’.
As it turned out, your little show in the courtroom had won over the jury and they were a little too fast to come back with a verdict. Casey and you promptly fixed your appearances before heading down to the courtroom, happy with the verdict, not so happy when Donnelly called both of you into her chambers.
“Listen…” She started, “I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you but Cragen’s been updating me on how much you’ve been fighting, and frankly I don’t give a shit. Figure out what’s going on in between the two of you and fight it out already, preferably off work property. You work fantastically together and in this department, I’d hate for whatever this is to screw that up.”
#casey novak#casey novak x reader#second chair spark#law and order#law and order svu#svu#law and order special victims unit
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Japanese high school au dabbles
Well, then I will dabble on my interpretation with @askburningpassion involved. Remember, this is my interpretation; it is not really 100 percent.
The fangirls learned that messing with either twin is a lost cause. Despite their jealousy of how easily they got along with him, they are not attracted to Riki. Heck, there are times when the twins just let him be chased as they sit on top of the lockers.
However, if either love rot brat tries to touch Rai... they learn the brutal and traumatizing reasons that will cost them everything-- Riki would greatly despise them. Their friends would abandon them... thanks to Zelda's devious psychological skills. Like its very terrifying that Zelda got personal information from NINJAS to ruin a person's image in the school- either forcing the fools to accept being a pariah or transferring schools to save face and their future. But the scariest of all--Suni's wrath.
Like a vengeful living specter, they never realized the shy baby sister of the Visser twins was even able to retaliate- let alone being scarier than Zelda. Even alpha bitch, Masami would be startled the first time. Sure, Masami would have enough money and corrupt cops, but the back of her mind told her that would only more significantly fall upon herself. If she got Zelda pegged down, the Suni would come after her to disfigure her lovely looks. Her beautiful body with the curves of Aphrodite and the face crafted by the gods-- damaged. Yes, she could get Suni arrested for assault and have surgery to fix her precious assets- but then it'll not be a natural beauty only being highlighted by makeup and her wealth~! Masami's rich personality and narcissus brain could not handle that. So she retreats and has to woe the idiot pretty boy in other methods. That won't stop her from being shitty toward Rai, but she is much more careful about it. She has to wait until the twins are at a very safe distance.
God won't touch TWO angry Visser siblings. So, please don't bother the twins and Rai carelessly, and then the twins won't bother them.
Short one but the fangirls is easily scared off by the twin's father. All he has to do is walk over to the group.
Aside from protecting Rai from brain rot fangirls, the twins and Fedelis are very sweet toward her. It was like the girl had just adopted two older sisters and an uncle/grandpa. They make up all the times the poor girl was left out. Letting her go cools things the other kids haven't done. Petting Vanilla Wafer, trying out new foods. Reading great novels and video games, or at least trying them out. Zelda taught the child to have fun and not give a shit about those who don't bother trying to know Rai as a person.
Papa Yamada at times tries to convince Suni to join a sports team-- cause he saw the girl's talent... but usually falls flat as Suni politely reclines and gets a silent glare from Zelda. He low-key fears Zelda after realizing how far that girl is willing to screw someone's life and gets away with it if pushed to do so. Prays that the rival clan wouldn't try to recruit her, or they'll be SCREWED. Believes their father to be a Kaiju... Like Gojira or Gamera. He's not wrong- Fedelis is intimating but very caring to his daughters. He may have tried to flirt with him one time in drag-- his ego was left bruised for a couple of weeks. Suni finds him overbearing; she is firm on her answer of not wanting to join a sports club or team. Yet he could not take no, so her patients for her teacher was wearing thin. And he better be wise to keep his mouth shut the next time. And Zelda is predisposed to be a little rebellious with authority figures, aside from those who have earned her good graces. The elder sister is just shaking her head at this adult idiot.
Mama Yamada she's happy about her children making friends with the Visser twins. Sure one needs a lot of self-confidence, and the other is an odd duck, but they don't give her son panic attacks and are very kind to her baby princess. She would trust them, besides her son, to babysit Rai. At first wary of their father-- but she realized he was a good man, a doctor. And maybe those Indo recipes buttered up the fierce housewife. The twins are a little wary of her. Mama Yamada seems to be missing part of her finger and is a bit freakishly ready to kill- from what they saw, her futilely beating sense in her husband and the side comments from other people. Like they know she is hiding something but cannot figure out why- at least not yet.
Now Riki-san he's just glad that the two girls are NORMAL. Like not hounding him and no romantic interest-- He had mixed emotions, this boy was hunted relentlessly, yet the twins were not that interested. It is nice, but it takes time for the boy to get used to it. Once, Zelda (a lesbian) said that she rates Vanilla wafer, her Furby, then Jollibee 6-pc Chickenjoy bucket with a side of rice and gravy. But he was glad about the comparison, weirdly. Maybe Zelda has a slight grudge against the boy as a forced closeted lesbian seeing this other closeted lbgt (Riki) being dumb as rocks and a coward not to turn down these love zombies. She can see that he is causing more misfortune to himself and his family (especially, in this case, to his little sister.) He failed his little sister by not recognizing the cause for not just setting a boundary. Sure, Zelda could tell him so- but how the girl sees it- her words would fall on deaf ears. So she and Suni wanted to make sure Rai had more smiles in her life and pick up his slack. (AKA their little sister now)
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So I've been obsessively playing BG3 since last week (and despite that, I'm only just now reaching the final section of Act 1). I'm copying some stuff from Discord cus I wanna be able to look back on my thoughts but have only been posting to Discord/Twitter/BlueSky lol... let me write more long-form about this game
Anyway spoilers for BG3 obviously, don't read if you aren't through the Grove questline in Act 1:
ok i just did the tiefling party night, here are my thoughts
1) boy i'm smitten with astarion (PREDICTABLE)
2) i'm not smitten enough that the sex scene wasn't really awkward, also i'm assuming vanilla faces have lips that actually move. preset face made the kiss soooo weird. but if you're a tiefling and ask about his scars, you can point out that they're written in the Infernal tongue and he's completely thrown off balance :")
3) before i savescummed to get out of gale's romance flags, astarion fucking said this shit and i lost it
4!) lae'zel..... lae'zel............... literally the only person who does not try to fuck you? she is SO mad about being rejected. and then she goes to FUCKING WYLL??? and he won't even fuck her lmao girl why. karlach is right there and suffering from rejection.
idk why she went to wyll truly because he is so low-key and the opposite of bloodthirsty. karlach is DYING on the other side of the camp. and she is so big and so bloodthirsty.
meanwhile wyll wants to awkwardly dance on the lakeshore. he wants flowers and chocolates and to not be covered in the blood of his enemies when finally making love. he wants pillow talk about swordsmanship used to protect the defenseless and the innocent. lae'zel rolling up like "you smell like the viscera of hundreds of goblins. get your dick out."
[Tumblr addition: for context, IDK how this flag triggers but there's a moment during adventuring where Lae'zel, if in the party, will suddenly come on VERY STRONGLY to the PC. Just talking threatingly about smelling their post-murder musk and wanting to taste their sweat. she is so offending if you tell her no thanks. Singing your praises as a warrior and how it gets her going to "well can't expect a weak soft-fleshed FIVE to understand they're missing out on a powerful githyanki TWENTY"]
5) karlach being so incredibly awkward trying to flirt and then so awkward but good-natured about the rejection is very real and relatable and also the fact she tries to shoot her shot right after acknowledging durge and astarion are getting cosy... ok go for it
6) shadowheart is like the most down to earth and smoothest of all the people who try to flirt with durge, like in any other circumstance he would share a bottle of wine with you but Not Tonight
7) gale really compares durge to his magical cat and expects to get laid.
druid durge voice "oh the cat's a talented wizard, i guess that makes this more romantic"
[Tumblr Addition: Actually if you play druid, you get a class-specific dialogue option that's much nicer like, "She must be an amazing beast :)" but lmao. lmao. my Durge did not appreciate it. In Gale's defense, it turns out she's a magical talking cat and his best friend in the whole wide multiverse who kept him alive when he had no one else... but still... Gale... this isn't the pick-up line you pull out on your non-wizard crush........]
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Mini Fanfic #911: Santa, Baby~ (Sonic)
8:45 a.m. at the Rabbits/Chaotix's Household's Living Room.)......
Espio: ('Sigh') It looks like Vector still hasn't answer my calls.....(Puts his Phone on the Coffee Table in Front of Him)
Silver: (Removes his Two Fingers From his Forehead While a Aqua Color Aura Disappers From his Body) And I can't seem to sense his presence anywhere. You think he must've went to the store to get something?
Blaze: (Places her Hand Under her Chin in a Thinking Like Manner) Perhaps.....
Charmy: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) But isn't most of the store are like....closed for the holidays?
Blaze: Most are. But there are a few gas stations and pharmacies that are still open for this time of year.
Cream: (Looks Up to the Window in Worry) I hope he isn't too lonely out there......
Cheese: Chao Chao......
Vanilla: There's no need for you two worry, everyone. Wherever he might've gone off to, I'm sure Vector will come back home sooner then-
'Door Opens'
?????: HO HO HO! MERRRRRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYBODY!
Cream/Charmy/Cheese: (Gasps Loudly at the Sight of....) SANTA!~/CHAO CHAO!~
Espio/Blaze/Silver: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Santa?
Vanilla: Sant-
Vanilla's eyes starts to widened a little as she suddenly starts noticing a few interesting (and very familiar) details present on "Santa's" current appearance. It wasn't long before she ultimately decided to play along with the charade.
Vanilla: (Smiles Brightly) Santa Claus!~ You've finally arrived to our humble home~
Espio: Wait. (Turns to Vanilla) You.... actually arranged for him to come here, mother?
Santa (?): (Smiles Brightly) Yeeup! She called me last night to come visit here in Christmas Morning. All while you kiddos were already fast asleep.
Vanilla: (Happily (And Quickly) Nodded) Mmhmm. I-It wasn't really an easy task mind you, but I'm so glad it paid off in the end.
Espio: (Starts at the Duo Unconvincingly) Hmmm.......
Silver: (Smiles Softly) Hey, if you're here, does that means you're gonna give each us our presents?
Santa (?): You guessed right! (Opens the Door While Bringing a Jolly Red Bag Filled Inside the Room) I wouldn't be known as the Great Saint Nick if I didn't.
Cream/Charmy: (Eyes Begins to Sparkle at the Sight of the Red Bag Filled With) Presents.....
Santa (?): Pretty neat, huh? And it's all just for you kindly folks here. (Starts Looking and Digging Inside the Bag) Cream, for bring the nicest little girl all year long, I took the liberty of getting you.....(Toss the Gift to Cream)
Cream: (Catches the Gift Before Gasping Loudly at the Sight of.....) SAILOR MOON PLUSHIE!~
Santa (?): (Chuckles Lightly) Yep! Your mother told that you've been taking a liking to the show as of late. So I figured who's better suited to look after the Sailor Guardian of Justice & Love then the bravest little bunny I know.
Cream: (Takes a Look at the Plushie With Determination in her Eyes) I will do everything in my power to protect her. (Happily Hugs the Plushie) Thank you, Santa!~
Santa (?): You're very welcome, kiddo. Oh! And Cheese! (Takes Something Else Out of the Bag) I got you Plushie too. (Toss the Gift to Cheese) It's your favorite JoJo Stand or.... whatever they call it, Star Platinum!
Cheese: (Gasps Loudly at the Sight of the Plushie Before Hugging it Happily) Chao Chao Chao Chao Chao!~
Charmy: (Excitedly Raises his Hand Up) Oohoohoh! Me next! Me next! I Whaddya got me, whaddya got me!?~
"Santa" toss Charmy's gift to him.
Charmy: (Gasps Loudly at the Gift he Got, Which is None Other Than....) NARUTO ULTIMATE NINJA STORM 4!?
Santa (?): Heard you those kind of ninja shows. So I thought a game involving around would be fun. Also, I'm not sure how far you are in the series. So do be warily of spoilers I guess.....
Charmy: (Salutes to.the Man in Red) Yes sir, Mr Santa Claus, sir! (Happily Hugs the Game) Thank you!~ (Points at Espio) Better be prepared, Espio the Chameleon! One if these days, I'll show you the essence of my OWN ninja power! BELIEVE IT!
Espio: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on his Face While his Lovers Softly Giggles Right Beside Him) Joy.....
Santa (?): Heads up, Love Birds! (Tosses Gifts Towards the Trio Respective)
Silver: (Catches One Gift Before Putting on a Bright Smile) Sweet! I got the Latest Clockwork Book!
Blaze: (Catches the Second Gift Before Gasping Softly at it) Is this scarf is really for me? It's so pretty.....
Espio: (Catches the Last Gift Before Widening his Eyes a Little at it) You....got me a cooking apron?
Santa (?): Word has it that your cooking skills are top notch. So what better way to show it off then wearing the part?
Blaze: (Turns to Espio) We didn't know you have a talent for cooking.
Espio: Yes. I...(Starts Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) learning how to cook for years now actually.
Silver: That is so cool.
Vanilla: Ooh! Could you wear the apron for us, dear? We wanna see how it looks on you.
Espio: I don't know......
Everyone: (Immediately Gives Espio the Puppy Dog Look) PLEEEEEASEEE!?~
Cream: We promise not to let Charmy make fun of you for it.
Charmy: Yea- Hey! I mean, I promise, but still!
Santa (?): (Gives Espio a Playful Smirk on his Face) I'm pretty sure you don't have to heart to say "no" to their faces now do you?
Espio: (Glares a Bit at "Santa" Before Sighing in Defeat) Alright....I suppose I should give the apron the proper wear.
Espio puts on his newly owned apron which has the "Do Not Disturb the Cook" Sign on the front.
Espio: (Shyly Looks Away While Rubbing his Arm) So....How does it look?
Vanilla: (Squeals Happily at the Sight of her Son) Oh my goodness, Espio, you look so wonderful!~
Charmy/Cream/Cheese: (Happily Nodded in Agreement)
Espio: You.....really think so?
Silver: (Smiles Softly) Yeah, man. You look great.
Blaze: (Smirks a Bit Seductively at the Chameleon) And handsome as well~ (Kisses Espio in the Cheek Along with Silver)
Espio: (Starts Blushing Before Changing into a Different Color and Sighing) Thanks for that......
Everyone: (Giggles Softly)
Santa (?): And last but certainly not least.....(Gives Vanilla her Gift) This is a gift just for you, milady~
Vanilla: (Opens the Tiny, Rectangular Shape Box Before Gasping at the Slight) A Heart Shaped Necklace!?~
Santa (?): It's not just any heart shaped necklace. It's a necklace that symbolizes the love, care, and passion you have for me- I-I mean!....The one you love and cherish.
Cream/Blaze/Silver: Awwwwwwwwwww!~
Santa (?): (Starts Whispering into Vanilla's Ears) Between you and me, I'm pretty positive that amazing boyfriend of yours wanted me to give that to you for your gift.
Vanilla: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness as a few Tears Starts Falling Down on his Face) You're right. ('Sniff') He really is amazing~ That's why I love my Vector-Kins oh so much~ (Happily Hugs "Santa" Lovingly) Thank you for helping him deliver this wonderful gift to me, Santa.
Santa (?): (Chuckles Lightly Whuoe Blushing) Ho Ho! Think nothing of it, miss. I'm just doing my work as always.
Vanilla: And you're doing a wonderful job at it.....Although.....
Santa(?): Hm?
Vanilla: I've been wondering This for quite a while now, but.....you don't happen to have a gift to give to Vector-Kins, now do you?
Santa(?): (Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened) Oh! I uhh...('Clears Throat') Funny you mentioned him, cause I....(Chuckles Awkwardly) kinda forgot to get him something last night....My mistakes.....
Vanilla: (Smiles Softly) Oh it's quite alright. (Picks Something Up From the Coffee Table) I already got him one a few days ago to be exact.
Santa(?): Oh really? What is it- ('GASPS') You got him The Greatest Adventure of Sherlock Holmes Book!!!?
Vanilla: (Happily Nodded) Mmhmm. I figured since he's such a talented detective, I would give him a book of one of his greatest role models as one of his gifts.
Santa(?): Wait. There's ANOTHER gift you wanna give him!?
Vanilla: Yep. But....it's a lot more personal if anything.
Santa(?): Oh, well.....(Rubbing the Back of his Head Back & Forth with a Sheepish Smile on his Face) I-I'm...sure it wouldn't be too much of a problem to tell Santa. I'll definitely keep it a secret.
Vanilla: (Smiles Brightly) Oh, you will?~ God bless!~
Santa (?): Yeah..... Bless.....
Vanilla: Well if you insist on knowing, then the second gift I will give to my darling Vector will be.......
Vanilla starts whispering the details into "Santa's" ear and each word that she comes out from her mouth causes the man in red to blush in a crimson like color.
Santa(?): O-Oh! So......T-T-That's gonna....be your gift to him?.....
Vanilla: (Nods While Having a Seductive Smirk on her Face) Mmmmmhmmm~
Santa(?): (Quickly Looks Down at his Arm) OHO! Would you look at the time!? (Looks Back at the Gang) I would LOVE to stay here with you all a little longer, but...I gotta get going now. (Made his Way Back to the Door) The Elves, reindeers, Mrs. Claus are expecting me to come back to the North Pole and-
Cream: Wait! I know you're in a hurry and everything, but....(Starts Frowning in Worry) I need to know. Have you seen Mr. Vector on your way here? He's like a daddy to me and I wanna know if he's coming back home safely.
Santa(?): (Felt Pure Happiness in his Heart as He Kneels Himself Down to Cream's Level) You have nothing to worry about, kiddo. Your old man will come back sooner than you think.
Cream: You think so?
Santa(?): I know so. He's the strongest, most cleverest crocodile I know!...Or...(Smiles Sheepishly While Blushing) At least that's what I've heard he's supposed to be. (Starts Getting Back Up on his Feet) But in the meantime....(Gently Ruffles the Top of Cream's Head) Just be a little patient for him, yeah?
Cream: (Nodded in Agreement) I will. (Smiles Softly) Thank you, Santa.
Santa(?): (Smiles Brightly) Don't mention it, kiddo. (Makes his Way to the Door) Now, if you folks don't mind, I got a bunch of cookies and milk waiting for me all the way to the Northern Pole. Until then.....(Waves Goodbye to Everyone) MERRRRRRRRRY CHRISTMASSSSSS!!!! (Immediately Rushes Out of the Door)
Everyone: (Happily Waves Goodbye to Santa) Goodbye, Santa!~/Have a Merry Christmas!~/ See ya next year!~/ Chao Chao Chao!~
Vanilla: (Stares at the Door With a Bit of a Smirk on her Face) 3.....2.....1.....
'DOOR OPENS'
Vector: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Smiles Brightly) I'M BACK!
Everyone: VECTOR!~
Cream: (Happily Rushes Over to the Crocodile and Hugs Him) You're back!~ (Gives Vector a Big Kiss on the Cheek Before Pouting at Him) Where have you been!? Do you have ANY idea how worried we were about you!?
Charmy: Yeah, man. You missed A LOT when you were gone! Santa-
Vector : Came by here? Yeah I know. I just saw him flew in the skies not too long ago actually.
Silver: Huh. Neat.
Blaze: (Places her Hands on her Hips) But that doesn't explain why you were missing this entire time.
Espio: Yes. (Raised an Eyebrow) We would love to you hear your explanation in all of this.
Vector: (Starts Sweating Bullet) I uhhhhhh.....
Vanilla: Now, everyone. I'm sure Vector will explain everything once we have our Christmas Breakfast. In order.
Espio: Ah! Right! It's my turn to make Breakfast. To the Kitchen everyone!
Everyone clears in rejoice as they follow Espio to the kitchen, leaving Vector and Vanilla behind.
Vector: ('Sighs in Relief')
Vanilla: Close one, wasn't it?
Vector: (Turns to See Vanilla With a Teasing Smirk on her Face) .........You knew I was Santa, didn't you?
Vanilla: Yep!~ It was pretty easy to tell in hindsight.
Vector: ('Sighs Heavily') Yeah.....I figured the costume wouldn't fool you that easily
Vanilla: Exactly. (Playful Pouts at her Crocodile) Still!~ You should've told me you were planning to do this from the getgo! Do you have any idea how amazing it would've been if I play the role as Mrs. Claus?
Vector: (Raises his Hands With a Sheepishly Smile) I know, I know! I'm sorry. Didn't mean to leave you out of the dust like that. It was last minute thought. So I just....went through with it on my own, you know?...I....did play the role as Santa pretty well, did I?
Vanilla: (Happily Hugs Her Boyfriend Lovingly) You have. And I couldn't be any more prouder, darling~
Vector: (Happily Hugs Vanilla Back) Thanks, 'hon~......S-So uh.....About the second gift.....Is it still happening? Y-You know! Once the kids are out for the night and everything.
Vanilla: (Giggles Softly) Of course it's still happening, dear ~ (Starts Snuggling onto Vector 's Embrace) You just need to be a little more patient until the time comes, okay?
Vector: Oh alright. (Kiss the Top of Vanilla's Head) Merry Christmas, Vanilly~
Vanilla: Merry Christmas to you too, my sweet, handsome, crocodile~
@rechicken-and-waffles
@keyenuta
@26shann
@cyber-wildcat
@caleb13frede
@chompycroc
@ma-lemons
#sonic series#vanilla the rabbit#cream the rabbit#charmy bee#cheese the chao#espio the chameleon#blaze the cat#silver the hedgehog#vector the crocodile#santa claus#....sort of#sweet family moment#lots and lots of fluff here#humor#vanilla x vector#espio x blaze x silver#cream loves her family so much#vanilla is a low key flirt#christmas month#christmas morning#edited
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Hello and merry Christmas! May I ask for Queen Cookie Reader x Pure Vanilla Cookie? Where pure vanilla is oblivious to Y/ns affections even tho they're really clear! Example..
(Y/N): please become my king!!
Pure Vanilla: sure, as a diplomatic friend with no union and you'll have better trading with vanilla kingdom.
(Y/N): groans in cookie
Cookie Run Kingdom
Character: Pure Vannila Cookie x Royalty!Reader [Gender not specified]
Warning: I believe none; do tell me if there's actually any that I missed!
Note: ASJKAJSKA ANON THIS IS SO CUTE!! In this one I'm making the Reader into another royalty of an Ice Cream Kingdom if you don't mind; I hope this is okay!! And merry Christmas to you and everyone else too!! :DD Also this is a bit lengthy I'm sorry-
You're the sole leader of the Ice Cream Cookie Kingdom.
While you're not nearly as powerful or as influential as the other (seeing that you lack Soul Jam compared to the big five), your Kingdom is still one of the few that have earned the respect of the big five due to your people's capability in surviving through harsh winter every year.
Due to your high rank in Cookie nobility, you often got invited to party and noble diplomacy meetings with other Cookies.
You can say that you might've become head over heels by Pure Vanilla during one of those meetings.
His selflessness and willingness to aid others; especially your Kingdom (albeit he finds it difficult to live in a cold environment).
He's always willing to help and talk to you at any given time. He would ask you about your Ice Cream kingdom back up North and you'd tell tales of the people, all while watching his beautiful two-colored eyes shine in excitement.
It's easy to say you're swooned by his willingness to help your Kingdom and his fondness to your (and he said,) adventurous Kingdom.
But seeing Pure Vanilla's nature in romance, which he lacks of, you know you need to make the first move.
So you start to flirt with him. Subtly, as to not break the friendship you two had all the while looking for signs whether he reciprocate your feelings or not.
Now you might be able to figure how this plan horribly failed to help you make him notice your crush.
You flirted with him, invited him to private dinner, to a walk together, a date, while he always accepts it with a smile and a small blush; it always seems.. Platonic, in his eyes. Hell, perhaps he sees it as diplomatic relations instead of a personal one.
Hollyberry and Golden Cheese laughs at your attempts. They pity you, yes, first because of how dense their friends are and how bold you become in your flirting.
They want to help you, they do, but God is it not funny seeing the all mighty and respected Pure Vanilla being dense to an obvious love interest.
Dark Cacao would actually be willing to help you if he knows how.
He try to also subtly tell Pure Vanilla about your 'pure and personal intent' to him, but of course, while it makes Pure Vanilla flustered, he still thinks of it as you being a respectful leader from your Kingdom.
He gives up after.
Still supportive of you though!
Now your last and final hope is White Lily.
If it's not the other three to knock some senses into Pure Vanilla; White Lily is your answer.
You invited her to a private tea party and just bawls your heart out about how frustrated you are in your attempt to woo the Vanilla Kingdom's king, her best friend.
She.. She honestly pities you.
You're a great and soft soul in her eyes and she's a bit upset that Pure Vanilla is that dense in realizing your attempts.
(Low-key she would blame his fame and overwhelming responsibility as King for his lack of awareness of others' personal interest in him, but she can talk about it with him another day.)
So after she bids farewell to you, she immediately makes a beeline to the Vanilla Kingdom to give her best friend some pep-talk in terms of romance.
You don't know what she did but when a letter with Pure Vanilla sigil on it arrives in your mail, you opened it with absolute eagerness.
Your patience rewarded you; Pure Vanilla had written a letter to you stating that he would like to invite you to for a tea and a walk over his Lily Garden.
Alone.
You don't know whether it's just another platonic meeting or not between you and the King, but there's only one way to find out, right?
#Cookierun kingdom#cookie run kingdom#cookierun x reader#cookie run x reader#cookierun imagines#pure vanilla cookie#cookie run sfw#x reader#reader insert#anon request#pure vanilla cookie x reader
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It’s my birthday!!!! *insert music here*
So this is my story for Samtember since we share a birthday. It’s mostly for me and it’s probably not my best work but I enjoyed writing it. The prompt I used was baking but I’m using birthday too because of reasons. Any mistakes are my own.
WARNING: 18+ readers ONLY! Contains: smut, reader is a sucker for punishment but it’s pretty mild stuff, cursing, let me know if I missed something. You’re responsible for the content you consume.
Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude!
5k word count
Enjoy!
Chocolate Hazelnut
Ugh! This rain! You groan to yourself as you fix your slipping, wet heel and tugging your coat a little tighter around your body. The one day you forget your umbrella. You huddle under an awning and watch the droplets pour out in front of you. You should’ve just stayed a work for a couple hours longer and missed the daily downpour but you were in such a rush to get out of there. That new guy, Rumlow, was constantly breathing down your neck, leering no matter what you wore. And you’d gotten so used to dressing like a little whore for your boss. All your tiny pencil skirts and low cut blouses were promptly moved to the back of the closet when Natasha told you she caught him taking pictures of your ass. Steve didn’t seem to mind the wardrobe switch but he was old fashioned like that. The little peeks of your knees and elbows always got him going more than your thongs and push up bras ever could.
Yet another day of shameless but unsuccessful flirting with your hunky blond beast of a boss. At this point you were so pent up and wound up, you’d get yourself off on his thigh just to get something from him. His thick, muscular, huge thigh. You bite your burgundy painted bottom lip just thinking about it. You’re pretty sure the water on your body is steaming just from how heated your skin is. Too bad your smutty thoughts can’t block the rain.
But nothing will ever happen between you two. He’s too morally honest to mess around with a subordinate and you’re too shy to truly tempt him. So the thoughts stay in the limbo that is your mind under lock and key.
You let out a soft puff of air and focus on the area across the street.
That’s new.
You focus on the business across the street. A bakery?
There’s a grand opening sign in the window beckoning you into the dry warmth. You look down the street both ways before dashing across the road already hoping that they have pretty cupcakes and airy pastries to make your day moderately better.
As soon as you walk in, the sugary smell of vanilla and cinnamon hit your senses like a warm hug.
“Welcome to P&D! How can I help you?” A cheery dark skinned woman greets. Black owned? You felt at home already.
“Hi,” you grin. “I was headed home and I noticed your grand opening sign. And that it’s not raining in here,” you giggle.
“Well, it’s always nice to see a new face! We’ve got coffee if you’re looking to warm up.”
“Oh, yes,” you readily agree. “What else is good? It smells amazing in here.”
“Well, my brother just finished a batch of his famous sweet corn cupcakes and I’d recommend the cream cheese croissants if you want something more savory.”
You light up instantly at both options. “I’ll take both,” you smile. You order the cupcake to go and take the cup of coffee and croissant to a little table near the window. You liked it here already. You write a glowing review on Yelp while you wait out the rain and enjoy your midday treat.
You sigh softly noticing the rain starting to let up just as you empty your coffee cup.
“Need a refill?” A deep sultry voice asks prompting you to look up. Oh! Chocolate skin, high cheek bones, a ruler could only wish to be as straight as that goatee. You bite back a moan just looking at him.
“Yes please,” you whisper. He smirks at you and tops off your cup.
“So, how’d you like it?” He asks pulling the carafe back near his chest and you notice just how big his arms are. And his chest. Oh, and that thick neck. You can imagine your nails raking across it as he fucks you into a coma.
“Huh?” You ask dumbly completely lust drunk from just looking at this god of a man.
He chuckles softly showing off a set of perfect teeth with a cute little gap that you wanted to explore with your tongue but the sound of his laughter pulls you out of your stupor. “I’m sorry. My mind was a little…preoccupied. It was amazing. I wish Starbucks sold these things.”
“Thanks,” he smiles. “I appreciate the compliment. Sam,” he introduces himself holding out a large hand. You take it and your hand feels so tiny in his as you introduce yourself. “You got the sweet corn cupcake, right?” You nod pointing at little pink box on the table. “That’s one of my favorites. I hope you like that one, too. I’ll tell you a secret: the base is cornered mix.”
“Really?” You lift a brow at the man.
He nods. “My sister said I always made cornbread too sweet so I decided to put some frosting on it.”
You blink in realization. “You’re the baker?”
“That I am.”
“Oh wow,” you giggle in awe. “I feel like I have to try the cupcake now and give you my opinion.
“Let me get you a fork,” he grins and walks back behind the counter. You watch the woman who took your order laugh at him and he just shakes his head before telling her to hush.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” the woman frowns before cheerily greeting a customer.
“Here, baby girl,” he smirks handing you a bamboo fork.
“‘Baby girl’?” You question. “Wouldn’t want your girl to hear that.”
“‘My girl’?” He sneers making you gesture to the woman taking down a birthday cake order. “Sarah?” He almost chokes on nothing. “Oh god, no! Not my girl! She’s my sister.”
Sister? “Sister?” You repeat not realizing the words escaped your lips. He chuckles lightly at your response.
“Yup. Little sister. And brains behind this whole operation I’d still just be making cookies for the kids on the block if it wasn’t for her. But between the two of us,” he lowers his voice and leans in just enough to get a whiff of his spicy cologne, “I still make those kids cookies.”
You smile at his admissions. “Well, they are the future,” you agree. You finally fork a piece of the sweet, getting a hefty bit of frosting with it. You audibly moan as the flavors hit your palette. Sweet corn cake and cream cheese frosting.
“That good?” He smirks
“Fucking delicious,” you whimper and suck the fork clean. He bites his bottom lip and gives you suggestive smirk. He opens his mouth and immediately starts to take back whatever he’s going to say. “What?” You smile.
“I have a feeling you’d like something a little richer.”
“Oh really?” You smirk. “You’re so sure of what I like?”
“I have a good sense for these things. I’m thinking chocolate mousse. A hazelnut cream.” Maybe he did have a sense for these things. “What are you doing this weekend?”
You smile, “Nothing.” Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
“Why don’t you come by and taste test some things?”
Oh my god!
It’s been years since someone asked you out. Let alone someone you were actually attracted to.
“I’d like that,” you whisper earning a wide grin from him.
That was how you met. The two of you had been inseparable ever since. He was so easy to get along with. He always took control of situations you were uncomfortable in. He always talked you through your feeling instead letting an argument start.
He was perfect as far as you were concerned.
And tonight was finally the night.
Ever since he promised you that cake, he’d been working diligently at the bakery to perfect it. You were a tough client. You normally avoided dairy. Stepping into his shop was the first time you’d indulged in years. So creating this vegan hazelnut chocolate cake was proving to be an enjoyable challenge for him.
He’d beckon you to the shop after you got off work to ask your opinion on flavors. They were always good but he always felt like something was off. You just trusted his process and let him work his magic.
Then he sent you a text one Thursday that he wanted you over for dinner Saturday night. You smiled at your phone during a meeting and quickly replied with a yes.
“What has you so happy?” Your boss asks when you can’t seem to keep the pep out of your step.
“Just excited for the weekend,” you smile up at the blond who just gives you an amused look.
You arrive at Sam’s place with with a bottle of wine. He told you not to bring anything but you felt odd about showing up empty handed. You hesitated outside of his door. Tonight was the night for sure. ‘Dinner at his place’ was a recipe for things to go down. You’d gotten waxed, showered thoroughly, and spritzed on your favorite perfume all over. You were ready for whatever he had to offer and you were sure it was that.
Sam was such a romantic. Who knew ex-service men could have such soft side. He brought you flowers and opened every door. He fed you pastries over coffee and made sure you made it home safely every night. You weren’t used to this kind of dotting. But every once in a while the military in him came out and left you gushing.
You were just joking around, claiming you’d start going to the bakery on the other side of town if Sam didn’t start stocking more dairy free options when that sharp “young lady,” rang out of his mouth. Your panties were completely ruined and he had no idea what his strong tone was doing to you. “You’re just looking for a punishment, aren’t you?” He asked standing so close you could feel his body heat warming you. You can only bite your bottom lip and hope he follows through. That’s when you had your first make out session and god he was so close to taking you right there over his bakery’s counter. But a customer called to order a cake and completely ruined it.
But tonight!
No bakery. No sister. No customers. Just the two of you. And food!
You grin to yourself. You’re more excited more than anything but worry still gnawed. It probably does for everyone in a fresh relationship that’s about to move on to the next chapter. To watch the progression of innocent memes over text turned into longing and explicit late night messages that left you moaning against your vibrator but in person he was always so respectful.
You were ready for him to get a little rowdy with you.
A sigh escapes your lips as you raise your hand to knock. Squeezing your eyes shut, your fist meets the wooden door. Moments later, that tall dark hunk of chocolate opens the door and you lose your breath. “Hey, baby,” he greets with a warm smile.
“Hi,” you giggle and let him pull you into a kiss. Those lips were unbelievable! They always mold so perfectly to yours with just the right amount of pressure. You can’t help but moan into his mouth and he instinctively wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you that much closer. You hands glide up his chest to his neck, massaging the corded muscles under your finger tips. His hands practically seer your skin as they grip possessively. He doesn’t need to prove that he owns you. He already has you wrapped around his finger.
“Come in,” he finally invites after pulling away. You bite your bottom lip and force yourself not to jump in for more.
You had all night.
You slip off your heels by the door before he helps you shrug off your coat. “Wow,” he exhales softly. “You look gorgeous.”
“This old thing?” you smile shyly glancing down at your black skinny jeans and cropped corset top.
“I love it,” he assures you and guides you further into the home with a hand at your lower back. Heat radiates from his touch and you feel your body flush. “Since you are on a very strict diet and you keep threatening to leave me for other bakers, I made all your favorites: catfish, greens, cornbread, baked mac and cheese. And for dessert my brand new double chocolate hazelnut torte inspired by a beautiful double chocolate hazelnut woman. All vegan pescatarian friendly.”
“Sam,” you giggle and kiss his cheek softly, “you’re trying to kill me!” Your eyes widen at the spread of mouth watering food across his kitchen island.
“I’m trying to win you over,” he corrects and pulls out a chair for you.
“Well, you’re definitely winning,” you mutter making him smirk.
“Sit. I’ll fix you a plate.” You eyes widen at him again. You can’t remember the last time someone made you a plate. Maybe your mom when you were little but recently…
Sam places a heavily laden plate in front of you. God it all looks so delicious.
You go for the mac and cheese first. You haven’t had it in years and it was always one of your favorite sides. It didn’t look like how your auntie made it but you were so deprived of the cheesy goodness, you’d take anything.
You can’t stop the moan that your body emits once the flavors hit your pallet. “Damnit Samuel!” You curse, leveling a glare at him. “I can’t let you go if you’re going to cook like this.”
“That’s the idea,” he grins at you, showing off that little gap, and settles in the seat next to yours. “And I don’t share my recipes. So if you want something,” his amber gaze rakes in your form from top to bottom making your core clench before he’s even touched you, “you’re gonna have to come and get it.”
You would’ve jumped on him right then and there if there wasn’t a table in the way.
Everything was delicious. You don’t think you’ve eaten that much in one sitting in your life.
“You save room for dessert?” Sam smirks picking up your empty plate.
“I can clean up,” you offer, standing to meet his chest.
“Sit, little momma. I got you,” he insists and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. If you could blush, you would as you feel the heat rush to your face.
“But you cooked,” you whisper sheepishly.
“Let me take care of you,” he mutters before meeting your lips once more. “You’re so sweet, girl,” he hums. “Like sugar. I don’t want to take my mouth off of you.” He says it like a threat but you hope he follows through with it. “Now, sit.”
You obey and let him take care of the plates and food before returning with the prettiest cake you’ve ever seen. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful! You can’t cut it!” You protest pulling out your phone to get pictures from every angle.
“Oh, yes I can! I’ve been waiting weeks to massacre this thing,” Sam chuckles and waits for your mini photoshoot to end. “It was a struggle but I’d do it again in a heartbeat for you, sugar.”
You could faint.
You could die happy knowing this man was willing to put everything he knew about baking to the test to accommodate you.
He places a slice of cake and a mug of coffee in front of you before plating some for himself. You watch him, not yet taking a bite until he sits and takes a sip of coffee. “Well?” He asks making you smile and solidify your decision. You push your plate and mug next to his before uncurlIng from your seat to wiggle into his lap. Sam’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. You release a content sigh and finally try this white whale of a cake.
The second the flavors hit your tongue you stop chewing and let out an involuntary squeak. “This has dairy,” you insists.
“It doesn’t.”
“There’s no way this doesn’t have dairy!”
“Well, I’m a miracle worker.”
“I’ve had every vegan cake in the book and they all taste like vegan cake. This has dairy, Sam.”
“This is a completely vegan cake, sugar,” he laughs.
“How?” You breathe and take another bite. Actual heaven. It was moist and creamy and light. It makes you whimper and you press your lips to Sam’s cheek appreciatively. “How did you do this? It’s fucking amazing! Vegan cake is always so dry and dense but this is like eating a cloud! Fuck!” You groan licking your fork clean.
“I told you, I’m not giving you any of my recipes. If you want something, you’ll have to get it from me.” A seductive smirk graces his lips and you kiss him again.
“Thank you. I don’t think any man has ever gone to such lengths for me.”
“Sugar, I’ll make sure you never miss dairy again.”
Your lips meet his once more and you forget all about the cake. His chocolate is all you want right now.
Both of your hands cup his face as you pull him deeper into you. Teeth clash and tongues mingle and before you know it, your thighs are straddling his hips, your covered core twitching to grind against his.
As if he reads your mind, his big hands glide down your body to cup your ass and press your hips tight against his. Your gasp breaks the kiss when you feel just how hard and big he’s gotten for you. You press your forehead to his and your hips make a tentative circle and a soft hiss escapes Sam’s lips.
“I need to be inside of you,” Sam groans and kisses down your jaw to your throat.
“Please,” you whisper as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. A heavy moan escapes your lips as the feelings mingle.
Your panties are soaked, a fresh wave of your essence layers in them with every touch. And there’s an itch there you just can’t scratch as you continue to grind against him. “Please please please,” you continue to whisper as he unhooks your top letting your naked breast fall free.
“I got you, sugar,” Sam promises and his lips wrap around one of your pert nipples.
“Sammy,” you cry, that tight coil in your stomach almost breaking you and he still hasn’t touched anywhere near your core. “I need you in me!” It happens so quickly you almost get dizzy at how fast he lifts you up, gripping the backs of your thighs as he carries you into the depths of his house.
Sam drops you on a plush bed and his lips are back at your neck as he unbuttons your jeans. A quick tug and you’re left in just a lacy thong. You lose your breath as a finger come in contact with your covered core. “You’re soaked, sugar,” Sam whispers against your skin. “Can I help you with that?” You nod, trying to hold back your moans. He presses your panties to the side and a long finger runs the length of your folds. Your hips buck against his hand and he tuts at you. “None of that. I’m taking my time with you and this pretty pussy.” Your whimpers turn into a soft cry when his finger finally pushes into you. “Fuck, you’re soak,” he groans fucking you with his hand.
He soon adds a second finger and begins exploring your most sensitive region. He runs his fingers along your upper walls while his thumb works you pulsing clit and sends you into a frenzy. Your hand flies to your mouth once he finds what he’s looking for. That little spongy spot inside you that he’s going to use to ruin you is now the focus of his attention.
“Hey,” Sam barks noticing your cries have become muffled and lessened. “I wanna hear you. You’ve got to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard and I don’t want to miss a second of it.” You pry your hand from your face and release a string of moans as he continues to play with you trying to keep a tight grip on your release. “Why are you fighting it, sugar? Let go. Make a mess all over my hand. There you go,” he praises once that coil finally snaps leaving your walls fluttering around him and you close to tears.
He leaves you whining under him and it feels like so much. Your legs shake before slamming closed around his arm.
“Oh, no you don’t. Open up,” Sam says spanking your hip lightly. You let out a soft whimper as you fight your instinct to get away and open back up for him. “Good girl.” Your eyes are squeezed shut while you try not to fall completely apart under this man but the last straw hits you when you feel Sam’s hot mouth wrap around your clit.
You actually scream.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“That’s it, sugar,” you hear him mutter into your thigh. “Let it out.” You’ve never been brought back to the edge so quickly in your life. With his tongue circling your clit and his deft fingers fucking into you, you feel that coil spring back to life. Your incoherent pleas fill the air and Sam happily obliges pulling one more earth shattering orgasm out of you before kissing up your stomach. He pauses between your breast, kissing both, before meeting your lips and letting you taste yourself. “I think you’re ready for me,” he deduces while pulling off your destroyed underwear.
You can only nod, barely meeting his gaze, you’re so blitzed out it makes him smirk. He pulls away to finally strip for you.
You can focus on that.
His dark skin is stretched over rock hard muscles that bulge with every movement. “You like what you see, sweet thing?” You nod eagerly. “Can’t even talk,” he jokes and presses his jeans down his hips.
You may not be able to find your voice but you can still gasp. And whimper.
He’s huge.
“Don’t worry, sugar. You’re nice and wet. I’ll slide right in.” You look at his face then back down at the object he intends on putting inside you then back at his face making him laugh. “Calm down. We’ll go slow.”
“Okay,” you whisper finding your voice again. You get up on your knees and beckon him back to the edge of the bed. You place a soft kiss to the middle of his chest, feeling those hard muscles under your lips. You let the kisses get a little sloppier as they trail down to his groin. His dark tip is already leaking and waiting for you and you can’t help but taste.
“Fuck,” Sam groans above you as you wrap your lips around his tip. There’s no way that entire thing will fit in your mouth but you were going to try anyway.
Sam’s big hand wraps around your throat loosely, massaging your jaw as you gather saliva to cover his monster cock. You take him as far as you can before your hand has to take over for what you can’t reach. “So good for me,” Sam mutters pulling your mouth down a little close with each bob of your head. You know what he wants. You practiced this with cucumbers and bananas but those weren’t as thick as eggplants.
You pull off to take a shuttering breath and gather your courage before diving back in with a relaxed throat and hollowed cheeks. “God damn, sugar!” Sam curses as tears spill from your eyes mixing with the saliva running down your chin. You know you’re a mess but you’d tear yourself apart to make him happy. He squeezes your throat slightly as it bulges around his length. He must be able to feel himself through your thin skin. “That’s it, baby girl. Makin’ me feel so good.” You hum softly as you try to remind yourself to breathe through your nose making him curse and pull you off of him. “I’m too close for that. Let me inside.” You nod and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“I had a vasectomy. Do I still need a condom?” He asks as he picks you up from your kneeling position to arrange you more comfortably on the bed.
“Really? No, I guess not,” you smile shyly. It was rare that men took the initiative when it came to birth control.
“Good. I want to feel you.” Your shy smile turns into a full grin as you open yourself for him. He’s true to his word and goes so slow for you, cresting your entrance with his head before rocking his hips into you. You don’t even notice it once he’s fully sheathed in you. You just feel full. Wonderfully full.
“You doing okay, sweet girl?”
“I’m perfect,” you sigh and rock your hips against his.
“That’s my job,” Sam smirks as his thrust meet your small movements. It takes a few tries but he finally hits something in you that immobilizes you. Sam hums in smug delight as he hits it again and you keen, arching against the bed. “When are you going to learn to sit back and let me take care of you?” He asks as he purposefully aims for that spot over and over making you cry for more while attempting to push him away. “Am I going to have to fuck that out of you?” You only writhe under him as your vision starts to go black. “Hey. Find your words. Answer me.”
He holds both your wrists in one of his big hands over your head while fucking you senseless. “Yes!” You cry. You’ll agree to anything as he tears you apart. “Please! Fuck it out of me! I’ll be a good girl!” You promise. You’ll promise him anything.
“Good girls cum when they’re told. Are you gonna cum all over me?”
“Yes, Sammy! Fuck! I’m gonna-“ you voice breaks as you fall apart all over him, your body tensing as he continues to fuck you. His thrusts get sloppy as he chases his own release.
“Fuck!” He roars and you feel his hot essence fill you to the brim. You writhe at feeling. No man has ever cum inside you and you were officially addicted to it.
You fingers claw up to his shoulders for him once his release stops alongs with your spasming core. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here,” Sam promises and pulls you close, turning so you’re both on your sides. “How you feeling? You need anything?”
You cuddle further into, loving the scent and feel of your spent bodies in their shared afterglow. “Wanna stay like this forever,” you mutter tiredly.
Sam only chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Let me clean you up at least.” You shake your head in protest and he gives you a stern look. Your eyes widen as your pussy responds to the possible threat. “You’re a little sucker for punishment, aren’t you?” Sam laughs feeling you clench around his still sheathed dick.
“Maybe,” you whisper.
“Well, I have a whole closet full of toys if you think you’re really ready to be naughty,” he admits making you gasp and attempt to milk his spent cock again. “Next time, sugar,” Sam laughs at how eager your body is. “Right now, I need you to close your eyes and relax for me.” You nod and he slips himself from you, climbing out of the bed only to return shortly to dab a wet cloth over your sensitive folds. You didn’t notice how tender you were until now and his gentle touch leaves you cringing away from him. Sam finally rejoins you and makes you sit up to drink some water. “You good?” He asks once more.
“I want the rest of my cake.” He actually bursts into laughter making you smile.
“Alright, sugar. Let’s go finish that cake.
“I gotta make sure my girl eats,” Sam smile when he delivered lunch and a cupcake to your office for you after you forgot your lunch at home.
“Really, Sammy. You didn’t need to,” you insist but you were happy for the excuse to see him. The two of you were almost inseparable to the point you were considering quitting your job to work at the bakery.
“I needed an excuse to see my girl,” he smirks and presses a kiss to your temple.
“Sam? What are you doing here?” Oh no.
“Stevie,” Sam grins. “I snuck in to bring my girl lunch.” No! Why does your boss know your boyfriend? Why are they so familiar? Why are they hugging?
“Um…” you whisper watching the two in confusion.
“I’m sorry,” Sam apologizes. “Steve and I go way back.”
“We served together,” Steve smiles. “So you must be ‘Sugar’?”
“Um!” You squeak and bury your face in your hands leaving both men to chuckle at your expense.
“Now that you have a date, you should bring her over for dinner. Buck would love to have a fresh mouth to feed.”
“Sure. So he can glare at her all night,” Sam answers sarcastically but it’s a joke that goes completely over your head.
“Besides, I was hoping you’d make vegan peanut butter cake?” The blond says hopefully completely ignoring the dig your boyfriend just gave him.
“Sugar, would you like to go over to your boss’s house for dinner so his deranged husband can stare at you all night and eat peanut butter cake of all things?” Sam asks and you stare at him for a second as if he’d grown a second head. “That’s what I thought-“
“Make it a caramel cake and I’ll go,” you answer cutting off him off.
“Bucky loves caramel!” Steve smiles. “Next weekend?” Sam only groans and drags his hand over his face.
“You just want to play taste tester again but I have other friends, you know,” Sam protests.
“Sure, you do,” Steve grins and starts back toward his office. “I’ll let Buck know! Maybe invite those other friends of yours.”
Sam groans and shakes his head making you smile. “Caramel cake!” You remind him excitedly, clapping your hands.
“You could’ve said no. You’re definitely getting a whooping for that one,” Sam frowns making you clench around nothing. “That’s right, sugar. Prepare that cute little ass. She’s got a date with a crop tonight.”
A soft whimper escapes your lips and your panties flood.
“I have to get back,” he smirks triumphantly.
“No! Wait! Please-“ you start to beg but he cuts you off.
“You think I’m gonna let you cum?” He scoffs and bends down to kiss you. “I think a week of no cumming is a perfect punishment,” he whispers against your lips and the noise you make has all of your coworkers looking in your direction.
You watch you boyfriend leave already eager for tonight’s torture.
Dividers by firefly-graphics
#samtember#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson#sam wilson x female reader#sam wilson x f!reader#sam wilson x y/n#sam wilson x black!reader
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Warm Hug
Mentions & Implications: This is a Bakugou x Fem!Reader fic. This is part of the BNHAREM collab. This month is all about our favorite blasty boi, Bakugou! Also I hope all of this makes sense. I wrote this in many parts over the past few weeks and I'm eternally distracted. So while I normally spell check and grammar check everything, this fic did not receive any of that lol.
No warnings really unless you count language because let’s face it, this is about Bakugou and according to fandom, he curses. But since this a fluff, I kept it to a minimum. Also, I really suck at fluff, so if you actually like this, please let me know. I could use the serotonin and dopamine.
He watched her glide on water and come sliding to a stop, spraying water in the villain’s face. For the first time he was starstruck. How had he not noticed her before? They were in the same class together. They graduated together, right? Surely he’d trained with her at some point. So why was today the first day he actually SAW her?
She felt eyes on her. Cold, calculated, crimson. Her breath hitched and she almost lost her footing if it weren’t for the fact she remembered she was in the middle of apprehending a criminal. After the handoff to police, Y/N wondered if it actually happened. Did he really look at her? Did he finally notice her after all these years? A side glance from behind her shades told her that yes, he was most definitely looking at her.
He was angry at himself for not remembering. Affirmations about you from Kirishima solidified that you were there. You’d always been there. You’d been quiet, while he’d been loud. You’d been slow and steady, while he rushed ahead. He had Mina speak about you. She eagerly complied and caught him up on everything that made you-you.
“Did you really forget about Y/N being in our class? She hung out with everyone!” Mina laughed.
“Not with me. Tell me more about her.” He filled out paperwork as Mina chatted on, while on the opposite side of the building, Kirishima was having the exact same conversation with Y/N.
“It’s disheartening that he’s just now noticing that I exist. But that’s okay. He’s been hyper-focused on trying to be #1. No one should fault him for that.” Y/N played with the hem of her shirt before sighing and picking up the sandwich on her plate.
“He’s still a good guy, Y/N. He’s just never been good at socializing.” Kirishima took a bite of his food and downed it with a gulp of lemonade.
“Oh I know. It’s okay. I’ll just keep watching him from afar. I don’t want to give him a reason to lose his focus.
/*-+-*/
He watched her in the office. She gave him side glances on patrols. They would discreetly help each other while taking villains down. And then one Winter day he asked her to train with him.
"Oh! Oh sure, that sounds like fun!" He and Y/N made their way to a nearby facility and lost themselves in a few hours of teaching how to support the other with their quirks.
/*-+-*/
"I wanna ask her out on a date, but I don't at the same time."
Kirishima looked at his friend with confusion. "You know it's obvious that you two like each other, right? I mean... literally everyone can see it. You two spend almost every waking minute with each other. What's stopping you?"
"I really like her. I don't wanna scare her away." He rose from his place on the couch and frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way to the oversized window.
/*-+-*/
"Can I borrow this? Mine got ripped to shreds when a villain fought me on my way home the other night." Holding up a black sweatshirt, Y/N waved it in front of Mina's face. Mina blinked in thought before breaking out into laughter and nodding. Y/N slipped it over her head, inhaling the faint scent of smoked caramel. “Thanks! I’ll keep it until I can get another one!” With a sly smile, her pink alien friend waved her off and told her not to worry about it.
The cold wind was sharp on her face when she pulled the hood over her head and inhaled. The scent calmed her like a warm hug as she hurried home. Thoughts of a spiky haired man invaded her mind, making her already pink cheeks burn. She loved the man since their first year at UA. He never looked her way, never knew she existed. But she watched him as they faced trials and tribulations as a class, as individuals, and now as heroes. What made him finally look at her? She entered the dark apartment and kicked off her boots in favor of the memory foam bunny slippers, sighing as she shuffled to her room. She fell against the pillows and plushies on her bed and fell asleep still wrapped up in the black sweatshirt, a smile on her face as visions of Bakugou invaded her dreams.
/*-+-*/
“What’s so funny?” Y/N tilted her head, looking at a giggling Mina as they entered the doors of the agency.
“Oh nothing!” Mina sang as she skipped into the room. Bakugou was already stationed at the coffee pot, glaring at it as if willing it to drip faster with the black gold. A side glance stilled his heart for a fleeting moment when he saw Y/N walk in. All smiles and sunshine next to her friend. Then he saw it. Bakugou couldn’t help but notice the familiarity of the pullover. There was a certain tear by the pocket with a singed edge. “Where did you get that sweatshirt?”
She hugged herself in the oversized sweater, “Mina let me have it, why?”
“It’s mine.”
“Oh. … OH!” Shrugging off the garment hastily, she folded it over and offered it to him, “I’m so sorry, Bakugou! I had no idea!” Keeping her eyes down, she heard a soft ‘tch’ and a shadow moving away.
“Hurry up and get changed so we can go train.”
She watched him walk away, and heard stifled laughter behind her. Turning to see Kirishima and Mina huddled together at a corner table, Y/N walked up to her friends and hissed, “What is so funny? He’s clearly upset that I have something that belongs to him!”
“Oh sweet summer child, you really are clueless, aren’t you?” Pinky beamed and grabbed Y/N’s hand. Kirishima shook his head and laughed, “He really likes you!”
Stars lit up in Y/N’s eyes as she turned in time to watch Bakugou turn the corner. “He...likes me too?” Still clutching the pullover in her arms, she quickly followed after him, only to see him enter the locker room. Turning around, she noticed the door to his office was open. She entered his room and left the sweatshirt on his desk before leaving to get ready to train.
/*-+-*/
Hours later, Bakugou walked into his office, narrowing his eyes at the black bundle on the desk. He picked it up to examine it when soft notes of jasmine and vanilla wafted up to his nose. He narrowed his eyes and tucked the shirt under his arm as he took a folder into his other hand and left the agency.
The entryway of his home lit up when he turned the key and opened the door. Kicking off shoes and padding down the hall, he deposited the jumper and folder onto the table before unwinding for the evening. Once evening chores, dinner, and paperwork were all caught up, it was time for bed. He started for his bedroom when he spied the hoodie on the table. Gingerly picking it up he took it to his bedroom and slipped into bed. Cuddling the garment close, he inhaled the vanilla jasmine scent, and all thoughts of Y/N consumed him as he fell asleep.
Bakugou walked into the agency the next morning and took notice of Y/N wearing a new sweatshirt in an ombre gray. Scoffing to himself, he poured himself a cup of coffee. “...look better in black.”
Y/N turned at Bakugou's mumbling, “Hmm? Did you say something?”
“I said you look better in black!” Narrowing his eyes he gave her a severe look and stomped out of the room to his office, slamming the door behind him. He never did see the small smile and blush that crossed her features.
/*-+-*/
Weeks of lighthearted flirting turned into months, and the cool morning of Spring kissed Y/N’s skin as she walked into the lounge room of the agency rubbing her arms for warmth. He was already pouring a cup of coffee when she came in. He cocked an eyebrow and scoffed. “It’s not even cold outside anymore.” He watched her sunshine smile as she stepped near him, only to open the refrigerator door.
“It is to me!” Y/N blushed as she hid her face on the other side of the door, before pulling out a bottle of orange juice and retreated to her office. A bundle in black was draped over her chair. It was the hoodie she had returned to Bakugou months ago. She turned the covering over her arms, the scent of caramel and smoke filling her senses, a smile of giddiness on her face.
“Just tell him already!”
Y/N jumped to find her pink friend leaned against the doorframe. “Mina! I-I can’t do that. He’s got to focus, remember? I don’t want to get in the way of him trying to achieve what he wants the most.”
Mina crossed her arms and shook her head. “You’re so dense sometimes, Y/N. He gave that back to you. He clearly likes you. And you! Your cheeks might as well be permanently pink, and you have hearts in your eyes! Everyone in this building can see how in love you are. I’ve been talking to Kirishima and he agrees with me. We’ve been watching you two flirt for a long time, and it’s agonizing! And you know what? He’s scared of asking you out. He’s afraid to run you off. You’re going to have to be the one to do it. You’re going to have to ask him out.”
Floored by the new information, Y/N sunk into her chair, clutching the hoodie close to her heart. Her mind faltered and unable to form words, she stared dumbly at her best friend. “But- I… He’s scared of running me off?”
/*-+*/
“You just left it in her office? Why didn’t you just give it to her? Everyone in this building already knows you like each other! Be manly and just tell her already, bro!” Kirishima exclaimed, zipping up his duffel bag. “You know what? If you don’t go ask her out, I will. I think she’s pretty cute and I bet we’d have a great time at this new ramen shop that just opened across the street.”
A low growl emanated from the explosion hero, “Don’t you dare.” Still in his hero uniform, Bakugou stormed out of the locker room leaving his best friend to snicker and shake his head.
/*-+-*/
Hearing a familiar stomp down the hall, Mina gleefully smiled before moving aside to allow Bakugou to enter. “I’ll see you later Y/N! I expect a call or text soon!” Mina shut the door as she waved her goodbye, leaving both heroes to stare at each other, their voices trapped from shyness.
Remembering the sweater in her arms, Y/N rose from her chair and slowly walked toward the tall blonde. “You left this for me?”
“Yeah.”
“Are we sharing this hoodie now?”
“I’m letting you borrow it. It’ll keep you warm better than that crappy one you had. It’s going to be cold tonight when we go to the ramen shop across the street.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned away in an attempt to hide the slight blush that formed on his face.
Eyes enlarged with disbelief, Y/N brought the pullover up to cover the astonishment expressed on her face and mumbled, “We? Are you asking me out on a date?” Gazing up at the man before her, she couldn’t help but notice the tips of his ears were turning red. He didn’t look at her when he nodded, but once the bells of her happy voice rang out, he turned and couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
/*-+-*/
*15 YEARS LATER*
“Remember I’m going to be late tonight because Todoroki is holding a study group at his house! Hurry up Harumi, I don’t wanna be late to school because of you!”
“Sorry Raiden! Bye Mom, bye Dad! Love you!”
The door slammed and all was quiet. Y/N stuck her thumbs through the torn holes in the sleeves and started clearing the table when she heard the door of the bedroom shut. Picking up a cup of leftover orange juice, she brought it to her lips when two arms snaked around her waist and she felt a kiss on the back of her head.
“You still have that? It’s worn all to hell. Let me get you a new one.”
Y/N glanced at him mid sip. Smiling into the cup, she finished her drink, her other hand lovingly patted her husband’s arm. Finishing her drink, she wiped her mouth on the sleeve. “A new one? But this is my favorite! I plan on wearing it until it completely falls apart!”
Rolling his eyes, Bakugou peppered Y/N’s face with kisses, ignoring squeals of laughter and the playful pushes against his chest. “Move so I can help you with the dishes before we head to work.”
/*-+-*/
Filing paperwork was the best way to wind down after a long day of apprehending villains. Huddled over her desk Y/N was writing up the last report of the day when the door to her office swung open and her sweaty husband swaggered inside. She narrowed her eyes at his appearance.. Was he wearing a new pullover?
“Just got done going for a run. You ready to go home yet?” Bakugou removed the hoodie, a hint of his waning abs peeking from under his shirt. “Tch. Put those eyes back in your sockets, woman.” Holding out his hand to a giggling Y/N, he pulled her away from the desk and against him for a quick hug before leaving hand-in-hand from the agency.
A sudden breeze blew against the two, causing Y/N to rub her arms. In a side glance, she saw her husband putting on the sweater.
"Sharing is caring, now give me the sweatshirt!"
“Hell no! You chose to not bring your old piece of shit hoodie even though I said it was going to be cold tonight. Suffer the consequences, ya brat.”
“Please sweetheart? I know I should have listened this morning, and you’re right of course. I’m just so cold. You don’t want me to get sick, do you?” Her sugar sweet words twisted around his heart as she gently wrapped her arms around him and tilted her head up and batted her eyes in a most heartfelt manner. Bakugou glared at his wife and paused before grunted his displeasure. With a sigh and an eye roll it was all over. The man scoffed and shook out of the sweatshirt and slipped it over Y/N, pulling the hood over her head.
Face flushed red, the towering blonde pillar looked anywhere but at her. “Dammit woman, why do you do this to me? Next time listen to me and don’t be so stubborn. You’re lucky I love you.”
Enveloped in the warm hug scented of woodsy caramel, she pulled the oversized sleeves over her hands and cupped the tall hero’s cheeks and turned him to face her, “I am the luckiest girl in the world, aren’t I? Thank you for my new hoodie. I love you.”
Lowly growling at the woman before him, Bakugou cocked a brow before breaking out into a smile, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous, woman, tricking me like that. I love you too. Now let’s get home and have some quiet time before those brats get home.” Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against him and felt Y/N’s arms wrap around him. He smiled against her hooded head as she giggled and together they walked, their steps in sync toward home.
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bakugou katsuki#bakugo katsuki#bakugo#bakugou#kastuki#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki fic#bakugou katsuki imagines
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undrunk
Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: When Y/N receives Harry’s wedding invitation with a picture of him that she took on it, she’s sent back to the night where she threw everything important to her away.
Warning(s): a relationship that’s not really a relationship, overall sadness, a flashback, alcohol, language, mistakes, and i didn’t go back and edit it, sorry :/
A/N: Okay I tried something just a bit different with this one so if you have any thoughts, please don’t hesitate to let me know)!! This is my second submission to nat’s ( @harrystylescherry ) song based writing challenge!! This one is based off of Undrunk by Fletcher, so if you haven’t heard that, I recommend giving it a listen either while reading or before!! If you couldn’t tell by the first submission I did, The Weekend and by this one, when I picked these prompts I was feeling just a bit messy, so just know that going into this!!! Also, a quick thank you to fay ( @glowunderthemoon ) for making this amazing visual!!!
Masterlist | Request + Inbox | Patreon
A reminder to reblog the fics that you like before there are no more for you to consume!!
*
“Technically, he wasn’t an ex-boyfriend, but he was an ex-something. And ex-maybe. An ex-almost.” - unknown
There aren’t a lot of things about life that Y/N will openly admit that she regrets. She believes that she should live life to the fullest, and that has landed her in some pretty sticky situations. She doesn’t truly regret them, though. She doesn’t look back on them and wish that things had gone differently, mostly because the experiences that she’s gone through have made her who she is.
There is one thing that she wishes she could go back in time and undo, however. The one single night in her life that made everything take a full one eighty and sent her entire world spiraling.
It’s something that she’s tried her hardest not to think about since it happened, but when she got his stupid wedding invitation in the mail, with a picture of him that she took when they were still “seeing” each other, all the memories came washing back.
The moment she saw his smile brighter than ever, from the day they went to the pumpkin patch and he was so giddy to have something to decorate for Halloween that his dimples were popping and his smile was so big that it was almost contagious. The memory hit her like a truck, and now she’s sitting with her back against the counter, trying her best not to let the tears fall, because the second that they do, she knows that she won’t be able to get them to stop until there are no more tears left for her to cry.
As the seconds pass, she begins to think about how much she fucked everything up, and it’s suddenly like she’s right back to that night.
<i> “Y/N, come on, we’re gonna be late!” Harry yells from the other side of her door. She texted him not even twenty minutes prior telling him to let himself in the door once he got to her place.
“Harry, you just got here!” she responds, looking in the mirror as she applies a layer of mascara. “Plus, I’m almost done, go sit down or something!” She hears him sigh dramatically before trudging off to sit on the couch until she’s done, or at least that’s what she assumes that he’s going to do. Knowing him, he’ll just go stand in the kitchen. She chuckles lightly at the thought, he’s such a weirdo she says to herself as she places the applicator back in the tube of mascara and screws it shut.
Standing, she takes a look at her outfit. The black material of the dress falls to her mid-thigh. The form hugs her curves nicely and the cut of the top shows off just the right amount of cleavage. She smiles at her reflection before slipping on a pair of silver heels and grabbing her purse, slipping her ID and her phone inside.
She saunters over to the door, and right before she twists the knob, she takes a deep breath. Tonight, she’s going to try to finally take things to the next level with Harry, and she needs to summon all of her courage to try that. They’ve been sleeping together for months, but Harry refuses to acknowledge that they’re anything more than friends. It’s tiring, and Y/N really needs to know if he’s worth holding onto or if she needs to let go and find someone else that will give her more than a fuck.
She twists the handle and swings the door open before making her way to him. Like she assumed, he’s sat on the couch, legs spread in a way that would look obnoxious if any other man were doing it. She doesn’t hesitate to stand between his legs and look down at him. He meets her gaze for just a moment before letting his eyes travel down her body. His tongue pokes out, running across his bottom lip. Her eyes follow the movement, watching as the skin becomes wet with his spit. It takes everything in her to will her mind away from other things that make his lips shine like that.
She opens her mouth to ask how she looks, but he circles his hand around her wrist and lightly tugs her down so that she’s sitting on one of his thighs with her side pressed against his chest. He dips his head to place a kiss to her lips, molding them together as he breathes in the scent of her vanilla perfume that she frequents whenever she wants to smell good but not have it be too overwhelming. He smears his lips across hers, fitting her bottom one between his two as he pulls her closer and deepens the kiss just a bit.
When she whines into the kiss, he pulls away from her mouth, looking at her with hooded eyes. “You look absolutely fucking gorgeous,” he gushes, squeezing her closer to his body. “My girl is so pretty, I can’t even believe it.” Y/N’s cheeks heat up at him calling her ‘his girl’ and there’s nothing more that she wants than to really be his.
Clearing her throat, she stands up as she pushes all thoughts out of her head. She doesn’t want to work herself up too early in the evening and then psyche herself out before she can even get the full courage that she needs to bring up the idea with him. She reaches for his hand and he gladly lets her take it in his own, squeezing it lightly before she pulls him up off the couch and over to the door.
“Come on, Harry,” she mocks his tone from when he yelled through the door earlier, “we’re going to be late!” He chuckles lightly, shaking his head as he willingly follows behind her.
He pulls his keys from his pocket and clicks the button to unlock his car. Once he hears the click of the doors, he pulls the passenger side open and ushers her inside the vehicle. After she’s safely inside, he shuts the door and walks around the car, slipping in himself before starting the car.
“Are you not drinking tonight?” Y/N asks, finding it just a bit peculiar that he’s driving to a club when he hasn’t done so… ever. He always has someone else drive him because he always gets wasted when he goes out.
“Nope,” he states, shaking his head. “I want to remember tonight.”
The words have butterflies erupting in her stomach, but they also have it twisting into knots. There’s an unknown about why he wants to remember tonight. Is there something that he plans on doing that is too good for him to forget? Or does he want to end things and doesn’t want to forget to do so?
She inhales shakily, pushing the thoughts from her mind as she sees the club come into view. Harry parks and opens her door for her, taking her hand and leading her into the building.
Once they’re inside, he drops her hand and speaks directly into her ear so that she can hear him over the music, his breath making her skin prickle. “I’m gonna go get us drinks, yeah? Go find somewhere to sit,” he pauses for a few seconds, placing a hand on her waist. “Or go dance, know how much you love to do that.” She can feel his smirk against her skin, and it makes her melt as she stands there.
When he pulls away, she makes her way towards a table near the corner, knowing that Harry will want a bit of solitude when they decide to just sit down and have a drink or two together. She takes a seat and pulls out her phone, wanting to look busy so that nobody would come up to her and try to talk. The only person that she wants to talk to right now is Harry.
A few minutes pass and she begins to grow just a bit bored. She knows that he had to go order them drinks, but it normally doesn’t take this long.
When she looks up, scanning the room to find him, she sees something that makes her heart fall and her stomach clench in the worst way. He’s leaning into a tall blonde, his hand on her lower back to hold her closer to him just like he does with Y/N. The sight makes her sick, but what makes it even worse is the way that he laughs and his eyes light up more than they ever have when looking at Y/N, her heart cracks.
Her first instinct is to go over to him and interrupt, but she doesn’t have any right to do so. He’s not hers. As much as she wants him to be, he’s not, and that’s something that she has to live with.
So, instead of going up to them, she puts her phone back into her purse and goes onto the dance floor, finding someone to dance with and not wasting any time in molding their lips together. It feels wrong, kissing someone that isn’t Harry, but he doesn’t want her, so she’ll just have to do everything in her power to forget about him, even if it’s just for the night.
After a while of dancing and drinking things that she probably, definitely shouldn’t be drinking, she meets his eyes across the room and the look on his face makes her realize that kissing strangers while he was flirting with someone else probably wasn’t the best idea.
He just shakes his head before walking out. His head is hung low, and if it wasn’t for the low lighting that she swore had to be playing tricks on her, she would have thought she saw tears streaming down his face.
After she got home that night, she tried to text him, but all she got was a green message instead of a blue one. He blocked her.
All she had left of him were the memories that he had left and one single text message that she had received from him before he blocked her.
Thanks for letting me know that you didn’t want what I did, it’s what I needed to let go.
When she falls asleep that night, there are tears streaming down her face and her pillow is soaked beneath her.
Oh, how she wishes she could go back and erase every time she’s ever gotten drunk. That would solve a lot of things. If she hadn’t ever gotten drunk around Harry, they never would have started sleeping together. Which means that she never would have fallen in love with him, she never would have gotten jealous of him flirting with someone, and she definitely wouldn’t have kissed the first person that she laid eyes on to get back at him.
If she could just get undrunk one time, she wouldn’t be looking down at the wedding invitation that’s now stained with tears, wishing that it was her standing next to him in the engagement photos.
*
#undrunk#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles writing
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Rumors | Tsukishima Kei
pairing: tsukishima x reader (sort of)
synopsis: several rumors have been spreading throughout the school about your relationship with tsukishima but they’re nothing more than that, rumors. You know he loves you.
genre: angst (I guess, I’ve never done this before)
warnings: none?
It started with rumors, as everything always does. You’d walked past the hallways littered with whispers of your relationship with Tsukishima. You would catch their glimpses filled with pity and shame for you. At first you paid them no mind, “they’re just jealous”, you reasoned. Tsukishima, regardless of his personality, was a popular guy among his peers.
A few weeks go by without meeting with Tsukishima once. “Things came up” he explained, planned dates had to be rescheduled or canceled all together. His frequent messaging turned into brief conversations of meaningless things as if you guys hadn’t been dating for over a year now. You could feel him drifting further away from you, but you knew you were overreacting or at least you hoped.
He had no time to do anything the rumors said, dating other people? No, he is preoccupied with studying and volleyball. Flirting with other people? No, he has a nasty mouth that not even you could escape. Sleeping with other people? No, he hadn’t even done it with you. But as much as you tried to give his suspicious actions an excuse, there was only so much you could do with all the evidence piling up.
“You can’t come over tonight, y/n. I have exams I have to study for.” His message was not a surprise to you. This had been going on for weeks, if not months already, but now you were growing tired of his excuses. The first time you brought up the rumors he scoffed, saying he only had eyes for you. That you were dumb if you believed them. He even told you he loved you.
It didn’t seem that way anymore.
“So, are you rescheduling or canceling this time?” Was all you could manage to reply. “Rescheduling. What’s wrong? What’s with the attitude?” A laugh escaped your lips as you read his next message. Was he really asking what was wrong? Was he stupid or playing dumb? You stared at the screen for while but didn’t bother replying, it would be a waste of time and most certainly lead to another fight. The fourth one that week.
It was almost as if he was giving you a reason to leave him.
Your little sister wobbled into your room, extending her arms out to you with a pleading face that said “carry me!”. You sat her on you lap as you stared at yourself in the mirror. All this makeup and for nothing. You don’t even know why you made such an effort for him when your gut was telling you, practically screaming at you, that he was going to cancel. Did you ever listen to yourself?
No.
“Nee-chan looks pretty. I want my lips to shine too.” The tiny fingers graced your lips as your little sister started padding the gloss onto hers. The action pulled you out of your thoughts to giggle at her. Your laughter, even if it was short-lived, was something you hadn’t heard in a while it felt almost foreign. With a sigh, you embraced the small child on your arms before placing her down, “Onee-chan is going to get some air. She’ll be back later tonight.”
You weren’t planning on it but you found yourself walking to Tsukishima’s house. Your legs just missed it’s old routine of walking home with Tsuki, fingers intertwined and shoulders brushing against each other as you share earphones. You missed the walks after school or volleyball practice just to get to his house and melt into one another. You missed the smell of his house, his bed, his scent and most of all him. You missed your boyfriend. And whether he liked it or not, he was going to give you an explanation for making you worry so much.
You were about to knock when a mixture of laughters came from inside the house. Bushes and trees were a bit far away but your legs quickly carried you towards them in order to hide behind them. With a shaky breath, you peeked from the bushes to see the door open and your heart sank. You felt like throwing up. You wanted to look away. You wanted to run away yet you stood frozen.
Even your breath had stop momentarily as you watched a beautiful, slender woman come out from inside the house followed by your boyfriend. They were smiling, doting on one another, clinging to each other’s their pinkies interlocked not wanting to let go of each other. Panic begin to settle in and as much as you didn’t want to keep looking, you did. Questions just crashed within your mind one after the other: Who was she? Why was she there? When did she come into his life? Why was her hair a mess? Why did she look at him with lustful eyes? Why did she clig to him? Why did she kiss him goodbye..?
It was when she left that you were finally able to breath again.
“I guess the rumors were true. I was just stupid enough to see it.” You weren’t stupid though you were just in love. In that moment you felt numb, you didn’t cry or scream, you didn’t even feel anger towards him. It was as if your mind took control of your body and your consciousness was watching from behind the curtains. You didn’t realize that in your moment of haze you had walked towards his front door and knocked waiting to see if he would answer.
The door opened. He looked beautiful. His hair was disheveled and a pink tint was spread across his cheeks, he even had the smile you had almost forgotten. “Y/N?” It was like he called out unintentionally but hearing your name come out of his mouth, forced you back into reality. You looked at him giving no hints at what you had just witnessed. “What.. what are you doing here? I told you we couldn’t watch the movie today. It’s late and I’m tired.” He admitted with a sigh.
“Really? Tired of what?” Your tone was harsher than expected but Tuskishima didn’t seem to mind. He figured you were probably bothered at the fact that he had canceled your plans once again. “Studying, dummy.” You nodded, biting your cheek to stop the tears from welling up, “Oh, I thought it had something to do with the girl that just came out of your house. I guess I was wrong.”
You laughed but tears were now streaming down your face. He gulped, only watching as you cried in front of him. Your sobs grew louder as you gasped for air, everything seemed to hit you all at once, the lies, the rumors, the memories, even if you wanted to stop crying, tears wouldn’t stop flowing out of you. “I love you so so much Kei.” It seemed like it was hitting him too, he pulled you from your shoulders into his chest and wrapped his firm arms around you.
You had missed him so much. The smell of vanilla and sweat on his shirt. The feeling of his body pressed against yours. The warmth his body gave you. Him. Had he missed you though? You doubted and regretted for savoring this moment with him. You gripped his grey shirt tightly, burying your face deeper into his chest. It was now cover in tears and snob but he didn’t push away; instead, he leaned down to whisper something in your ear, “I love you, y/n.”
It sounded sincere. “I’m sorry for pulling you away. I am sorry you are in pain and have been in pain because of me. I love you. I’m sorry for hurting you but please stop crying. I don’t like seeing you cry.” Then again, he had said he loved you a million times before yet he had cheated on you. Still, you craved his loved and he still gave you butterflies every time you looked at him. Your body was rising in heat as he confessed his love for you and you hated yourself for reacting in such a way.
When your sobs became rapid shallow breathing, he help guide you through the process of calming down. “Inhale four seconds, exhale four seconds. There you go. You got it” he planted a kiss on your forehead as you followed his instructions. Your body heat turned into hatred by how unbothered he was by the whole situation. Was he not scared of losing you too? Did he think he wasn’t going to lose you? Was your year with him just been him passing the time? We’re all those things he said to you a lie?
You pulled away from his arms after a while and he cautiously wiped away your tears with his thumb. Before giving him a chance to speak, you spoke up, “I love you Kei,” he smiled at you, reaching for your hands that were so desperately calling out for him, “but you hurt me.” You could see his once calm demeanor falter at the sound of your voice, it was low yet imbued with pain. He had broken every part of you. You weren’t sure how long it would take for you recover, if ever. You weren’t even sure if he cared if you did.
“I know what I did was wrong and I regret it but—“ no, you weren’t going to let him finish because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to let him go. You knew he could twist his words to please you and you couldn’t let that happen. “Maybe one day I’ll let you explain why you did what you did but for now just delete my number.” You wanted an explanation because you wanted to be able to forgive him, but the pain was too much to bare right now.
“A sorry won’t fix anything anyways.. and as much as I want to ask what I did wrong, what I did to deserve this,” your voice grew weaker, breaking as you tried to convey your thoughts, “I want to know when you stopped loving me, but I won’t ask because I’m too scared to know the answer. I still love you.” You knew you will continue to love him, “but Kei Tsukishima you’re one hell of a poison that I need an antidote for. So, this is goodbye.”
You weren’t proud that you managed to set yourself free from him. He was all that you wanted and now you were losing him. If he had called out to you, you would’ve gotten back with him. You knew it. But he didn’t.
Tsukishima choke on his words. The realization of what he had lost would hit him days later. He would never admit it but he wanted to go after you and scream to wait and stay with him. You weren’t to blame, if anything you were too good for him, he was just scared that you’ll realize he was not what you wanted, he didn’t want to be in your position, so he decided to hurt you first. A regret he’ll live with for the rest of his life because seeing you in pain broke him too.
#tsukishima scenarios#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x you#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima angst#hq angst
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