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robolvrr · 5 months ago

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I love love looove the way you write!! I'm 22- and i wanted to ask about your Headcanons for a bi bumblebee.

He's always been proud of looking good, so maaaybe you could give him an opportunity to show off? A car show, or maybe a car wash could be fun.

hot motor oil ☆∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

hahaaa fffkxzkdk. bet! you speaking my language, anon.

bumblebee x gn! human headcanons.

warnings: suggestive/nsfw. exhibitionism, praise, voyeurism.

bumblebee when on earth at his prime is cocky, playful and a thrill-seeker.

while the inability to vocalize is a sore subject, he's never been insecure about his appearance. he's considered very attractive wherever he goes, cybertron and otherwise.

much to optimus's disapproval, he takes the time to find the newest speedsters to scan regularly throughout the decades.

while he's particular with what automobiles he claims, there's a clear taste for flashy, fast horsepower.

he adores weaving between traffic, secret drag races, because the racers and humans react. it's either anger, frustration, awe or jealousy. makes his chassis get all warm knowing that just being in his alt-modes gains attention without applying much effort.

the thing is though - he does. constant buffing. avoids mud like the plague and never gets insects stuck in his grills. his bumper never gets scuffed and he might have found a car wash or two with easy on the optic workers who gladly accept fat tips and rub between his panels and exterior with feather light touches.

they don't look too much through his tinted windshield or question the pink fluids collecting near the drain when he zips off.

when he meets you, he's almost shaking when he learns of your hobbies.

a mechanic? and you spend hours in your garage just.. fixing up cars?

his spark stutters one day relaxing in your detached shed, as you mumble under your breath with your ungloved fingers coated in oil with the popped hood of an '99 ferrari, tongue licking sweat off your top lip so slow he has to lock his tires not to accidently skid the concrete.

"mmm, there ya go. shiny and just as gorgeous. bet i could go on a real fast ride with you now, huh?"

"kkkrrtt! my chick do stuff that your chick wish she could — chhhtk — krrrz!"

"oh my god, bee, please — hey! do not leak in my garage baby."

he has never made his attraction for you quiet.

it's difficult to course through radio signals in regular conversation but you always look so charmed when he chirps out song lyrics you know, so chatting you up during repair sessions is frequent.

once his leash has been loosened some and you're teetering ripping back the veil of platonic and more, you let him know the other aspect of your interests.

he stares at the shiny poster in your hands, watching you animatedly explain just what a "muscle car show" was. his brow ridge raises. okaay, you got his attention.

while you didn't expect to win (which he rolled his optics to because really, this is him you're talking about), it'd be fun. it would only last a few hours. all he has to do is sit still and look pretty.

look still and look. pretty. his flaps flutter, proud. damn straight he's pretty.

when you roll him to the flat plain one saturday afternoon, his wheels look brand-new and his hood has signature, thick black accents.

even has that "new smell" to him, rubber flawless and paint with that glittering coat.

fancy little bastard managed to get some butterfly doors. you coo between his engine revving he's being such a little show-off.

what he didn't expect was the constant attention to be so distracting. it's warm and there's an internal message to start blasting his cooling fans because his temperature is starting to up a tick.

there's so, so many cars. yet he's fully in the center, which means at times he feels like he's being surrounded.

bumblebee takes a gander while he plays some old rock softly to cover the fizzle of his motor, eyeing the classics and more modern bodystyle frames.

almost beeps when you bend down to show a man his chrome mufflers. your hands run along his rims and he's starting to feel.. funny.

"damn. how'd you get such a sexy car?"

"ahh... magician never shares their tricks. wanna feel the inside?"

cue the radio shorting out, because suddenly his doors are unfolding and men and women alike start to crowd him, cooing and taking pictures.

the sensory overload from curious palms smoothing over his dash? you lean into him to adjust his mirror and cheekily grab the clutch. his engine roars.

"you know. i never thought i'd say i fuck a sports car but jesus, you've outdone yourself... oh, cmon, how much you selling for?"

"my bumblebee? girl, i ain't ever putting him up for sale. he's my sweet stallion."

his processor is humming. angles his frontal mirrors as you keep teasing him, even going as far to spank his bumper slightly before bragging about the genuine leather interiors and letting his admirers lounge inside, encouraging them to ask questions.

exhaust slips from pipes as he tries not to let the electricity cloak his frame suffocate when you press a silky smooch on his window. the kiss-mark looks like it's been left behind on foggy, shower glass.

is it a shocker you win? nope. easiest $5K of your life.

there's a final round where you get to drive him around a lap so motor-enthusiasts can gander a final time. he's almost thankful the announcements echo because you're leaned over the wheel, chest pressed up near the horn.

"you like that? you did so fucking good."

"tcccthtt -- whoa, baby you're killin' me! "

"aww, don't get shy. there's a warehouse four miles west from here. take us there. i wanna thank you."

his speedometer breaks when he drifts right out and down the highway, wind zipping back your hair as your laugh cackles out ajar windows.

pure nsfw.

the golden-black charger rumbles down the highway. it's minimal interference, though the turn signal never flashes and it's difficult to see any drivers or passengers inside.

pebbles pluck up and ding the exterior, which is such a shame, because it's such a pretty car!

however, that isn't on anyone's mind at the moment.

bumblebee tries not to hydroplane, because it'd be stupid dangerous and it's not even raining. but you're a tsunami, a distraction of disastrous proportions. your hand is shoved down your shorts and you trail down your tummy before the straps of your underwear twist.

it's a wildly salacious position. your right leg is hiked up on his - your - dash. your left hand rubs vigorously while the right squeezes his clutch and rubs the silver button positioned at its knob.

his engine snarls. his radio glitches and you can hear the rhythmic churn of metal buzzing and gurgles that suggests he's trying to speak.

"yeah? yeah? such a pretty speedster, bee. f-fuck. you're so hot. you're the best."

"breeep!"

"awww, haha -- nnf, did you just honk?!"

the opening to a dilapidated hanger lingers on the horizon. he bulldozed through gravel and rolls up his windows fully to avoid any flying in your face. your hair is messy and both of your feelings are floundering, the beat of your heart loud in your ears.

he can't erase any of this. those wet cries have his intake salivating with lubricant.

there's a wet spot on the driver's seat and he's almost mad that he can't lick it off.

transforming mid-kneel, you're gently shoved out and his servos snatch at you like a toddler with a toy. his bright, blue gaze edged needy when he's pawing off your clothes and manhandling you to get up on his lap.

his pedes scratch against the concrete for purchase. he's whipped. he's so fragging on edge. all the compliments, all the comments, all the touching - he's gonna overload.

let's just say you two aren't getting back to base for the night. especially not with that wry grin on your lips, before you rub down his body like melted rubber.

robolvrr 2024.

#first contact au #bumblebee x reader #bumblebee #maccadam #transformers #transformers idw #transformers bumblebee #/nsft #/nsfw #valveplug #WHOOO. do i think cars are sexy?#headcanons

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xsleepinggoodx · 1 year ago

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Mikey x reader short drabble!

timeskip: 19 year old Mikey. Yknow that one Mikey before manila? The one with the short blond hair? That one!🥰

Slight NSFW warning!

………………………………………………………………………………

You and Mikey were in the most heated make out sessions you ever been in. In his garage room, in his bed, on his lap, and door locked. The tension was real. His shirt was off and his veiny arms were around your waist, squeezing every so often. Your hand cupping his cheeks as you both fought for dominance—he wins every time though.

You letting out whimpers every so often as unravels you. Your hips grinding from time to time. You guys done it before, but not really often. You’re busy with college as he is he. He spends time hanging out with Toman, you’re there too ofc, but every so often, you two share intimate stares. He’s drilling his eyes on you when you’re laughing with Baji or Mitsuya. You’re admiring him as he tells a funny story. Again, the tension is there but you guys simply didn’t have alone time together, especially not sexually.

Now you guys finally were able to hang out, alone. Telling him stories from your college as he listens, replying with similar stories, him telling you crazy moments from his fights with Toman. Playing games with him, reading together. But it just got so heated, his loving gaze on you as you read the book and when you finally looked at him back, he pounced.

That’s how it led you guys here, tongues wrapping around each other as saliva drips down your lips. When you final let go for air, panting heavily with your lovesick eyes, he smiles lovingly as he catches his own breath.

“You said you had a bad day?” You asked, tracing his collarbone.

“I already told you about it, I really don’t wanna think about it.” He pouts, already rolling his eyes.

He told you about how annoying this one gang was, the leader trashed his bike terribly. Now it was in Draken’s motor shop in repair, he couldn’t ride it for a week.

“How bout I help you relieve some stress?” You asked innocently. “You always help me…I wanna make you feel good..” you said, your eyes resting. He

He looked confused but then it finally clicked.

“Baby, you don’t have to-“ he started before he got interrupted.

“But I want to, I wanna make you feel good..please~?” You stared at him, with your begging eyes. Oh your eyes, only if you knew how much he adored and admired you.

He nodded slowly. “Please baby, I need you.”

You giggled as you got on top of him, your hips sitting on his. His head looking up at you as you captured his lips again, before trailing your soft lips down his chin, neck, finally his chest. You sat up and clutched the hem of your shirt.

“Do you want me to take it off?” You said, teasingly.

“You really don’t have to.” He said hesitantly.

“Mikey~~” you teased as you giggled.

“Yes please” he begged shamefully. You knew Mikey was good with his words, getting him to beg was always tough, but you knew how to melt him. That’s why he loved you so much, you always challenged him. Which is not something he received often. You smiled as you chucked taking your shirt off, revealing your baby pink bra. The bra stap perfectly falling off your left shoulder.

You smiled as he admired your face, then his eyes traveled down, admiring your goddess-like body. He always knew he hit the jackpot, but now it’s official. He couldn’t help himself as he rose up and kissed you, trailing down your chin, then to your neck. Leaving hickies behind. You let out a soft hum as he continues, nipping your sweet spot, his hands where they were once on your waist were now softly cupping your breast.

He grinds his hips on yours, earning whimpers from you.

“Fuck, I love you so much, baby” he said, his voice muffled from his attacks on your cleavage. You softly scratched your fingers through his messy golden hair. Rewarding yourself with his kisses.

“I l-love you too~” you said. Love honeyed your voice. You were definitely down bad for him. The best part is that so was he….

…………………………………………………………………………….

Enjoy everyone, sorry I didn’t go all the way. I’m not confident in my NSFW writing skills🫣

#tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers mikey #manjiro sano #Mikey x reader best ship

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ultravi0lence14 · 2 months ago

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IN THE BEGINNING. . .

DEAN WINCHESTER X DEMON!READER

SUMMARY: how dean and little monster found their blended little family

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

sitting in the living room of his barn style home, watching as his little monster riled all of their children up for a movie night, dean wondered how he got here.

his life wasn’t anything good before this. hunting, dying 24/7, trauma that could last someone a lifetime. yet somehow, he ended up with something good; with someone like you.

you loved him unconditionally, stayed with him through everything. every demon attack, every life altering experience, you were there, and dean couldn’t think of a better person to spend the rest of his life with.

the children were just an added on bonus that dean knew he wouldn’t be able to live without. staring at each of them, he reminisced on each child’s story, on how each one of them came to be in their little family.

LINCOLN

the air was chilly in maine, a breezy october day that had you bundled up to the high heavens. dean was working at the garage, and the farm house the two of you just moved into needed some food.

your towns local grocery store wasn’t too packed, and you found yourself being in and out in less than an hour. you and dean had plans for a movie night tonight, and you were anticipating your next rewatch of coraline.

though, confusion splintered into your bones as you walked closer to the beat up dodge caravan that dean had repaired for you. there was a boy by the driver side door, no older than 10, with dark brown hair almost the shade of ebony wiggling a clothes hanger into the lock.

steps faltering, you watched as the boy tried to break into your car. the sight of him made alarm bells ring in your head. you didn’t know if it was the obvious disarray he was in or the fact that he seemed to be alone, but you found yourself approaching him with nothing but calm in your veins.

“hello.” you called out, watching as the boy stilled and slowly turned his head to you. the fear in his eyes was palpable, and you couldn’t blame him. dean had told you countless times that you had a scary resting face, and it wasn’t just because you were part demon. “do you need help getting into my car?”

your voice came out in a joking lilt, yet the boy in front of you still shook with worry as you walked closer. you were going to call the cops on him, he just knew it, and he couldn’t be sent back to that house he was supposed to call home, not with his moms new boyfriend lurking around.

dropping the hanger at the gravel by his feet, the timid boy lifted his hands up, protecting himself in a feeble attempt that made your supposed black heart crumble with sadness. “i’m sorry, really i am. please don’t call the cops, i can’t go back home.”

his words have your eyebrows lifting in confusion, and your gut feeling gets worse and worse as his words settle in your bones. “i won’t, i’m just curious as to where your parents are?” your voice is soft, and the boy finds himself sagging slightly at the nice tone of voice you’re using.

“home.” he breathed out, wringing his fingers together uncomfortably as he stares at his feet. “i don’t want to go back there though.” his voice is a whisper, and you find your heart breaking even more somehow.

“why don’t you want to go home?” you are now a good couple of feet away from the boy, seeing the freckles that dust his cheeks and the hazel in his eyes that matches dean’s. when he shrugs his shoulders in response, you double down on your question. “do you like being at home.”

shivering, he shakes his head, whispering something that you barley catch. but you hear it, and it breaks your heart when the words, “mom’s boyfriend dave isn’t nice,” registers in your head.

“what’s your name?” you finally decide to ask, ignoring his whispered statement for the time being.

“lincoln.” he replies sheepishly, finally staring up at you with unshed tears in his eyes. the sadness he seems to be carrying breaks your heart, and you want to help him so badly.

“how old are you, lincoln?”

“ten.”

and god, if your heart didn’t break right there and then.

“well,” you reply, moving to unlock the car and placing your grocery bags in the backseat. “when was the last time you ate, lincoln?”

the shock on his face is palpable, yet he renders in his emotions and answers you in a soft tone of voice. “last wednesday.”

that was almost a week and a half ago, and you finally understands what it means to have your heart splinter in your chest. this boy ran away from a bad home, and you would be damned if you left him in this parking lot.

“let me take you back to my house then.” you answered with a smile, closing the back door and walking closer to lincoln to get to the drivers seat. “my dean makes amazing peanut butter sandwich’s, and you seem like you need one.”

lincoln was always taught stranger danger. yet, as this scary yet smiley woman encouraged him to come home with her, he didn’t seem to be thinking about stranger safety all that much. he was hungry, tired, and didn’t want to go home. so with a shrug, he rounded the car and hopped into the passenger seat, driving back to a beautiful farm house where he would meet dean winchester and his amazing peanut butter sandwich’s.

THATCHER AND SCARLETT

three months into having lincoln stay with her and dean, little monster runs into the inhabitants of the haunted house on top of their small towns hill.

living by the water their whole life, thatcher and scarlett surprisingly never learned how to swim. at nine years old, the set of twins didn’t know how to do many mundane things actually. ride a bike, tie a proper shoelace; it was all unknown knowledge to them.

that’s the price of having no mother and an abusive, alcoholic father apparently.

their mother was a fighter the entire time she was pregnant with thatcher and scarlett, though her fight gave out when she gave birth to the two healthy twins and passed away not even thirty minutes later.

it wasn’t their fault. how could it be? they were only newborns, and it wasn’t in their control of what happened to their mother after she gave birth to them.

but their father didn’t understand that.

all he saw was that his wife was dead, and it was thatcher and scarlett’s fault. why was it fair that they were here and she wasn’t? none of it was fair, and he felt his anger fester and fester towards the twins more and more.

the abuse was happening long before you crossed their paths, yet you somehow managed to stumble across a particularly bad day when you decided to go on a walk that beautiful january evening.

dean was at home cooking dinner with link, and you decided to take in the cool evening before dumps of snow hit your small town. it was such a peaceful night, soothing and relaxing. that was until you heard the piercing scream come from your right.

whipping in the direction of the noise, you watched in horror as a small frail girl ran down the large hill, light blonde hair blowing behind her in the wind as fat tears fell from her ice blue eyes and streaked down her pale cheeks.

it was a haunting sight, and when she bumped into your frame, weeping loud enough for god to hear her, you knew that something terrible was going on.

“hey, hey, it’s okay. shh you’re going to be okay.” your one arm went around her small shoulders, the other moving to cup the back of her head and bring her to your chest. “what’s wrong, sweetheart? what’s happening?”

she was so inconsolable, so distraught, that nothing but choked sobs were her response to your question. it wasn’t until she wailed words in between her cries, clutching onto your dark shirt with her hands and staring up at you with those beautiful, sad blue eyes that you understood the situation.

“my brother!” she cried, clinging onto you tightly. “daddy’s going to kill him! he’s going to kill thatcher!”

your body went rigid at her words, holding onto her shoulders tightly as you looked back down at her. “what do you mean sweetheart? what’s your dad doing to your brother?”

“thatch forgot to put the dishes away,” the little girl hiccuped, gripping onto your wrists. “he forgot to put the silly dishes away and when dad came home we went insane! he’s hurting him so bad, there’s blood everywhere!”

moving into action immediately you grabbed the girls hand and instructed her to show you where your daddy was hurting thatcher. you didn’t want her to go back into that house, but you needed to find this little boy and save him quickly.

the sight when you walked into the front door was ghastly. there, in the main hall, was a brooding man. he was on the floor, straddling something with his fists flying rapidly. it took you a second to realize that the flying fists were directed towards a lanky boy beneath the bigger man’s body.

he looked exactly like his sister, and you deduced that they were twins. his light blonde hair had streaks of blood in it, pale face dusted with scraps and cuts as his equally blue eyes poured tears and tears. his screams and pleads were ear piercing, and you almost broke down sobbing if it wasn’t for the rage in your body.

moving instantly, you gripped the back of the man’s shirt and flung him across the room. he landed against a wall with a thud, slumping down as you instantly ran to the boys aid.

“shh it’s okay, i won’t hurt you.” the boy was as inconsolable as his sister, and you gingerly picked him up and attempted to carry his tall and skinny body towards his sister. “you two go wait outside, i’ll deal with your dad.”

instantly, the boy grabbed his sisters hand, mumbling a, “c’mon scarlett,” between sniffles as you saw them run out the door and towards the hill. when you knew that they were out of sight, red flanked your senses and you stormed over to the groaning man at the floor.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” your voice came out in a grumble, grabbing the man’s collar and haling him to his feet. “beating on a poor innocent child like that? you make me fucking sick!”

the way you killed this disgusting child abuser wasn’t quick. it was slow and painful, the end result made out to look like an accident. you made sure to get as minimal blood on your clothes, not wanting to scare the two children outside who you believed was named thatcher and scarlett.

the walk back to your house was quiet, and when you walked through the door, scarlett in your arms and thatcher shyly trailing behind you, dean knew there was going to be more additions to your little family.

“who are these two cuties?” dean asked with a smile, putting down the wooden spoon he was using to stir the pasta sauce.

“this is thatcher,” you introduced, pointing at the timid boy behind you. “and this is scarlett.” your words were punctuated with a grunt as you placed scarlett on her feet, the girl instantly moving to her brother when she came in contact with the floor.

“well hello!” dean introduced, using his spoon to point at himself and then lincoln. “i’m dean and this is link. why don’t you two go and help him set the table while i talk to this little devil over here?”

the twins looked on warily, looking at each other and speaking in that telepathic conversation dean knew all too well. when lincoln slowly coaxed the two over to the table, dean looked at you with concern etched on his face. “what happened to the kids eye?”

“their father.” you replied sadly, watching as dean’s fists tightened on the spoon. “don’t worry, i handled it. let’s just say he won’t be talking with his throat ‘accidentally’ slit.”

“that’s my girl.” dean praised, kissing you on the forehead as he continued to make the pasta, listening to thatcher, scarlett, and lincoln have an animated conversation in the dining room.

SAM

how sam came around was a slow, drawn out process. he and scarlett were friends, and when he wasn’t enduring countless torment at his foster home, he was over at yours and dean’s ranch, hanging out with his best friend.

scarlett knew something was up with sam. at only eight years old, the boy wore his emotions like a daunting cape. anytime you or dean would call out that it was time for him to go back home, his eyes would widen and his fists would clench, body shaking uncomfortably.

one day, when you had called that sam’s foster care owner was here to pick him up, scarlett watched as his hands shook, feet unsteady as he stood to go meet the lady who caused him more pain then he could voice out loud. with a stern hold, scarlett clutched sam’s wrist, making the dirty blonde freeze, brown eyes meeting ice blue as he turned to look at her.

“you don’t need to leave,” she whispered, standing up so they were eye to eye. “my mommy and daddy can take you in like they did with me, thatch, and link. you could live with us, sammy, you don’t need to go back to that place.”

the boy was so young, yet too wise beyond his years for the stuff he had to see and the trauma he endured. shaking his head, he pulled his hand away from scarlett’s and walked to her bedroom door, turning around before he whispered, “i don’t have a choice.”

it hadn’t even been a week since scarlett’s conversation with sam when there was a knock at the door. when dean opened it, he looked on confused when he didn’t see anybody, freezing when a small cough was heard around his torso. looking down, he looked at sam’s dirty blonde head, brown eyes staring up at him with tears and and shaky hands.

“it’s the anniversary of my parents death and they made fun of me,” he whimpered, wringing his hands out when a tear dropped from his eyelids. “scarlett said i could stay here, if that’s okay with you and your lady friend.”

dean’s heart broke. he always had a soft spot for little sam. how couldn’t he? the kid had the same name as his little brother. he also reminded dean so much of his sammy; how shy and timid he was as a kid, just like this sam right in front of him.

the june heat tore through dean’s bones, making him open the door a little wider and usher the small boy into his home.

the home that sam would be able to call his from now on.

CLARA

the summer had flown by in a haze, and now it was september 2nd, the first day of school for the four kids that now lived with dean and his little monster.

you and dean had picked up sam, thatcher, and scarlett from elementary school, watching teary eyed as sam braved third grade while thatcher and scarlett braved fourth. it was all so new for you and dean, yet the swell of pride in your chest was something you were excited to feel for years to come.

pulling up in front of the middle school, you and dean talked quietly as you waited for lincoln to come out of his first day of grade five. the three kids in the back seat were talking loudly, yet dean noticed your far away look almost instantly.

“what’s wrong baby?” he asked, grabbing your hand as you stared out the window. “he followed your line of vision, seeing a tall, dirty blonde haired girl waiting by the school entrance. she couldn’t be more older than link, yet the scared and nervous expression on her face made both yours and dean’s stomachs drop.

“somethings wrong over there,” you voiced out loud, watching link as he hurried past the girl and bounded towards the car. “something just feels off.”

squeezing your hand, dean leaned over the middle console and whispered softly in your ear. “how about this? we go home, let the kids settle in, and then you can come back here and make sure everything is okay.”

you just nodded, listening as link entered the conversation and dean peeled away from the school’s car park, leaving the lonesome girl behind.

it hadn’t even been an hour before you were pulling back into the school parking lot, heart sinking as you saw the girl slumped over, head in her hands as her shoulders shook. she was clearly upset, and you were out of your car in an instant to make sure she was okay.

“hey,” you spoke softly as you walked over to her, hands clenched into fists by your side as you watched her teary green eyes stare back at you. “what’s wrong honey? where’s your parents?”

“god knows where, probably on a bender.” the girl replied back hoarsely, looking up at you like she recognized your face. “wait, i know you. you and your husband take in kids right? let them stay with you when they have no where to go?”

you didn’t want to blush at the idea of dean being your husband, so you resorted to nodding, looking down at the girl with concern. “yeah, that’s me and my dean. do you have no where to go, sweetheart?”

“my parents were supposed to pick me up,” the girl explained, taking your outstretched hand and standing up to her full height. “but knowing them, they’re probably high off their asses, wasting all our money. i can’t keep doing this! i’m twelve, going on thirteen! i’m going to be in high school soon.”

“hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, taking the girls backpack from her and putting it in the backseat as she climbed into the passenger’s. “what’s your name?”

“clara.” she replied, buckling up her seatbelt, staring at you as you climbed into the drivers seat. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” the tears started back up, making you reach across the seat and squeeze her hand. “this has been happening my whole life.”

“it’s okay,” you replied, holding onto her hand as you drove with the other. “me and dean will help you.”

clara was accommodating into the house nicely, getting along with the rest of the kids just fine. her and scarlett were like two pea’s in a pod, and you and dean were so happy to be growing your little family.

it only took two weeks before mayhem in the sound of loud banging and shouting from the front door came.

when you swung the door open, you were greeted with two people who clearly weren’t in their right state of mind. their pupils were dilated, and both of them were swaying on their feet.

before you could even speak, the lady pointed her finger at your chest, trying and failing to push you back. “where the fuck is my daughter!” her voice was a shrill shriek, and you could hear dean rallying up the kids behind you as they all freaked out in unison.

you knew they were talking about clara, and with the menacing stare you used to give all those supernatural creatures back in the day, you stood your ground and blocked their entrance into the house.

“i don’t know who the fuck you are,” the words from your lips were spit with malice, and you didn’t stop when the man went to cut you off. “but you’re both insane if you think i am leaving the amazing girl with you two. you left her alone, at school, for two whole fucking weeks. now, you better get the fuck off my property before something gets ugly.”

as you finished, you flashed your black eyes, watching as the two grown adults grumbled skidded away, too doped out to even register the change in your face.

slamming the door behind you in emphasis, you turned around to see dean smirking at you, hands crossed over his chest as he looked you up and down.

“that was pretty hot.” his words came out in a joking lilt, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

moving over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, you stared up at your man with love in your eyes. “where are the kids?”

“safe, in the living room, where they are supposed to be.” his words were followed with a searing kiss on your lips, and you felt your world shift as you kissed him back even harder.

LILY

the small little three year old that you had taken under your wing wasn’t as complicated as the other children, but it was still just as upsetting.

lily’s mom was young when she had her daughter. she was also not in the right frame of mind to take after a child, so she decided to give her away and let her grandmother take care of her.

now this woman was in her mid eighties, and after two, almost three years of having to take care of lily, it got a little too much. so after a while, she spread word about needing a helper around the house, and that’s where you came in.

for about a year, you helped the nice old woman named myrtle with whatever she needed. taking care of lily, feeding her, playing with her, putting her to bed. the bond you grew with the little girl was strong, and you didn’t know if you’d be able to let this little cutie go.

around the time of lily’s third birthday, myrtle grew ill. you and her both knew that she wasn’t going to make it, and as her dying wish, she told you that she wanted you and dean to take in lily and make sure she had a good home.

you had never agreed to something quicker, and after staying by myrtle’s bedside until she passed away, you made sure that her wish stayed true.

lily’s head of light blonde curls were all you saw as you carried her out of the hospital, tears in both of your eyes as you mourned myrtle. lily was only three, but the sadness in her blue irises was palpable.

the december night you brought lily home was a joyous one. clara and lincoln helped dean bake a cake, thatcher had helped scarlett and sam make a banner welcoming her to the family, and you couldn’t be more grateful for all the people that were infiltrating yours and dean’s life.

LUKE AND MILO

it was mid march, only three months after lily started living with you and dean permanently, and dean found himself having a major case of deja vu in his auto body shop.

one second, he’s looking under the hood of a car, checking to see if he needed to fix anything else, and the next, a small boy was whizzing past his feet, with an angry man following right after him.

dean recognized the man as the owner of the grocery store a couple feet away from his shop, and he was confused as to why he was chasing after a little boy and barging into his space.

“come back here you little punk!” the man roared, stalking around the car’s and trying to see where the boy hid. “you need to pay for that bread and peanut butter.”

in that moment, dean felt his heart drop to his ass. this sounded all to familiar, and he was getting flashbacks to the time that he did the exact same thing so sammy wouldn’t go hungry.

when dean noticed the man getting closer to the little feet behind one of his cars, he decided to take matters into his owns hands. walking over to the man, he tapped him on the shoulder and held out a twenty dollar bill when the man turned around.

“here frank,” he sighed, waving his hand when the man took the cash with a huff. “go back to your store, i’ll deal with the kid.”

when the man was gone, dean found himself slowly walking towards the car, freezing when he noticed the little boy no older than five, holding an even smaller boy who looked like he was younger than lily.

the older of the two was wide eyed and scared, one hand clutching the bread and peanut butter while the other held on tightly to who dean assumed to be his brother. this was getting all too similar for dean, and he truly felt a chill run up his spine.

bending down to the little boys level, dean placed his hands on his knees and smiled softly at the two boys. “hey you two,” he spoke softly, looking between the brothers. “i’m dean, what’s your guys’ names?”

“i’m luke,” the older one mumbled, jutting his chin in the direction of his brother. “and this is my brother milo.”

it was freaky really. these two looked so much like dean and sam when they were younger. light brown hair, hazel green eyes, it was really throwing dean off kilter, and he thought that if his little monster could bring in so many children, then he could bring in at least two.

“why did you feel the need to steal luke?” dean asked, watching as the eldest placed the food on the shop floor and cradled his brother tightly to his chest.

“he was hungry.” the boy replied sheepishly, shuffling milo in his arms as he looked up at dean. “we’re in the system, but no one wants to take the both of us together. i’m six, he’s two. we’re not the newborns everyone wants, and if they do want us, they only want one and not both. i can’t be separated from my brother, dean, he’s all i’ve got.”

dean’s heart broke as he heard luke’s admission. he knew the feelings he was talking about, for dean had felt the same about sammy when they were young. sam was all he had in their shitty childhood, and he’d be damned if he let anyone take his brother away from him.

standing to his full height, dean grabbed a rag and wiped his oil stained hands, looking at the two brothers as he did. “how about this,” he said, throwing the rag somewhere unknown and looking down at the two boys. “me and my girl can help you, okay? we can give you a place to stay, give you food and a place to sleep. somewhere that won’t separate the two of you. how does that sound?”

luke’s eyes widened, and he looked down at milo who had his fingers in his mouth. “that. . . that actually sounds amazing dean, thank you.”

that night, when dean walked through the door with the two boys hot on his heels, he couldn’t help but yell into the quiet house, getting your attention. “baby! we’ve got two more!”

SADIE AND MARLEY

though they weren’t blood related, sadie and marley viewed themselves as sisters. with sadie being the eldest at seven, and marley being only two years younger at five, the two girls had grown up in the foster system together, being inseparable every since they had met.

sadie was a fiery redhead, with freckles dusting her pale cheeks and bright green eyes that could coerce anyone she put her mind too. marley couldn’t be anymore opposite in looks. her long, curly black hair reached her mid back, and her dark brown eyes shined against her equally pale skin to sadie.

they went to the same school as the younger kids in the winchester clan, and had heard talks about how they fostered children, yet sadie and marley didn’t think much of it.

well, sadie didn’t.

marley always wanted a home, and when she and sadie ended up at the winchesters door step selling girl scout cookies, she couldn’t have been more excited.

when you opened the door, seeing the two adorable girls in girl scout uniforms holding cookies, you couldn’t have swooned more. they were so adorable, and the way their arms were linked made you believe they were as thick as thieves.

though she didn’t have the chance to greet them before marley was bouncing on her feet, looking at the children running around behind your legs. “hey lady!” she waved, smiling brightly up at you. “do you want some cookies! and maybe two children!”

your lips quirk up in surprise and a small smile, while sadie elbows marley in the ribs. “what the heck marls? you can’t just say stuff like that!”

“what?” marley says defensively, listening to sadie as she reels of reasons why you shouldn’t say that to people.

“you two are too cute,” you coo, watching as the two talk animatedly to each other. looking at marley, you direct your next question to her. “why did you ask such question, sweetheart?”

grinning a toothy smile at you, marley goes into a whirlwind of reasons why she asked such a crazy question. “well, sadie and me don’t have a home. well, we do, but we share it with twenty other girls.”

“we live in a foster home.” sadie replies, making sure that marley’s words make sense. “i have since i was a baby and marley came when she was one.”

smile slightly dropping, you look at the two girls and lower your voice slightly so they can hear you better. “do you two like it there?”

“it’s okay,” sadie replies, marley nodding enthusiastically. “i mean, it’s not the best, but i’ve got marley, and she makes it better.”

you can’t help the urge you have to keep these little girls at this house. they would make ten, and honestly, that seemed like a perfect number for you and dean. these two would fit perfectly with all the rest of the children, and you couldn’t stop yourself when you invited them inside for dinner to meet dean and the rest of the kids.

both sadie and marley instantly clicked with the kids, all ten of them running around the backyard with your three dogs as dean grilled something on the barbecue. when he saw the two extra girls join the fray, he looked over at you with a soft smile and reached his arm out to wrap it around your waist.

“ten is enough.” he whispered in you ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your cheek. “i think we’ve finally made our perfect family, little monster.”

TAGS: @titsout4jackles @starzify @daylighted @deansbeer @sunsbaby @deanangel @bluemerakis @haunteres @figthoughts @beausling @dulcescorderitas @deanswidow @honeyryewhiskey @cowboysandcigarettes @h8aaz @florchids @misatxox @a-lil-pr1ncess @s0urw00lf @flow33didontsmoke

NAT BABBLES: i love their little family so much!! bree and i have put so much care into these little cuties!!

#nat writes ˚౨ৎ˚#dean winchester x demon!reader #ultravi0lence14 #dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #imagine #supernatural x reader #fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic

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sheerfreesia007 · 5 months ago

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Check Under My Hood

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word count: 3,544

Content warnings: Fluff, suggestive

Summary: Your car breaks down on the side of the road about 3 miles away from the repair shop you noticed on your drive back and forth. What happens when the owner of said shop happens to be a muscular handsome man who has a kind heart and a slight knight in shining armor complex?

“No, no, no, no. C’mon please!” You begged in dismay as your car began to slow to an almost crawl. Quickly you turned your steering wheel to the side and guided your car to the shoulder of the road before easing on the brake and stopping the car before parking it. You sighed loudly and defeatedly as you leant forward and rested your forehead on your steering wheel while glaring at the lit up engine light on your dashboard. You had thought you had a few more miles for the repair shop in town before your car would give up on you but sadly that wasn’t the case.

Groaning loudly you knew that you would have to walk the rest of the way to the repair shop and it was at least another three miles down the road. Hitting your head repeatedly on the steering wheel you whined softly to yourself before sighing and sitting back up in your seat. You grabbed your purse off the passenger side seat before stepping out of your car with your keys in hand. Locking your car you turned your head towards the direction that you needed to head in and sighed softly as the sun glinted off your dark sunglasses, it was gonna be a long walk.

*-*-*-*

The sound of rock music flitted through the air as you slowly walked along the side of the road feeling overheated and exhausted. Wiping the back of your hand against your forehead you sighed with relief as your eyes darted over to the mechanic shop and heard the loud whirring of a drill from inside the garage. Double checking the road you tried to quickly make it across to the mechanic’s shop but stumbled as your feet hit a lifted piece of pavement. You yelped as you began to fall forward keeping your hands out to catch you on the hard pavement when suddenly a strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist and held you hovering above the ground.

”Woah! Easy there!” A pleasant voice from behind you sounded and you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment as the arm righted you back on your feet and then turned you swiftly making your head spin. You felt woozy as your brain kept spinning from the swift movement and black spots began to appear in your eyesight. A taller looming man with kind concerned brown eyes looked down at you before his head turned and yelled out for help.

*-*-*-*

Groaning softly you frowned as your head rolled on your neck tiredly before your eyes fluttered open lazily. Darting your eyes around the small room you noticed that it was an office of some sort with card boxes piled up in tall stacks along the back wall. Lifting your head slowly you groaned again while raising a hand to the back of your neck and rubbing it to try and massage the kink out of your muscles.

Suddenly the door opened quickly and your eyes darted over to the tall man who stood in the doorway. He was dressed in a dirty white tank top and a pair of blue coveralls with the top half of them tied around his waist covering his legs while a pair of tan steel toed work boots and a well worn black baseball cap with some obscure logo on it made up his entire outfit.

”Oh! You’re awake finally!” He said surprised to see that you were awake in the office. He disappeared from the doorway for a moment before he was striding back into the office holding a water bottle in his hand. “Here sip slowly.” He instructed you before he opened the water bottle for you and handed it to you.

He then took a seat on the desk in front of you as he watched you carefully took small sips of the water. He smiled happily as he watched you before he nodded his head at you.

”Good. So looks like you got overheated and dehydrated on your walk. Where were you coming from? And where were you going?” He asked curiously as he tilted his head to the side while crossing his arms over his chest. His hat sat atop his head with a jaunty tilt and your eyes took him appreciatively before you looked up at his face as you saw the smug smirk on his lips.

”Came from my broken down car and I was walking to here. Thought I could drive it all the way here but it broke down on me about three miles back.” You told him in a raspy scratchy voice. He nodded his head at your explanation before slipping off the desk to stand in front of you.

”Alright finish that water and then come find me in the garage. I’ll drive the tow truck out to your car and tow it back here. We’ll take a look at it and see what we can do for you.” He said easily and you nodded your head thankfully.

”Thank you.” You told him softly and he smiled a lopsided smile at you before winking and then grinning before he left the office. You felt the blush on your cheeks at his teasing wink before you shook your head at his antics before sipping slowly at the water bottle.

When you had finished the water you tossed it into the small garbage can you found at the side of the desk before standing from your chair and stretching tiredly. You then left the office and made your way into the loud chaotic garage. There were multiple cars lifted on hydraulic lifts as men yelled and called out to each other throughout the garage. There were two men bent over the hood of an old Cadillac talking to each other as their arms were buried deep in the engine of the car. Another three men were standing at the side of the garage laughing at a joke one of them had told the others. Two others are peering under a large SUV as one of them holds a drill in one of his hands as they talk about something that you can’t hear. And then finally there is the man who had been in the office with you walking towards you with a wide smile on his face, your eyes take him in once more and you notice the swagger he holds as he walks and you can’t help but feel desire course through you. The man is sex on legs and he has a certain confidence about him that just draws you in each time.

”Ready to go get your car?” He asks with that smug smirk on his face again and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly causing him to chuckle softly at you.

”Yes, please.” You say softly, feeling the eyes of the other men on you as you step closer to the man in front of you.

”I’ll be back guys. Gonna tow a car in for repair.” He called out before he began to guide you towards the tow truck that was parked out front. “Got your keys and stuff?” He asked and you nodded as you patted your purse that hung over your shoulder. “Good, here let me help you up.” He said easily as he opened the passenger side door of the tow truck and easily lifted you up into the seat causing you to yelp and grab onto his shoulders as he smirked softly at you. “Love hearing that sound you make, especially when I cause it.” He teases softly and you gape at him silently.

He then closes the door once you’re settled in the seat before running around the front of the truck and hopping up into the driver’s seat. He grins at you before he starts up the truck and pulls out of the parking lot of the garage while loud rock music plays over the stereo.

”So do you live around here or something? Normally we don’t get a lot of business from people we don’t know.” He says loudly over the stereo and you grimace slightly at how loud it all is. “Sorry, Bin and Han like the music loud.” He says quickly as he lowers the volume on the stereo.

”I just moved to the area actually. Was driving back and forth from the city to my new place. I saw your repair shop on one of my trips back and forth and the engine light has been on since I hit the county line.” You told him and he nodded his head.

”Yeah that trip is usually hard on cars. Why’d you move from the city if you don’t mind my asking?” He asked as he kept his eyes on the road.

”I needed a change. The city is just so busy and I was getting burnt out from work.” You told him honestly and he nodded his head at your words.

”Yeah I hear that. So do you need a job? Or do you have something lined up?” He asked curiously as his eyes darted over to you for a moment before turning back to the road.

”Oh no, I have something already lined up. I start a remote medical coding position in a week.” You tell him and suddenly realize how open you’re being with him and grow slightly cautious but he smiles widely at you before turning back to the road.

”That’s pretty impressive. You had to do schooling for that right?” He asks curiously and you nod your head at his question.

”Yeah I went through a nine month program and got my certificate for it while working full time in the city. Then just began applying for jobs and found one that fit what I wanted.” You said conversationally before growing quiet once more realizing how much you had told him. He chuckled softly and you turned to look at him.

”I’ve been told I’m very easy to open to.” He said with a slightly embarrassed grin trying to make you feel better.

”You don’t say.” You said teasingly as you chuckled softly and he laughed loudly at your words before shrugging slightly.

”Call it my natural charm.” He suggested and you laughed softly at him while shaking your head.

”I’ll say.” You teased and he burst out into laughter again. “So since I’ve told you my life story so far can I get your name?” You asked him as you leaned across the long bench seat towards him and he grinned cheekily at you.

”Do I get yours in return?” He asked smoothly and you faked thinking about it before nodding your head.

”Couldn’t hurt. You already know more about me.” You said with a shrug.

”Name’s Christopher Chan Bahng. But you can call me Chris or Chan.” He said easily and you smiled at him as. You gave him your name as. well. “That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl.” He teased and you laughed surprised at his flirting as he grimaced at it. “I know, I know. That was bad.” He admitted and you laughed loudly as you nodded your head.

”At least you realized it and I didn’t have to tell you.” You joked as you continued to laugh.

”Alright, alright chuckles.” He said softly with a twist of his lips as he pulled up to your car. “This you chuckles?” He asked with a grin and you smiled while nodding your head. He easily pulled the tow truck in front of your car before hopping out and hooking your car to the tow truck and then driving it back to the garage.

There two of the guys who had been joking at the side of the garage were waiting eagerly to get started on the car. They helped Chris get the car backed up into a bay and unhooked it from the tow truck. When you hopped out of the tow truck you heard Chris talking to the two of them authoritatively.

”I’m gonna be working on this one.” He told the two guys who looked over at him with confused looks on their faces before their eyes darted over to you and then sly smirks slipped onto their faces. The taller one raised his hands in faux surrender as they both quickly left to park the tow truck for him. “Have a seat over there. Can’t have you passing out on me again.” Chris says easily as he points to a chair set up against the wall near where he had parked your car. You do as you’re told and Chris easily pops your hood to see what he’s got to work with.

He easily gets to work and you lose yourself in watching him, he moves so fluidly and effortlessly that you’re instantly mesmerized by him. Embarrassingly he catches you staring a few times as the two of you talk while he works and he soon can’t keep the smirk from his face as you roll your eyes at him and try to keep the blush from your cheeks.

The way his muscles stretch and flex as he moves as your eyes raking over him hungrily and you try to keep your eyes at a respectable place on him but you find yourself checking out his whole body while he works. And when he gets on a small roller cart to get under your car you nearly groan out loud at the image he presents. Thankfully you’re able to bite your lip hard to curb the sound just barely from escaping your mouth.

”Alright I think that should do it.” He says as he slides out from underneath your car and you have to bite your lip once more as a whimper bubbles up your throat as you watch him move. “Let me just start up and clear the engine codes and you should be good to go.” He said with a nod of his head, you nod your head along with him feeling dread begin to fill you at the thought that your time with Chris was ending.

He easily slides into your car and starts it up listening to the engine turn over effortlessly and you grin brightly at him through your front windshield. His answering grin mirrors yours and relief fills you that your car is working again. When Chris cuts the engine and slides back out of your car he waves you over to the office on the other side of the garage and you notice the other guys watching you with knowing smirks and looks on their faces.

”So it was an easy fix and didn’t take long to get it done.” Chris says easily as he slumps into his desk chair while you take the seat you had originally claimed when you woke up in the office.

”How much do I owe you?” You ask and Chris smiles softly as he looks up at you while typing away at his computer. He quotes you a price that seems way to low for all the work he did on your car and you furrow your brow at him. “That’s all?” You ask and he bursts out in laughter once more.

”Well with the pretty lady discount and the good company discount it dropped it down to that price.” He teases you and you flush brightly at his flirting.

“Is this how you always do business?” You ask with a soft smirk slipping onto your face and he smiles softly while shaking his head no.

”Nah, you’re the first.” He admits and your eyes widen at his admission before you hand him your credit card. He grins softly at you before running your car and printing out a receipt for you.

When he walks you back to your car which is now parked in the parking lot in front of the garage you’re hoping that he’ll ask you for your number. After all the talking and flirting the two of you done all day you’re hoping it’ll mean he wants more with you. But as he shuts your driver side door for you and leans down into the window he tells you to have a good night and get home safe before insisting you come back to his garage if you ever have any car trouble. You feel dejected and disappointed when he doesn’t offer his number or ask for yours and you sigh softly before nodding your head.

”Thanks for helping me Chris. I really appreciate it.” You tell him honestly and he nods his head before standing straight and taps your car door twice before stepping back and allowing you to pull out of the parking lot. You drive home questioning if all the flirting was just to put you at ease and meant nothing to him.

*-*-*-*

The next week finds you back at Chris’ garage and parking your car in front of the open bay doors. You sit in your car for a moment surveying who’s in the garage today as you try to work up the courage to get out of your car and walk up to the office. You had been debating visiting the garage again but after a week of second guessing your every interaction with Chris you couldn’t handle it anymore. There wasn’t anything wrong with your car but you couldn’t think of any other reason to come visit him after he didn’t ask for your number.

Suddenly there’s a tapping on your driver side window and you jerk away from it in surprise and shock causing an amused Chris to burst out laughing as you roll down your window. His laughter fills your car and you can’t help but smile embarrassedly at him.

”What’s up pretty lady? Car trouble again?” He asks concerned while still smiling at you.

”It’s making a funny noise.” You tell him as you turn your head to face him your eyes darting around his face taking him in silently. You realize silently that you missed him and your heart begins to beat quickly against your rib cage.

”Alright pull her in to this bay over here.” He instructs you and you nod your head quickly causing him to smirk softly at you. “You always obey directions easily?” He asks teasingly and you suck in a breath for a moment before lifting your head challengingly.

”Only when it’s you giving the directions.” You flirt back and he stares at you with wide eyes for a moment before grinning widely at you.

”C’mon pretty lady.” He says as he begins to walk away with a soft smirk on his face.

Once you park your car into the bay he had told you to, he easily helps you out of the car and points to the chair against the wall and you sit there obediently causing him to smirk once more as you stick your tongue out at him. He laughs delightedly at your bratty attitude while shaking his head.

”Don’t tempt me with a good time sweetheart.” He teases and you shrug your shoulders at him.

”Must’ve not been a good enough time last time.” You snip out and he narrows his eyes at you for a second before sliding underneath your car on the roller cart. You hope he finds something wrong with your car since you knew you were lying to him and only wanted an excuse to come back and see him.

But it doesn’t take him long and soon he’s sliding back out from your car. He lays there for a moment staring at you with a knowing look in his eyes as his smirk grows smug.

”There’s nothing wrong with your car.” He states confidently and you hang your head as you sigh. You can hear his chuckle as he rolls himself over to you so that he’s able to make eye contact with you as your head still hangs. His amused eyes connect with yours and you dart yours away to stare at the floor.

”I needed a reason to come see you again since you didn’t ask for my number.” You grumble out softly and he chuckles delightedly at your words.

”Miss me that much?” He asks quietly and your eyes dart back to his to see him watching you amazed. “Didn’t think I had a shot with you.” He confesses softly and you scoff softly at him making him grin widely and lean closer to you still on his roller cart.

”Well you do.” You said with a slight pout on your face and his grin is still there on his face when he leans up and presses a chaste sweet kiss to your pouted lips. You hum softly against him and lean into the kiss as he cups your cheeks in his large hands.

”Forgive me?” He asks softly against your lips when he pulls away.

”Ask me for my number and maybe I will.” You say and he chuckles amused at your compromise. “Otherwise I’m gonna have to make up another reason to come to your garage.” Chris bursts out in happy laughter as he digs his cellphone out of his pocket and places it in your lap before pulling you down for another sweet kiss.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur

#my writing #stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #bang chan #skz x reader

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munsonluhvr · 10 months ago

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MAMA, I'M IN LOVE WITH A MECHANIC (PART 1)

mechanic!eddie munson x receptionist!reader, no warnings. ❀ part 2 & part 3 coming soon...

“No, that’s not-“ Joyce Byers begins to say as she gently pushes you to the side of the register with a frustrated, yet gentle, sigh. “It’s like this,” she says, pushing the metal buttons of the cash register, making the cash drawer pop out towards you. You frown, biting your lips as embarrassment creeps across your cheeks. On the other side of the register, the teen-boy customer looks between you and Joyce with an impatient look.

It’s your first day as the new receptionist at Munson’s Timeless Tune-Ups, a car repair shop owned by Wayne Munson and his nephew Eddie Munson; though, so far, you’ve only met Wayne. Joyce, the current receptionist, is moving to California for a ‘new start’ she told you, and you are learning her ways, or trying to learn at least.

It’s only 1pm, and already your head is beginning to ache. Since 7am, you’ve been learning how to work the register, schedule appointments, and learn automotive terminology in order to tell Wayne and Eddie the issues the customers are having with their vehicles – and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake in applying for this job.

“You’ll get the hang of it, y/n. Don’t worry,” Joyce says, offering you an encouraging smile though you question her transparency. So far, you haven’t figured out the register quite yet. She moves a few paces to the side, pulling out a box cutter from her back pocket and bending down towards the small pile of cardboard boxes that rest behind the counter. “Mind helping me with these?” Joyce says, gesturing towards the boxes. You nod, leaving from behind the register to help.

Together, you and Joyce cut the boxes open, revealing various types of air fresheners and other car accessories, placing them neatly on the racks on the wall. Munson’s Timeless Tune-Ups is a small, humble shop, the register adjacent to the garage area where the Munson’s fix the cars. The office is small, the register placed on top of a wooden table. Off to the right, the wall is covered with things to purchase, small pamphlets explaining different car issues. The windows that line the wall allow for ample sun to flush into the office, making it bright.

Behind you, the telephone rings loudly, causing you and Joyce to jump. Joyce drops the product she holds back into the box and moves towards the telephone. You hum softly, continuing to place the little packets of air fresheners onto their hooks. You’re living in your own mind until Joyce inhales sharply and then places the phone back onto the hook. “Y/n, I’m so sorry to have to do this, especially on your first day, but my son Will needs to be picked up from school,” Joyce says, moving quickly to collect her jacket and purse from the chair. “I don’t think the Munson’s have many cars left to do so you won’t have to worry about using the register, hopefully they’ll give you exact change.”

You try to maintain a smile, though panic is beginning to settle into you. You barely can use the register, somewhat know how to schedule appointments, and ask the right questions to write down for the Munson’s, but what are you to do without Joyce? “O-Okay, Joyce.”

“Just be sure to lock up, the keys are on the hook by the door.” Joyce gestures towards the door that leads into the garage part of the shop where a set of keys dangle on the hook. You nod, biting your lip again to ease your anxiety. “Good luck.”

“I hope your…“ you begin to say as Joyce pulls the door open. “…son feels better,” you finish, though Joyce is gone before you can finish your pleasantry. You sigh to yourself, looking at the several boxes that are left to unbox, price, and put onto the wall. You continue your work, pleased that you at least have something to keep you busy until the shop closes.

Off in the distance, somewhere in the garage, you can hear Wayne and who you assume is Eddie, chatter back and forth, listening to the radio loudly. Occasionally there is a loud bang, a clank, of the last of the customers cars behind repaired. Your fingers are laced with angst, the anticipation of not knowing how to use the register, or anything really, making it hard to concentrate.

Working in the quiet of the office is disturbed when the chime of the front door signals a customer. Placing your hands on your knees to lift you up, you turn towards the door ready to greet the customer but the male standing in the doorway is covered in grease, dirt marks tattering his bare arms and glistening chest. He has long, dark, curly hair, a red bandana covering the top of his head. This must be Eddie.

“So, you must be Joyce’s replacement. Y/n, right? Aren’t you pretty,” Eddie says bluntly, moving towards the water dispenser in the corner of the office. Your eyes widen, goosebumps raising on your skin as you watch him walk past the front of the register. “Thanks,” you mumble, looking down at the surface of the register counter.

“Wayne said this is your first day on the job,” Eddie says, glancing at you. His eyes graze the length of your body as you places a small, paper cup underneath the spicket and then push the lever for water. “How’s it going so far?”

You flush under his sight, feeling every curve and inch of your flesh under scrutiny. You clear your throat, trying to glance at Eddie casually. God, he’s so gorgeous. ��F-Fine. Joyce had to leave but I think I can manage.”

Eddie hums, taking a few paces to sit in the chair that’s a few inches from you. He sighs loudly as he sits, kicking his feet out to rest on the register counter, blocking you in. He leans his head against the wall, looking at you. “I’m sure you can, I believe in you,” he says with a wink. You smile, then look away, sitting on the stool directly behind the register.

He’s wearing a white, cotton tank top, that’s now see-through due to sweat. His jeans are covered in dirt marks, his yellow steel-toed boots now dark brown with dirt. His fingers are covered in silver rings, a silver chain adorning his defined chest. You feel your core begin to melt.

“I just need to rest a minute, the garage has been so busy today,” Eddie says, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyelids. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You shake your head, glancing at him quickly. “Of course not. Plus, it’s your shop.”

“My uncle’s shop, I merely work here. Plus,” Eddie says mimicking you, “you were in here in silence and I had to come in here and disturb that.”

You shrug, a little smile creeping across your mouth. “I don’t mind the company.”

Eddie hums softly again, opening his eyes only to flash you a little smile. You two sit in silence for only a moment when the last customer saunters into the office. “May I pay?” he asks, looking between you and Eddie. You nod, turning away from Eddie and to the customer.

The panic begins to set in again as you stare at the metal keys of the antique cash register. You take the yellow slip from the customer, looking towards the bottom for the total that Wayne has written. You recall Joyce’s protocol on how to use the register and you follow them confidently, feeling Eddie’s eyes on you. You punch in the numbers and wait for the cash drawer to slide open – but nothing happens. “Um,” you say nervously to the customer. “Sorry, let me try again.”

You try again yet come to the same result. You clench your jaw, heat beginning to creep up your neck. ‘Why me?’ you think to yourself.

“Let me help,” Eddie says, taking his feet of the counter. He stands up, sliding up beside you close enough that your arms brush. He punches in the total on the register, a few other buttons, and the cash register opens up with a ding! Your fingers work quick to take the customer’s bill and exchange it with the exact change. “Have a nice day,” you murmur, moving to sit back on the stool, your line of sight aimed at the floor.

Once the customer leaves, Eddie moves around from behind the counter, moving towards the front door where the customer left only seconds before. “It was nice meeting you, y/n. I can already tell I’ll be hanging in the office a lot more.” Eddie says, turning towards where you sit on the other side of the office. Before you can reply, Eddie slips out the door.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!Eddie Munson

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your-highnessmarvel · 1 year ago

Text

Repairs

Requested by @talesofreading : Would you write something where you're a close friend of Steve and one time as your Bike needs some repair, he tells you to bring it to Bucky as he's good in fixing it. You're hesitant first as you have a bad crush on him but you decide to do it. So when you get there he's wearing a muscle Shirt, is all dirty and Looks pretty hot with his metal arm. So after you watch him fix your bike you can't resist the way he also Looks at you, so it happens that you end up in his shower together with some passionate smut. Later then he asks you for a proper date? 🤭

AN: omg this was sooooo good to write omg

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, piv, oral (f receiving), fingering, language

*gif not mine

MASTERLIST

"Yep, totally busted," Steve said, looking back up at you from where he knelt next to your smoking bike.

You put a hand to your sweaty forehead. Both of you had been at this for the better part of the afternoon, trying to figure out what was wrong with your motorcycle. Steve was in his white wifebeater, stained black from oil and grim, nails coated in dirt. He'd sweated right through his shirt and even his jeans were full of mud and dirt.

You'd sweated your fair share as well, competing with dirt under your nails and sweat right into your hairline. you didn't look any better, but you didn't care; this was your best friend, after all, and you had no reason to try to impress him.

"You know what?" Steve said, putting his tools back into his box. "You should go see Bucky."

You immediately rolled your eyes.

"He's good with bikes, y/n," he commended, seeing the way you shook your head.

"Is this another ploy to set me up with your grumpy best friend?" you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve got to his feet, dirt-stained hands going right into his pockets. "I mean it, y/n," he said, almost scolded. "I'm not as savvy with bikes as he is. He'd do it if you said I sent you."

"Then come with me!" you said. "Every time I'm alone with him, there's this awkward silence and all he does is grunt as a response."

Steve smiled. "I wish I could come, but I've got a date," he answered.

"Yeah, right," you grumbled. You watched him carefully, your best friend and mentor, and something along the edges of his eyes was curious.

He was shy.

"Who is she?" you asked.

He shrugged. "A girl that I saw at the library." He cut that off pretty short, picking up his tools, his towel, and throwing the keys back at you. "Now, get to Bucky's before it's nightfall."

Bucky lived way out of the city, into the utopian suburbs. You found it funny that this was the life that Bucky chose. After everything you'd heard from him, you'd pictured him in a dingy, half-lit, half-crumbling one-bedroom in Manhattan. Not in the outskirts of the city.

Thank God your car could pull a trailer, or else you'd have had to ask Bucky to meet you at your place, and that just wasn't happening. The thousand-year-old soviet asset was known to be a judger of literally everything.

You pulled into Bucky's parking space, the garage to his tiny little house open, like a black mouth ready to swallow you in. By this time, it was nearing four in the afternoon, and the sun was searing, hot and humid, and with just a foot out of your car, you were already sweating.

You closed the door loudly, maybe trying to announce your presence so you didn't have to knock on the door.

"Hey." It was Bucky, coming out of the shadows of his garage. It took you a second to get the hinges in your jaw to work because, damn.

You'd always thought of Bucky as a man who passed as good looking. Well, when you met him, he was still in heavy therapy and on government surveillance. He still had long, matted brown hair and a face dragged down by sorrow.

But now. Now he'd taken to cleanly shave his hair, leaving a few inches of thick, curling locks on top of his hair, not totally covering his ears. And even though he was slimmer than the last time you'd seen him - he hadn't been working out as much - he still looked... better. Real better.

"Hey," you said, awkwardly waving at him. He was carrying a white rag, cleaning his hands from oil or dirt or whatever else he'd been doing. "Steve said I could come to you if I had problems with my bike?"

He pursed his lips. He came closer, out of the shadows and into the mid-afternoon sun, and you got a good glimpse at him. Golden skin, scars matting his hand, his knuckles. He was wearing a muscle shirt, the kind that was maybe a bit too small for him, molding to his muscles, straining across his metal bicep.

You'd never really seen the arm before. Only flickers of his hands or fingers, but never the entire machine.

You licked your lips, something squeezing in your lower belly.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

you shrugged. "Dunno."

He glazed his eyes, rolled them. "Alright, take it down and bring it into the garage."

With a tiny sigh of resentment - he wasn't helping you - you unlatched the ties of your bike and rolled it into the garage. it was darker, a little cooler, inside. As you settled your bike in the dead center of the room, Bucky brought two stools, effortlessly carrying them around.

He sat on his and motioned with a wrench for you to sit beside him. Even though you'd sweated all day in your black t-shirt, and God knows whatever he'd down today, there was something terrific about sitting this close to Bucky.

His tanned fingers worked to open up the bike, his metal hand working the wrench.

"Ah," he said, poking around the engine. "I see what's wrong."

"Is it fixable?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered.

You swallowed the heat climbing up your throat, watching him get to work in silence. Unlike Steve, Bucky didn't tell you what he was doing or why; he just did it.

It took longer than expected. And the more he worked, straining against your bike, the sweatier he got, the more figetting you did.

His flesh arm was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. His hand was veined, strained against the metal piece he was holding aside. His fingers were dirty with grime and dust. Even that God damned muscle shirt was stained with dirt and sweat and grime.

By the time he was done, a light sheet of rain was coating the ground outside. It was pitter-pattering against the cement, a slow drone of rain against the tin roof. Almost comforting.

"You can't take your bike out in the rain," he said, putting everything back in its place, stowing his tools and his rags.

You gulped. "Yeah, I'm sure the rain will let off soon." You dragged your sweaty palms onto your jeans nervously. It caught Bucky's eye.

He stood, dragging your eyes up to his figure. He was so tall, so wide at the shoulders, sweating in his shirt, hair a mess.

"I've got beer inside," he said, throwing the rag in the corner of the garage, placing his tools on his self-made wooden desk. Then he turned to you and gestured to the front door. "Come on."

You followed him out into the rain, walking quickly up the steps and into his home, which smelled of him, something woodsy, and air freshener.

You were humid, rain dotting your skin as you took off your sneakers and followed him into the kitchen. The air conditioning was making you cold.

his home was cozy but so boyish. No decorations but a huge TV. A grey couch with not pillows or blankets. Empty liquor bottles as props over the refrigerator, which droned on and on. There was only one magnet on his fridge, and it read "I love NY!" Which was ironic because Bucky didn't love anything.

"Here," he said, offering you an ice cold beer, but it did nothing to warm you up. You leaned back against his kitchen counter, sipping on your beer, watching him poke around the inside of his fridge. The yellow light cast on his face like a glow, and he hummed when he found what he wanted.

By the time he took out the rolled up cheese, he saw you shivering by the sink.

"I'm sorry," you said, settling the beer down. "I'm just a bit cold from the rain."

He hummed, slamming the cheese rolls on the kitchen table.

"We ought to warm you up," he said, diving back into the fridge to get a beer, which he opened and took a five good gulps before he wiped his wet mouth.

"Yeah," you chuckled, pressing your hands against your arms, searching for heat.

The super soldier, immune to any heat or cold or anything really, stood before you with his sticky muscle shirt molding to every nook in his muscles. His arms, his chest, down to his abs. Water had made it almost see-through, and you felt like a perv watching as he breathed, watching his muscles contract beneath the fabric.

"You should take a shower, y/n," he said, tone low.

You startled, eyes dragging from his abs to his face in a split second. Did you smell? Was that why he'd said that?

"You're shivering, poor thing," he said, clucking his tongue, taking another wild swing of his beer. And you noticed that he was eyeing you took, at your jeans sticking to your thighs, your hips. At your wet shirt glueing to the curve of your waist and breasts.

He set his beer down and offered his hand. "Come."

On some instinct you'd never registered before, you took his hand, flesh fingers warm and calloused.

He led you into a small bathroom with no windows. where various male paraphernalia was strewn across the sink. He pulled the shower curtian back and started the shower and you just stood there like a fish out of water; mouth slightly agape, your hand still loosely holding on to his.

"Bucky?"

He hummed.

"I don't get it," you said.

He returned his gaze to yours, satisfied with the steam rising from the shower. He gave you a small, tight smile. "Get undressed," he said, gesturing his chin at you, dropping your hand.

You stood there like a statue, examining him; from the hard jawline, the seriousness in his eyes, the way his skin pulled back when he moved his mouth.

Then, harder this time, "Get undressed or freeze, sweetheart."

The nickname, the pet name, sent a wave of fresh heat right into your face.

He watched, then slowly, he smiled. Like a rpedator trying to win its prey without having to sink teeth into flesh.

He took a tiny step towards you, watching your breath hitch, and he slid metal fingers under your shirt, pulling it up until it came right off your head. Your hair flopped back down over your shoulders, covering your bra.

He bit his lip. You watched, entranced as he moved to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. He was agile because he took your panties off with it.

He came back to his full towering height, and he brushed your hair behidn your shoulders, exposing your chest, your full flesh to him.

He snaked an arm around your waist, and you gulped, the feel of his hands, burning metal fingers, was like a lightning bolt had erupted under your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, close to your ear, his breath in your hair. "So fucking gorgeous." He slid his metal hand up and then your bra was sliding off your arms.

"Let me touch you, y/n," he whispered in your ear. You gulped, nodded. "Use your words, sweetheart," and his voice was rugged, wretched, as both his hands slid careful fingertips up on your ribcage.

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered.

He huffed against you. And then his metal hand engulfed your breast, knead it the way he wanted, and his lips found your neck. You whimpered, taken by surprise by his sudden act of devotion. His tender fingers pulling your nipple, drumming against your ribs, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses up your jugular.

When he kissed you, his mouth was warm and wet, and he molded his lips to yours carefully, like he didn't want to scare you off.

You kissed him back just as carefully, confused and distraught, unaware that for years, Bucky had been yearning for this opportunity. For this moment where he finally had you alone.

Quickly, the kiss became rougher. Your hands pulled at the soft, thick strands of his hair and he pulled you aainst his with his metal arm around your waist. He nipped at you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, groaning as his flesh finger felt you.

He skimmed along your navel, until he could cup you in his palm. You squeaked, taken by surprise. "Easy there, princess," he whispered against your mouth. "Just wanna make you feel good."

He dove right back for a kiss, delving his tongue behidn your teeth while his fingers started working circles around your clit.

You had realized how riled up he'd gotten you, like a hardwire ready to snap.

You bent like a bow in his arms, moaning against his mouth as his fingers continued to circle your clit in slow, languid circles. And when he prodded farther, where you most ached for him, he moaned against your mouth when he felt just how soaked you were.

"Fuck, y/n," he groaned, pulling his mouth from yours.

You almost whimpered at the lost of contact, but he picked you up so effortlessly, so quickly, that you hadn't registered that you were now sitting on the edge of the sink until you couldn't see him anymore. All you could see was the steam rising from the shower, clogging the bathroom, settling on your skin in dotted water drops.

And Bucky, on his knees, pulling your knees apart. His eyes, hooded and so blue, looked up at you as he kissed the inside of your thigh.

"One leg on my shoulder, baby," he ordered, his metal hand under your thigh, helped you move until you were almost straddling his face. "That's it, good girl," he groaned, biting into the plush of your thighs.

The angle sent you backward, back against the cold mirror, and one hand hanging onto the edge. Ready to plummet or fly, you couldn't tell.

His mouth teetered around your pussy, kissing along your thighs, until he settled over your clit and gave you one long swipe of his tongue.

Your head fell backwards, eyes closing, hips searching for his mouth.

"You taste so sweet," he cooed, pressing another long lick from your hole to your clit.

A strangled moan escaped your clenched teeth when he sucked on your clit, one of your hands digging into his hair and pulling him where you wanted him.

The room was filled with the filthy sound of Bucky getting his fill, lapping you up and sucking in your clit like a man starved. Both hands leaving ink-blue marks in your hips.

He worshipped your clit, flicking and sucking to a rhythm that had your thighs shaking against his face, with you pulling his hair by the roots. He sucked and fucked your hole with his tongue until a knot formed right under your belly button and exploded in white hot lightning.

As your orgasm washed through you in waves, rocking against his face, a moan hitched in your throat.

Bucky held your thighs open, refusing to let them close, and lapped up his fill.

When you were but a trembling, babbling mess, Bucky it into your thigh, kissing up your knee until he was standing between your legs. His eyes were hooded, pupils blown, mouth red and glittering, swollen from the kisses he'd lain on your clit.

"Come 'ere," he groaned, grabbing you by the back of the neck, bringing you upright on the counter. He brought his mouth to yours in a feverish, harsh kiss that left you dizzy and scrambling to keep up with him.

You pushed him away, grappling at his shirt, pulling it over his head. You gorged on the sight, on the tanned skin exposed, the scar where his metal shoulder meshed with his flesh. You touched the tips of your fingers to his metal shoulder, skimming down to his hand.

He took your mouth again, pressing you back into the mirror, hands in your hair, on your breast, skimming down back to your dripping hole.

He entered one flesh finger, pressing against your walls, so slippery and warm. He hummed, feeling your breasts against his chest as you bowed your back at the sensation.

You patted him through his pants, feeling him warm and hard against your touch. He hissed at the sensation, nipping at your mouth.

He continued to move his digit in and out of you, pressing his palm to your clit. You continued palming him, pressing against the impressive length of him until he groaned and took himself out of his pants, dropping them at his ankles and kicking them away.

Your mouth opened in a small 'o' at the sight of him, hard and thick, tip dripping precum.

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he asked, pressing his forehead to yours, thumbs on each side of your jaw.

You shook your head, gulped, saw the faint smile that crossed his face. He watched you with keen eyes as he lined himself with your soaked heat.

He pressed his thumb against your mouth, kissing you, as he slowly inched in. He watched you take it, watched as your mouth opened, brows curving upward.

"Don't give up on me baby," he whispered, nipping at your mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw.

He slid himself to the hilt, grabbing your hip in a bruising grip, metal hand pressed against the foggy mirror over your head.

You gasped, latching onto his shoulders for dear life as he pulled back and thrust back into you, feeling you clench and flitter around him.

You whimpered, body pressing up against the mirror with one harsh thrust from his hips.

"That feel good, huh?" he asked, boring his eyes into yours, keeping a slow, languid pace with his hips. "Tell me, y/n, that feel good when I fuck you?"

You nodded, feeling him slick, sliding into you with ease, stretching your walls and hitting that spot deep in you that made you writhe.

"Yes, Bucky," you answered, breathlessly, scratching at his flesh shoulder.

He groaned, taking your mouth with his, speeding up his thrusts, making your head catch on the mirror. You moaned against his mouth, giving up full control of your body to his, at the mercy of every thrust, every change in rhythm.

"Taking me so well," he grunted, hiding his face in your shoulder, bruising grip on your hip helping him thrust himself deeper into you. Then he pulled himself up, face hovering over yours, searching your gaze wildly. "You like it when I fucked this tight little hole?" he asked, and again, his tone was scratching the surface of something wilder.

You nodded, feeling a knot form in your belly, your thighs closing around his hips. His mouth stretched into a smile, pounding deeper and faster into you. "Yeah, you do," he said, almost mockingly, pressing a sweaty forehead to yours. "I see the way you always look at me," he grunted, kissing your mouth, humming at the moan that left your lips.

"Bucky, please," you whispered, eyes falling shut, your orgasm on the brink of breaking.

"I feel you, y/n, come on," he grunted, keeping a harsh, pounding pace until your legs shook and your orgasm broke through you in waves. "Fuck, that's so tight," he breathed, chasing his own end, pounding into your tightening hole.

A stuttered moan left your lips as you clung to Bucky, rocking into your orgasm with every thrust, feeling the wave of pleasure reach your toes. His metal hand came slamming onto the mirror beside your ear, cracking into the glass as he pounded into you, breathless and wordless until he gave you a few sloppy thrusts and he was spending himself in you.

He stayed there a few moments, breathing with you, kissing you softly until he pulled out of you. You stuttered, a breath hitched in your throat, as you felt him leaking out of you.

He met your gaze, leaning back to examine his work, and then he slowly helped you to your feet. You giggled at your loss of coordination, hearing Bucky chuckle too as he helped you into the shower.

You let the warm spray wash his seed from the inside of your thighs, soak into your hair.

"Warm enough?" he asked, chin on your shoulder.

You chuckled. "I've been warm enough for a little while."

He hummed, placing both hands along your waist. He helped you wash up, lathering your skin and hair, helping you wash out the suds.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. "You're quiet."

"Yes," you answered, looking over your shoulder at him. "Are you?"

He smiled, eyes low. He raised his brows. "I am now," he whispered.

When you were done with the shower and you were both drying up, Bucky tied his towel around his waist and watched you put your hair up in a towel.

"What?" you asked.

He snorted. "It isn't like me to do...this," he said, leaning against the sink. His chest was wet, glistening spots lingering down to his abs. It was enough to make you want to do this again.

You smiled but didn't answer, focused on getting your towel around your torso.

"Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?" he asked, and you looked up, met his eyes across the steamy bathroom, and smiled.

"Yeah, of course."

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky x you #bucky x yn #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #smut #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier

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