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deadghosy · 9 months ago

Note

How would (Separate) Hazbin hotel (Demons &Angel) react to a green thumb gardener whose elegant, classy and attractive and she went to hell by mistake but it was a happy one (She's not completely weak as she has her plant to protect her and everything)

HAZBIN HOTEL X GARDENER! READER

prompt: a common mistake made demons and angels swoon over a gardener who just wants to take care of her/his plants

cw! Sir Pentious is alive for this so he can witness your beauty in flowers💗

note! I listened to Lana Del Rey while making this lol.

HELL

You didn’t know you were supposed to be in heaven as you started your own flower shop. It was the biggest know hell flower store with actual flowers.

You were practically poison ivy, but more kind and definitely calmer. Hell, even some of your regulars call you poison ivy. Mostly because if people touch you metaphorically the wrong way, then you technically show them a harsher side of you. Literally, a plant impaled a sinner trying to rob your store.

What you didn’t except to get friends or even people interested into you as you just have a normal as shop you dreamed of before dying.

“Welcome to my flower shop, what can I help you with?” You said with a soft smile as a flower vine is watering other flowers in the background. Some imps, sinners, and hell borns go all the way to just see you and your flowers.

I can see you wearing a flower crown or just flowers in your hair. Like dead ass giving rapunzel. Possibly so, your alive flowers and vines had made that for you as you worked.

You most definitely wear those cute gardening outfits like overalls or those dresses if you prefer one of them or both.

See this is what I can imagine, I can imagine the whole damn hotel having a flower competition and you show up with a big ass plant with a neat pink bow on it 😭. You definitely had a smile as you drank tea with a secret smirk.

I can see you visiting the hotel Charlie has as she invited you to do some flower decor for a reopening of the hotel.

Imagine how pissed you were when a couple of sinners came in to make your shop look like shit. But you wasn’t gonna stand for it as you raised your hand grabbing the sinners by their necks with vines. “If you want flowers, I wouldn’t mind making you a funeral for you to have some.” You said with venom as the sinner practically shitted themselves as they were thrown out the windows of your shop.

A sinner had thrown a Molotov cocktail once in your shop all because he thought it was weird to have a “girly” flower shop in hell. As the fire spreads in your shop, you sighed having plant vines cover you in a big ball as one of the vine slither to find the culprit. After finding the culprit, you forced them to clean your shop since killing someone for such a petty crime like that in your opinion isn’t worth killing. You can always make a new shop and fix it.

Vaggie most definitely knows you as you hooked her up with flowers that Charlie might like. You told her Charlie seems like a simple girl would just like roses since they represent romance. And basically it was Vaggie and Charlie’s date night. And it was a success.

Angel dust loves how you don’t judge him for who he is by his work. But he definitely loves how you two gossip over some tea, well he drinks while you drink tea or water. You are like an older sister/brother figure to him. He loves resting in your bean bag you have in the back, he could just come in and and lay down straight.

I headcannon your whole palette to be like green, pink, yellow and white. Literally just spring ass colors to seem classy with your flower shop.

I can imagine you having the personality of applejack but more of a flower and gardening person as gardener! Reader were most definitely born in the south. Like I can imagine reader to be a mix of applejack, rarity, fluttershy but 100% of applejack’s honesty and a lot of Rarity’s elegance.

Niffty adores you! Literally she goes in your store to rant about she wants the hotel to smell fresh and ready. And you hook a sista up with how you give her scented plug in. She immediately starts worshipping you like Alastor which makes Alastor raise a brow seeing a shine of you in her room and drawings of you.

Charlie immediately loves how vaggie and angel ador you and find you as a loyal friend. She would love to have you at the hotel as a resident. She could even beg Alastor or her dad to make a flower shop for you to even stay longer by briding. She would also try to become your friend for her to succeed.

Sir Pentious went to your store to apologize again to Alastor as he felt that Alastor didn’t forgave him. He was scared you weren’t a kind “sinner” that only had a flower shop to scam people for their money. But when you spoke with kindness and care towards the snake demon. He felt calm in your presence, to the point when he got his flowers. He gave you one which made you smile at him and put it in your hair. He blushed and ran off.

The egg boiz love too appear in your store as their boss, penthouse is very nervous to talk to such an attractive person like you. You welcome the eggz to your humble store as you give them flowers to give back to the hotel staffs.

Angel and Cherri most definitely asked you to give them flowers to match their personality. You gave them both a Carnation flower which you thought was good for their personality. Or even a Lilly.

Husk kept seeing the crew leave the hotel to see them come back with flowers. He grumble confused at why they kept getting flowers. That is until he asked Charlie, and Charlie ranted about what a beauty and how kind you are. Husk raised a brow thinking you were putting up an act, so he went to see you. Let’s just say he got a rose coming back with a soft smile and a purr.

The Vee’s heard about you, Vox heard about you first and looked you up to see you are a popular florist and gardener with the power of Chlorokinesis. The power to mentally and physically control flowers. Vox smirked hearing about your 5 star rating shop. If it was that high ranked with people commenting it on yelp saying you were the best business to be at. You definitely got his attention at most.

Lucifer went to your store for some flowers to give to his daughter, and when he heard how amazing your store was. He went to se it himself. He definitely felt your pure spirit making him stumble into confusion on why you weren’t in heaven already. But he got his flowers and felt with a cup of tea you gave him. He shortly came back at the end of the day to give you his own flowers as he smiled with a snake smile and left leaving a note that says, “you’re welcome to come stay at the hotel! :)”

Alastor finally decided to meet you after hearing all the good things you did for the hotel and for the staff. He must say he was jealous how you won their hearts so damn quickly. He went to your store to see what’s all the fuss about and got hit with a lavender scent in his nose. He covered it as he wasn’t use to such sweet smell in hell as it’s filled with fire and blood. And there you were sitting there with a smile as warm plate of teas sat by you. You welcomed him as he made chat with you to find your heart pure with gold. He also left with a rose and a genuine smile.

I imagine how sweet you get your own flowers by regulars and your friends at the hotel as they love your passion about plants.

Headcannon on Gardner! Reader to be a Lana Del Rey fan as the song to match her/him is “born to die” 💗🦆

Vox was obviously the first Vee to meet you face to face as he had researched you so many times on the internet to get any scoop of you to only end up with an empty hand. So he decided to see you in person and smile with a charming one to see you greet him with a smile and show him the recommended flowers for loved one and family. He was not into the flowers as he watched the plant vines in the back work like hands. He smirks trying to use his hypnosis, but failed greatly as a flower in a vase covered his sighting of you. Thanks to your plant vines.

Velvette was the second one to come to your store as she was not impressed at how “boring and plain” it was in your shop. She was snarky about the decor and gave you tips on how to make it “pop” in here. You just smiled, and with a snap of your fingers, the decor changed to a more fashionable flower place. It made the female Vee almost drop her jaw and composure. But she can’t let some flower store shock her. So she left with one last snarky comment under her breath.

Valentino definitely came in last to see what was up with your whole popularity of your “business” of flowers as he was so busy working his porn industry. So when he walked in yo see you reaching for some flower seeds to get for a customer. He grabbed your waist, wanting to seem flirty only for it to backfire as a vine punches him away from you. You already knew who this bastard was, and you weren’t gonna let him get you like how he got angel. So during his entire visit at your shop, you made it a living hell. Literally.

I can see the Vee’s coming back every weekday to try and get you to be their little flower pet, but you ain’t buying it. 😘

You most definitely have a vine hammock in the corner of your store as you just sit there and nap during your breaks.

Imagine how cool and sweet you are to the imp and hell born children that come to visit your store for father day and mother day. Hell, even valentines days

I can headcannon that gardener! Reader has once in their hell life down there had to drag out a rude Karen ass bitch by their hair. You fuck with their plants, you fuck with them.

Imagine how chill you are just sipping tea as your plants and vines attack some dude trying to steal your sunflower seeds. Yeah, no one gets out without being traumatized by plants 😍

You came into the hotel once and immediately got love bombed by everyone. But not in a manipulate way, they just appreciate how amazing you are to people even the staff at most. They go as far to throw you a “welcoming” party 💗

Lucifer had most definitely sent ducks with mini flower crowns and a Gardner duck to you as he finds you very elegant and beautiful in your own way. He even accidentally tries to court you with his wings when he leans against at the front desk of your store staring into your eyes.

HEAVEN

Adam had eventually was sent to take you back into heaven as sera realized her mistake. You willingly went with Adam who smirked at your sweet smile and took you up by your hand. Like, let’s say whatever happened in the hell section didn’t happen as you just had a bad time in hell itself.

St. Peter immediately greets you, making feel welcome to your new home. He even baked you cookies with a smiley face. He tries to make chit chat with you when he isn’t on duty getting people into the gates. He literally visits your workplace in the flower store you own, bringing cookies, making sure you are okay. Hell-, I meannn heaven gods..he must be a househusband cause GYATT DAMN this man is making sure you are well and healthy in heaven’s care. 💗💗

Sera most definitely have showed you around heaven with a please smile to see a Gardner. You would’ve been great for the Garden of Eden, is what she says in her head as you smile at the trees and potted plants around. You even showed the seraphim your powers, and she must say that she was pleased and made you a gardener around heaven and even your own garden shop and house.

Emily most definitely tries to go visit you everyday to try and find flowers that match you so you can be surprise when she buys you flowers herself. You and Emily definitely have a sibling relationship at most because of how she looks up to you in a gardening way as she also wants to impress you by making her own garden and green house. She also makes sure you take breaks as she wants to help with the customers as you take a break in the back. Your friendship with her is so wholesome and lovely.

Adam likes how classy you are, you don’t even cuss him out when you are angry at him. You just put your hand in his face and walk away. Sassy, but classy enough to not curse someone the fuck out. Yeah sure that might’ve turned him on a bit at how hot and “bitchy” that was of you. Cause no one has ever rejected the “Dickmaster”. So it was his duty to make you his friend…sorta😨. But it’s all fun and games at how you guys are like frenemies at most since Adam actually can’t stand you, but still flirts at how attractive and kind you are. Hell even strong minded.

The angels absolutely love coming in your store! They find every single plant and flower you made incredible. You practically almost run out of business when it’s Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. But you can’t complain when they leave so much heaven bucks for you to get more plant seeds and such. The angels also love how pure of gold your heart is as you even give some off free for the heaven borns and winners.

Big headcannon on how your Gardner outfit in heaven, the palette is a soft green and pink pastel. But Adam and Sera had thought about you wearing a gold, white, and blue type of Gardner outfit. They want you to stay pure and mighty.

OOOH IMAGINE HAVING CUTE ASS WHITE GLOVES 😭😭 LIKE THEY HAVE THOSE STITCHED IN GOLD THREADS AND LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE AND COMFY INSIDEEE💗💗

Since i headcannon that Gardner! Reader to be a damn Lana Del Rey fan, their song that matches them in heaven is “young and beautiful.” As you are young and beautiful and mostly, you’re in heaven.

Literally imagine Adam just shows up to just degrade you, but it doesn’t work as you just sit there reading your daily newspaper or on your phone to just see plant and gardening instagram from earth and heaven. Adam pouts or even scoffs before taking your phone and acting like a fussy cat wanting attention.

You really don’t give a fuck about Adam but he definitely gives a fuck about you.

The angels sometimes ships you with Adam, but they also ship you with st.peter at how he is basically the house husband and you are the girl boss who works their ass off😭

Lute and Adam are definitely the type to be those teens who visit their local market..dead ass when they are free they just come to your store and just start “window shopping”…but really they just either want to mess with you or actually know about your day.

I can see you literally just chilling, and Adam busts open the store door that has that jingle bell on it so harsh and all he says is. “Wassup bitch!” With his usual grin and a soda cup as you just groan annoyed.

St.peter literally tried to work beside you ok his days off to just see how “calming” your job is. Until rush hour comes😭 that’s when hell itself unleashes with people wanting to grab any scented flower candles and flowers for theirselves. Have mercy on Peter’s soul that he doesn’t get grabbed and clawed all because he said that the last product was in the back. 😭😭

Imagine how cute your damn angel wings must be. Cause I imagine them to be some god damn fairy wings to match a beautiful aesthetic with your flower and gardening store.

I headcannon you actually had thrown Adam like how vaggie thrown the staff like in the episode of “scramble eggs.”

lol I can see you just slapping Adam with your plant vine because of one misogynist joke he made. He had the most whip lashed mark on his face. He stopped making those fücking jokes like that as he just flinches as a vine comes near him. “WALK HIM LIKE A DOGGG!!” 😘😍

Sera loves gaining flowers from you as the angelic guards bring them in as she is doing her work.

Emily also feels the same way as she smiles and makes the guard send you flowers as well for a thank you. 💗🥺 please give this sweet baby a note back saying you appreciate her damn note so much..

Imagine having a whole tea and cookie station by your front desk where people pay. Like they get a nice drink and a snack in case they were hungry and thirsty from their trip to here. 😘☀️ you care about your customers and regulars deeply.

St. Peter had one time mistook the glass doors to be opened and fell back so dramatically onto his ass, he might as well confirm himself as dead 💀

Emily most definitely actually tried to grow a plant or flower to show you how much she learnt from you, only for the damn thing to fail. She wanted to cry and shrivel up in disappointment, but you taught her and help fixed her mistake on what she did at most.

Lute most definitely acts better without Adam, of course she could act better with Adam. It’s just that Adam is her home dog, and she is Adam’s homegirl. So of course they are besties. So with Adam not interfering with you and lute talking one on one for the first time. You two get quite long to the point she grabs your hands and smile. Leaving with a flower you gave her.

Your plants just causally changing into the liked flower of the customer or regular due to your plant magic on sensing what flowers they like supposedly💗

Headcannon on how short you are. Literally you are shorter than lute to Adam and Emily. It’s really funny but to you, it’s annoying asf since Adam picks you up like a stray cat found at the front porch ready to be taken in.

Emily and sera would have tea time with you definitely. Or coffee if they prefer. You don’t gossip of course but just lift each other up and talk about hanging out later in the days or weeks later. Heck even the day later maybe if Emily is very eager.

Lute most definitely had thrown flowers in your face as she isn’t use to showing affection towards a person she actually admires. Yeah she admires Adam, as a boss and best friend. But there is something about you that makes her stumble on her words.

You had to actually stay home once, forced by sera who got told by Adam you were overworking yourself. Adam and sera hated it as sera showed go to your job looking serious. Forcing you to stay in bed until you had a good sleep for the week.

Imagine just gardener! Reader literally accidentally making Adam spit out a four leaf clover as they were saying a spell in Latin to have four leaf clovers for St. Patrick’s day.

I headcannon Adam sometimes tries to court you with his wings, and you are confused as hell as you aren’t use to being courted by some fucking feathers.

I can see you having a potted plant pet beside you. It was practically a sapling as it smiled with heaven magic and told positive affirmations to waking customers. It’s so fuckin adorable

I imagine you just sleeping as your overworked at your store and Adam comes in pissed off you didn’t come home. So he literally picks you up over his shoulder and walks Home. He has the damn key to your house but he decides to just go to his house and lay you on his bed as he sleeps on the couch grumbling.

St.Peter, after that little incident with him walking into a glass door. This mofo literally puts his hands out towards any glass door 😭 like a little kid being traumatized after a glass maze. It’s so funny but so sad.

A young heaven born had brought you back a freaking flower crown in your most favorite flowers and you were so amazed. You gave the small little angel a flower crown of their own.

The visits are always welcomed to your store as Adam brings you his own set of flowers to try to impress you. 💗 you snickered seeing the note that says, “i hope you like it..bitch. *middle finger drawing* I heard this plant was your favorite.” Sweet, but sour ass motherfuker. 😭😭

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saint-ambrosef · 7 months ago

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newbie's guide to produce

for all my peers who were not taught how to shop for veggies and fruit on a budget and struggle to use them before they go bad:

(disclaimer: prices are approximate based on where i live in the Southern US. costs may be higher in your area, but the comparison of cost should still be valuable.)

cheap produce year-round:

roma tomatoes. if they look under-ripe you can leave them on the counter for a few days. keeps in fridge for about 2 weeks. $1/lb.

cucumbers. around here they're 50-60 cents each. go bad quickly though, about 1 week in fridge.

celery. two bucks for a head. starts to get sad after two weeks in fridge. only makes sense if you like to snack on celery or make soups often.

corn. whole ears are like 20cents each mid-summer, otherwise just get frozen. $1.50 for a lb.

peas. get these puppies frozen for $1.50/lb. good protein, too.

romaine lettuce. one head is good for several small salads, about $2 and lasts a week in fridge. the big boxes/multi-packs may seem like a better deal but not if it all goes bad before you can eat it.

onions. kind of a given but you can get regular yellow varietals for less than a buck per pound. will last for 1-2 months in pantry.

potatoes. you can get 5lb bags of russets for three bucks. sweet potatoes are a lil over $1/lb. last 2-3 months in pantry; if they grow sprouts, you can cut those off and still eat it.

bananas. dirt cheap. a small bunch (4-5) costs like a dollar. if they go over-ripe before you eat them all just get less or get a few green ones (p.s: you're allowed to break them off larger clumps).

radishes. $1.50 for a little bundle. greens get wilty after a week, roots will last 2 weeks (you can use both parts).

hot peppers. poblano, jalapeno, etc., are often quite cheap and you usually don't need very many anyways. few weeks fridge or counter.

cheap produce when in season:

summer squash. in summertime (duh), zucchini and yellow squash are like $1.25/lb. only last a week or so though in fridge.

winter squash. actually in season in fall, these are your butternuts and acorn squash. less than $1/lb then. lasts in pantry for months.

green beans. in warm months they can be on sale for $1.50/lb! last 1.5-2 weeks in fridge? (kinda depends on the shape they're in)

kale. it's a cool-season green that commonly is on sale in colder months. $1.60 for a big bunch, about 1.5 weeks in fridge before it gets seriously wilty. (can be eaten cooked or raw!)

apples. fall/winter, usually at least one variety on sale for $1.25/lb. last forever.

oranges. most citrus are winter fruits. $1/lb. will last forever in your fridge.

strawberries. spring. at their peak, i can find them for $2/lb. otherwise they are too expensive.

watermelon. $8 for big 10lb melons. they can take up a ton of space though and need to be refrigerated once cut/ripe.

cantaloupe. another summer star! $1.50 each on sale. they will slow ripen in the fridge but you do have to keep an eye on it.

pineapple. $1.50 in summer time. might be ripe even when still a bit green, ready when they smell noticeably ripe.

pears. fall season, sometimes into winter. $1.20/lb. last 1-2 weeks on the counter or forever in the fridge.

pomegranate. in winter time they can be found for $2 each. tricky to peel though.

peaches. and nectarines (which are just fuzzless peaches). $1.25/lb in summer and will last for weeks in your fridge.

eggplants. summertime veggie, you can get for $1.50 when they're on sale. otherwise a bit pricey. keep in fridge for 2 weeks.

mid-range produce:

cabbage. three bucks for a 2-lb head but you can get a lot out of it. will keep 3-4 weeks in the fridge but any exposed cut sides will start moldering after a week.

mushrooms. white button or baby bella. $1.50 for 8oz. keep in mind, mushrooms halve in size after cooking. ~2 weeks though.

avocados. if you live in the South like me, small hass varietals are 60-80 cents apiece in winter. ripe when it gives just a little to squeezing (you can't go off color alone).

broccoli. fresh is $1.70ish per head and lasts a week in fridge. frozen is $1.50/lb but might be kind of mushy.

most greens. spring mixes, spinach, arugula, etc can really vary in price but often fall into a few bucks at least per bundle/package. in a fridge's humidity drawer they last 1-2 weeks.

kiwis. i love them but they're a bit pricey for their size. 50 cents each. their keep depends on how ripe they are at purchase.

expensive produce:

asparagus. one of the most expensive veggies. sometimes in spring you can get it for $2/lb (a steal but still a bit much). lasts 1.5 weeks.

brussel sprouts. same as above.

red or yellow bell peppers. they are used sooo often in recipes and it annoys me. often $1.50-2.00 each. last a long time in fridge.

caluiflower. three bucks for a head. yikes!

green beans. when they're not in season, they are like $3/lb.

snap peas. same as above, except they never seem to be on sale.

raspberries. go bad in 3 days and cost an arm and a leg. sometimes when they're in season you can get them for like $2 per half-pint as a treat.

blueberries and blackberries. even when they're in season, they're still $2 per pint.

grapes. they can sorta be affordable in the fall season for $2/lb, but otherwise they're double that. and usually you have to commit to buying several pounds. last 2 weeks in fridge.

plums. i love them so so much but they're only in season for like 2 weeks of the year it seems and they're like $3/lb.

inexpensive accoutrements: (for garnishes, seasoning, etc)

limes. 25cents apiece. they'll start to dry out after 1 week on the counter so keep them in the fridge unless you will use it soon.

lemons. usually 50cents each for the small varietals. keep same as above.

green onions. less than a dollar for a bunch, and you can easily regrow a few times at home if you stick the white rooted end in water by a window.

cilantro. 50cents. will last WAY longer (1-2 weeks) if you keep it in a mug of water in the fridge.

parsley. 85cents. same as above.

obviously sticking just with popularly available produce across the country. it's not an exhaustive list but can give you a bit more perspective on what produce you should be focusing on if you're trying to work with a tight grocery budget. good luck!

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idliketobeatree · 9 months ago

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bright yellow bentley is as subtle a metaphor as a brick okay i get it. aziraphale thinks crowley's eyes are pretty. understood. it's not enough. in s3 i need him to tell outright everything that is so so lovable about crowley, make a list longer than bildad's licence to kill from god. he has to be showered in praise both visual and personality-wise until he turns inside out Twice as a snake, from sheer embarassment

and!! i need crowley to get back at the angel in the same notion, but the effect is that aziraphale takes 5 mandatory seconds to process the compliments and immediately pounces on him like a cat on a bean bag

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #ineffable spouses #i am. emotional about them appreciating each other. and complimenting both crowley and aziraphale in my tags is a full-time job #*shrugs* they should be doing it #marcela talks

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luveline · 1 year ago

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omg if u ever get the chance would you write a follow up for the eddie and shy!reader where they confess? 🥺🩵

first part (u don't have to read if u don't want to) fem!shy!reader and best friend eddie confess, 1.6k

You flick a piece of popcorn off of your knee and smack Eddie square in the cheek. His neck snaps to the side to stare at you, tongue in his cheek in indignation.

"That how it is?" he asks.

You smile mock-demurely. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

It's too close to flirting to deny at this point, but Eddie doesn't ever seem to notice. You've been friends for so long that this slow decline into playfulness feels normal.

Eddie digs for the rogue piece of popcorn on the couch cushion behind his shoulders and prepares to flick it back. You cover your face.

"Hey! Cheating, put your hands down."

"No, you'll flick popcorn at me."

The popcorn hits you in the hand. You drop your hands, but quickly retreat into yourself on the bean bag in apprehension as he approaches, a devilish smile playing on his pretty mouth. "Eddie, please don't–" You groan as he drops his weight on top of you, kneeing the back of your thigh hard. "You fucking–"

"Remember when we first met? You never would've cussed at me," he interrupts, boldly putting his hands on you, one at your neck and the other against your cheek.

You wiggle under him. "Get off."

He takes a handful of popcorn from the bucket by your side. It smells sweet like taffy, and a kernel falls from his palm onto your shirt as he eats it. You flick it at him.

"You're aggressively aggressive," he says through chews.

"You're heavier than you look."

"When we first met," he says, poking your cheek with his pinky, you assume so as not to get popcorn crumbs on you, "you could barely look me in the eye."

"That's just 'cos you're scruffy."

"Funny."

Eddie wipes his hand in his shirt and grabs your face again. You go still at his touch, trying to maintain a facade of calm you don't feel.

"This is nicer. I love when you get all shy," —his voice softens slowly, like a meandering river calmed— "your smile… you smile when you're nervous, you know that?"

You tamp your expression into neutrality. "Do not."

"But it's nicer now that you're not nervous all the time. You're not telling me things, but I can handle it."

"I tell you things," you mumble.

Eddie locks eyes with you. He rubs your jaw with his knuckles teasingly, before climbing off of you with an apologetic pat to your knee. His positioning had been less than comfortable. You sit up with a sigh, leg and chest aching.

"You tell me some things," he says.

"I tell you pretty much everything."

"Liar." He crosses his legs, sitting applesauce by the mantle. Sunlight coming in from the kitchen behind him has his hair like silver at the edges where it falls around his face, his arms tense where he holds his own elbows.

"I'm not lying, you know anything worth knowing about me."

It's hard to make out, but you can tell you've upset him. You aren't sure how, but he goes rigid, looking away from you and toward the TV. His side profile knocks the breath out of you, lashes long where they kiss the skin beneath his brows, his nose a strong line you'd like to reach out and trace.

"Eddie–"

"It's alright, I didn't mean anything by it."

The bean bag groans as you kneel on the rug by Eddie's legs. You look around helplessly for aid, and when none comes you drag the popcorn toward you, eating a mouthful morosely.

"I'm sorry for being weird, I just…" Eddie leans back on one arm and whines. "I think I'm getting my meriod."

"That's not funny."

He puts a hand on his stomach. "Do I look bloated to you?"

"I don't know where to start with that one."

Eddie falls onto his back. His act doesn't last very long, and after a few moments he's frowning at the TV again. You look down into the popcorn kernels, white and yellow and brown and fragrant when you give the tub a little shake. You push it away.

"Don't be sad, Eds. If there's something you want me to tell you, I'll tell you."

You're aflame as you say it, because why the fuck would you say that? There's no way he'll want to know what you're afraid to tell him, he'll never ask, but still. It's like offering to jump into turbulent waters.

"I just don't want you holding onto stuff, that's all. Kinda breaks my heart thinking you're a bag of secrets."

"What if it's stuff you don't wanna hear?" you ask with a dry mouth.

"I always wanna hear it if it's coming from you. Can't promise I'll like it, but what, you think I'm gonna care?"

"It's hard to say."

He gestures for you to lay down with him.

You set your shoulder by his and lay down cautiously. Your thigh bumps into his. A line of rings catches the light where his hand covers his ribs.

"I don't want to tell you something about me and have you see me differently," you say slowly, each word strung to the other clumsily as you piece your sentence together. "I like how you treat me now."

"What if I swear things won't change?"

"I don't…" He sounds like he knows you like him. Impossible to describe, only that you know the truth, so he must know the truth too. "You can't, really. Promise me that."

He turns his head to yours, his hair dragging gentle across your shoulder as he moves. You feel his gaze like a flame on your cheek.

"I swear," he murmurs. "Nothing will change. Nothing you don't want to change."

You turn toward him, heart in your mouth, meeting his baby brown eyes head on. You shift your head against the floor to take the weight of it off of your ear, your chin lifting subtly.

This is going to rip your chest open. "I think I'm," —Eddie leans forward, he closes the gap, "in love–"

You can't finish your sentence. Like a magnetic pull, Eddie fits his lips against the seam of your own and you close it, alarmed, not sure how to respond. He cuts your face softly and pushes up, encouraging you to kiss back.

"Wait," you say, eyes painfully open.

Eddie immediately moves away from you. "Sorry," he says, his eyes just as open, twice as wide, "was I not supposed– you're not talking about me?"

"I'm in love with you," you say.

"Yeah, I guessed?"

"I don't know why you're being cranky with me, we both know I won't be able to say it again."

Your throat totally closes as he rubs your cheek, like there's dirt under his thumb. "I've been thinking about kissing you for months, sweetheart," he says. He looks like he might say more, but he leans in again.

You sigh at his touching, his gentle kiss. He smiles into you, sitting up to kiss down with slightly more force. Eddie takes the lead, cradling your face in hands you've never felt so adoringly tender before. His hair starts to tip onto your cheek like strands of silk.

"I think you'll be okay," he says, breaking the kiss to pant in breath. He rubs the tip of his nose into yours.

"There's popcorn in my teeth, please don't kiss me again," you say quietly.

"I love you. I don't care if we swap kernels for the next hour."

"Hour?" you ask, though you're thrumming with a strange anticipation. The reality hasn't dropped, but it's falling fast.

"I've been waiting months," he reminds you, lips at your cheek as he needles his arms under your shoulders. He hugs you. "Aw, sweetheart. I've been seeing you try to tell me now for months, the whole time thinking I couldn't get any more obsessed with you."

"You're obsessed with me? You knew?" you ask.

"Don't freak out."

"I'm gonna."

"Okay, fine, freak out."

You hug him, burying your nose in his hair. He's soft, and warm, and he's heavy where he leans on your chest, but it's perfect. You wonder if this is the precipice of forever now, if you get to have him in your arms like this all the time. You freak out.

"You're in love with me?" you ask.

"Sickeningly."

"I think my face is on fire."

Eddie peels back to look you over. "You're melting," he says agreeably. "But lucky you, your best friend gives the coolest kisses ever."

"You're gonna make it worse."

"Can I?" he asks.

"I have popcorn in my teeth," you whine again.

Eddie knows you better than anyone in the whole wide world. He demands you open your mouth for kernel extraction and you burst into squeamish giggles, squirming out from his arms and whacking your head on the seat of the couch. Eddie chases after you to start a wrestling match you can't win. He doesn't break his promise —the things you don't want to change stay the same. And the things you do want to change? They're perfect, even if it all tastes overwhelmingly of butter and toffee.

i hope you enjoyed reading!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Summary: June brings the end of Harris's preschool career and the official beginning of your new life as a family of three--with a little help from your friends, of course.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), p in v, mentions of phone sex, grief and loss

WC: 7.8k

Chapter 20/20

A/N: With the official end of Trapped Under Ice, I am now opening up requests in the TUI universe. Thank you all for taking this journey with me as I processed my own grief. As long as you keep requesting, I will continue writing for our little family 💚

Thank you to @rip-quizilla for making that scene stronger. Ily, bb.

Divider credit to @saradika

The diner is bustling with customers, happily chatting over stacks of pancakes and overstuffed omelets. Coffee carafes clink against chipped mugs as the waitstaff pours refill after refill.

You weave through the rows of tables, careful not to bump into servers balancing trays of food or busboys carrying the used dishes and silverware. A small yellow gift bag is clutched in your hand, and you hold it to your chest to protect its fragile contents.

Harris spots you before you can see him; his little arm shoots up from where he’s tucked into the booth next to Wayne.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he frantically waves, his grin wide enough to stretch off of his cheeks. “Over here!”

You laugh, watching as Eddie scoots from the middle of the seat to the end, making room for you to sit down. There are two steaming cups on his side of the table, centered on little saucers that are likely older than you are.

“Morning, baby,” he greets you with a smile, leaning in to give you a small kiss—no tongue, of course—as you slide in next to him. “You sleep okay last night?”

You nod sheepishly, remembering the phone conversation the two of you had had, well after Harris fell asleep. Eddie’s sultry voice had guided you through touching yourself; the next-best thing to having his own fingers inside you.

“Wish I could be there right now,” he’d murmured into the receiver, so low that you could barely hear him. The faint sound of his own fly being lowered punctuated his words. “Wanna make you feel so good, Sweetheart, but I know you’re being a good girl f’me tonight, aren’t you?”

You bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping to blame the heat creeping up your face on the drink, and take a hearty sip. It’s a little sweet, but mostly bitter. Just how you like it.

The crinkling tissue paper as you lean back in the booth draws your attention to your company and away from your indulgent memories. “Happy Father’s Day, Eddie,” you kiss him on the cheek, your lipstick tinting his stubble pink. “This is from me and Harris. Be careful with it.” There’s a deliberate vagueness in your warning, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

Eddie cocks his brow, clearly not expecting any sort of present from you. Shocking, considering you’d taken Harris to the Paint-n-Play on Wednesday during your usual tutoring session time, and you’d figured he would have spilled the beans as soon as he and his dad had a moment alone. He rustles around the bag with dramatic flourish, trying to build anticipation but only succeeding in testing Harris’s patience.

“Open it, Daddy! Open it!” Harris bounces up and down in his seat, mouth sticky and teeth tinted purple with grape juice as he urges Eddie to stop dragging out the process. Wayne discreetly places his palm behind his grandson’s scalp, protecting his head in case he rocks too far back. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart did it together!”

“You did, huh?” Eddie chuckles, pulling out a ceramic mug. It’s painted sky blue, and Harris had insisted on making purple polka dots, splotchy as he’d haphazardly dunked the brush in paint and pressed it to the plaster. Written in bright orange blocky letters is DAD; you’d helped him sound out duhh-ahhh-duhh, his little tongue poking out in complete concentration. Your only visible contribution is the tiny green 1997 painted along the handle, marking the first year you’d celebrated Father’s Day together.

The multitude of complementary colors and mismatched designs should clash. The dots look more like disfigured spiders than circles. The 7 you’d carefully written with a fine-tipped brush is slightly smudged from where Harris had picked up the mug before it had fully dried, and there’s an extra curving line extending from the first D in DAD after he’d started writing the letter backwards.

To Eddie, it’s perfect.

“I love it.” Brown eyes find his son’s hopeful gaze that eagerly awaits his father’s reaction. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” He places the mug on the table next to the coffee-filled one in front of him, tipping its contents into his gift. A few drops dribble down the side, but most of it ends up where it should. A success, in his opinion. He takes a hearty gulp, not caring that the hot liquid singes his taste buds. “Is this magic?” He holds the mug up to his face, studying it like it’s a precious stone. “Because, I swear, it makes this coffee taste better.”

The little boy beams, exchanging an elated glance with you. “Ms. Sweetheart, did you put magic in it?”

Eddie chimes in before you can respond. “I bet she did. She’s sneaky with it; always sprinkling it where you least expect.” His empty hand finds your thigh underneath the table, silently claiming it as his own. “I don’t know how she does it,” he muses wistfully, adding another sugar packet to the mug and swirling it with a spoon until it’s dissolved. Like it was always part of the coffee from the jump.

“Speaking of presents,” Wayne chimes in, unearthing a tiny, newspaper-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and handing it to his nephew. “‘S, not much, but it’s a Father’s-Day-slash-housewarming gift for ya.”

“I thought we agreed on no gifts,” Eddie shakes his head, suddenly self-conscious about arriving empty-handed.

“Well, I lied.”

Wayne watches as Eddie tears into the paper. Whatever home run or double-header had made the front page of the sports section is irrelevant compared to the mystery item that is snugly tucked between baseball stats and the upcoming game schedule.

A small gasp leaves his mouth as he unwraps a wallet-sized picture frame; the word family is etched into the wood right above the plastic-protected photo.

It’s from Harris’s bowling party; the one Wayne had taken of you and Eddie on either side of the birthday boy. Happiness radiates off of the three of you with such intensity that it seems impossible for it to be captured in a still frame. He’d forgotten that Wayne had even snapped it.

“Wayne, I…” Eddie struggles to find the words he needs to properly convey his feelings. The tip of his nose burns with the anticipated influx of emotions. “I’m gonna put it right next to my alarm clock, so it’s the first thing I see every morning.”

You lay your head on his shoulder, the edge of his lips finding your forehead in a half-kiss. He soaks in the comfort you bring, absorbing it through every pore as he exhales and feels himself relax.

The waitress comes over with a notepad and a smile. “You folks ready to order?” She clicks her pen, poised to jot down what the four of you want to eat.

“Chicken fingers, please!” Harris announces, perching up on his knees and leaning his elbows on the table. “With French fries!”

The waitress, whose name tag reads Bee, offers a sympathetic smile and a soft click of her tongue. “I’m sorry, buddy. We don’t start serving lunch until 11:30.”

The boy’s lower lip quivers at the news, having his heart set on eating his favorite food. You can see his perfectly curated routine begin to crumble, taking his excitement with it. “But…but I even said ‘please!’” he insists, voice cracking.

You step in quickly, wanting to salvage the Father’s Day celebration before Hurricane Harris can brew up a storm. “Hey, Har, I know you’re disappointed about the chicken fingers, but I have a super special idea.”

“Wh-What?” Misty eyes indicate that tears still threaten to spill over his lashes.

“When Grandma used to take me to the diner, we used to split silver dollars. They’re pancakes, just smaller.” You take a deep breath and smile, hoping and praying that your plan works. “Would you like to share some silver dollars with me? And we can come back and get chicken fingers another time.”

Harris considers your proposition, rubbing his hands together along his knuckles to soothe himself. Finally, he says, “Can we eat them with syrup?”

“That sounds delicious.” You lean over and ruffle his hair, careful not to let any loose strands land on the table. “You wanna tell the waitress?”

“Mmkay,” he nods, turning to Bee and smiling. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are gonna have the, um, little pancakes.” He frowns, unable to remember the dish’s name. “The dollars?”

Bee laughs and nods, jotting it on her notepad. “An order of silver dollar pancakes, coming right up. And for you gentlemen?” She brings her attention to Eddie and Wayne.

The older man clears his throat, ordering a Western omelet with home fries and rye toast. Eddie asks for the same but with white bread. “And a refill on the coffee,” he adds.

Bee promises to be back shortly with the food, and the four of you resume your conversation.

“We’ll get to take a new picture next week at someone’s graduation,” you say with a smile, looking in Harris’s direction. “Are you excited, Har Bear?”

Harris takes another messy sip of grape juice. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna go to kindergarten soon! But first is summer.”

“Summer first, then kindergarten,” you agree, sipping your coffee before it gets cold. You’re no stranger to it, often setting down your to-go cup at work and forgetting about it until well after morning circle time, but you relish any chance you get to enjoy it while it’s still warm. “I was thinking: once you and Daddy are all moved in, we should make plans for this summer. Like the zoo, or the pool…”

“Yeah!” Harris claps his hands together and grins. “Or Disney World!”

Eddie’s ears perk up at his son’s suggestion. “Not this year, but maybe soon.” If he can continue moving up the ranks at the record store, coupled with the two of you splitting rent, it might even happen next year, but he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t guarantee he’ll keep. “And we’ll drag Grampa Wayne with us.”

Wayne responds with a shake of his head. “You’re outta your mind if you think I’m goin’ on any of those roller coasters.”

“You’re gonna sit and ride It’s a Small World the whole day?” Eddie teases, leaning back in his seat.

“Damn straight.”

The food comes out ten minutes later, steaming plates carefully placed on the table. You cut the silver dollar pancakes into bite-size pieces, pushing half to the side nearest Harris and the other half closest to you. A glass syrup carafe waits to be used, its handle sticky with residue.

“Say when,” you tell Harris, drizzling it back and forth across the plate. He waits until the pancakes are drenched before stopping you.

You watch as he uses his fork to spear some pancake, pops it in his mouth, and chews thoughtfully. “It’s yummy!” he declares triumphantly, already scanning the plate for his next piece. “This is my favorite food ever!”

You, Eddie, and Wayne share smiles; none of you take his declaration too seriously, knowing he changes his favorite anythings on an hourly basis. Still, a win is a win, and avoiding a chicken finger-induced tantrum is no small feat.

Eddie spreads a pat of butter over his toast, but his eyes never shift from you and Harris sharing breakfast. You’d asked him whether he prefers blueberries or chocolate chips in his pancakes, and the discussion quickly devolved into a competition to see who could come up with the grossest pancake addition.

“How about…” Harris wiggles his nose, “broccoli pancakes?”

“Ew!” You stick out your tongue in disgust. “That was a good one, but I think I can top it. Would you eat…” you tap your chin in contemplation, “fish stick pancakes!”

Harris squeals, far from an inside voice, but no one wants to correct him. “That’s super yucky! Fish stick pancakes?!”

Eddie smiles, tucking into his own food. He wants to savor the joy, the warmth. The twinkle in Wayne’s eyes, the upturned corners of Harris’s lips, the trill of your laugh. He wishes he could capture the feeling, but a mental image will have to do.

He inhales and allows himself to be wrapped in the unconditional love he had once convinced himself he didn’t want nor deserve.

The Hawkins Preschool cafeteria has once again been transformed. The custodians folded the long tables, propping them against the wall, and set up rows of folding chairs, leaving a small aisle for the graduates’ families to find their seats.

Other parents stare as Eddie walks in, perspiration prickling under his arms as he hears them whispering about the kid who ran away. It’s audible enough for Wayne to hear; he rests his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before they take their seats.

Jeff and Dustin arrive a few moments later, noticing Eddie and Wayne in the small crowd and shuffling over. Eddie pulls them each in for a quick hug, and Wayne does the same.

“Glad we made it,” Dustin says with a sigh of relief. “My flight got delayed half an hour, but we made up the time in the air.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “It didn’t help that we had to stop at a payphone so you could call your precious Suzie-Poo,” he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of a smile on his lips, proud of the way his friend cares so deeply for his partner. “Anyway, we’re here now.” He takes a seat next to Wayne, shifting so he can speak to Eddie. “Is Harris excited to graduate?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head at the recent memory of his son prancing around the apartment that morning in his cap and gown, small body drowning in the flowing green fabric. In that instant, Eddie could picture him as a young man, crossing a much larger stage to receive his diploma from Hawkins High. If Higgins is still the principal, Eddie might have to teach Harris the family tradition of flipping him off.

Sue Sinclair makes her way up the small staircase to the podium, adjusting the microphone so she speaks into it easily. “Good morning, parents, siblings, and other special guests. Welcome to Hawkins Preschool’s Moving Up ceremony.” She beams, holding for applause. Eddie eases back into his seat; he’s known Principal Sinclair for years, since Lucas had joined Hellfire, and she’d recently stepped up to take over teaching Harris’s class for the remaining weeks of the school year. After the little boy had given his statement to the police, Marion and Paula’s teaching licenses had been immediately terminated, and negligence charges were currently pending.

“Before we get started, I’d just like to make an announcement.” Sue Sinclair looks over to where your class is standing, patiently waiting their turn to receive their sticker-laden diplomas. “I am pleased to announce that our very own Mr. Will Byers,” she extends her hand in Will’s direction, “will be our newest head teacher starting this fall.”

Though everyone in attendance is clapping, it’s obvious that Eddie, Wayne, Jeff, and Dustin cheer the loudest. Will blushes red, unused to being the center of attention, but the smile on his face shows how excited he is to take on this new role. You wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and pull him in for a proud hug.

“Our students have worked incredibly hard this year, learning their letters, numbers, and how to be a good friend,” the principal continues. “And though we will miss them dearly, we are thrilled to send them off to kindergarten with these new skills. So, without further ado, let’s bring out our graduates!”

The ceremony begins, starting with your class. You stand at one end of the stage, sending each student off to where Will is waiting at the other end as Principal Sinclair reads out each of their names. They take their certificates and pose with baby teeth on full display while their parents snap photos from disposable Kodaks and bulky Nikons. All the seemingly endless days, the menial fights over sharing toys; every moment was worth it if it led to this.

You usher the kids to their seats in the front row after your final student’s name is called, spotting Eddie in the crowd as you sit down. He winks, the corner of his eye mischievously crinkling. You smile, taking full advantage of the other parents’ distractedness and give him a little wave; the exchange a private love letter.

Both of you bring your attention back to the stage when Sue Sinclair calls up the next class. Harris stands towards the center of the line, excitement buzzing through him at a rate that cannot be contained. He rocks from the balls of his feet to his heels, back and forth as he awaits his turn. His brown ringlets poke out from underneath his cap, grazing just above his eyebrows.

Principal Sinclair pauses, looking directly at Eddie when she speaks. She understands the gravity of this accomplishment, her lipsticked smile reaching her eyes as she leans in towards the microphone.

“Harris Munson!”

Eddie jumps up, hollering as loud as his vocal cords will allow. Harris accepts his diploma and smiles wide, both at his accomplishment and at the sound of his dad cheering him on. His expression further brightens when he sees Wayne, Dustin, and Jeff beside him, and he waves while jumping up and down.

He’s supposed to walk from stage left to stage right, just as all the students before him have done; in typical Harris fashion, he takes the road less traveled. With a mighty leap, he catapults himself off of the stage and makes a beeline straight for you.

Two little arms wrap themselves around you, squeezing you as tight as they can. The brim of his cap is flush against your cheek. “I did it, Ms. Sweetheart!” His words carry a lightheartedness that only a child’s joy can bring. “Did you see?” He picks his head up from where it was nestled against you and giggles, dimpled chin brushing your bicep.

You tilt the mortarboard slightly upward and press a kiss to his forehead. “I saw, Har,” you tell him, using your thumb to wipe away your lipstick print, “and I am so, so proud of you.” Readjusting his cap, you usher him over to where the rest of his class is standing, a garden of happiness blooming within you.

You look back at where Eddie is sitting, wishing you could sit next to him, fingers laced together while his thumb caresses the side of your hand and grasping your hand tighter when Harris’s name is called. For now, it’s enough to know that you’ll be by his side throughout all of Harris’s future endeavors and accomplishments. A team.

Eddie’s palms press into his slack-covered thighs as he peers over at you and grins. Bright, adoring eyes meet yours, speaking every thought that his mouth can’t say right now. I love you. Thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.

You accept the wordless praise with a smile, one that reaches beyond its usual confines.

Dustin notices the small exchange, and he nudges Eddie’s ribs with his elbow. “She’s the one, huh?” He cocks his eyebrow knowingly.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie murmurs, no longer paying any attention to the remaining names being read aloud. “You ever think you’d see the day I settle down?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an ounce of insecurity behind them.

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin nods without hesitation. “Always knew you would.” Carol Perkins shushes him from the row ahead, but he just flips her off and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you remember that time in high school when we got sloshed—sorry, Wayne,” Jeff cuts in sheepishly, “and you went on a rant about how you secretly wanted the whole wife, kids, picket fence deal?”

“And I believe I threatened to kick your ass if you told anyone,” Eddie points out, embarrassment turning his face red, apparent even under the light stubble covering his cheeks.

Wayne chuckles softly. “I already knew. About the dream and the booze.” He laughs a bit harder at Jeff and Eddie’s shocked expressions. “If you keep replacing vodka with water, eventually, it’s all just water.”

“Ya don’t say.” Dustin’s sarcasm bleeds through his whisper.

Principal Sinclair reads the last student’s name with the same enthusiasm she’s given all of the other kids. “I now present to you, the Hawkins Preschool class of 1997!” She mimes tossing a cap in the air, the students’ cue to do the same.

The fervor of the cheers and applause could shake the cafeteria. Whistles pierce the air and reverberate off of the walls, none louder than Wayne Munson’s. You stand up, smoothing the pleats of your dress to soak in the achievement of completing another academic year; for you, this one in a brand new school with more challenges than you’d cared to endure.

You and Will take in the sight of nine cherubic faces looking up at you in admiration, though they’re beginning to shed their baby fat. This was certainly a journey, and you couldn’t have asked for a better teaching assistant to walk beside you through it all.

“I’m gonna miss you next year,” you say, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“I’ll be right down the hall!”

Begrudgingly, you let go of him, not losing the pout on your lips. “That’s way too far for me.” The two of you both know that you’re serious; it won’t be the same without having him in the classroom with you. “Can we try to match up our breaks and eat lunch together?”

“It’s a date,” Will laughs, then juts out his chin to motion behind you, “but it looks like I might have some competition.”

Before you can turn around, Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist. He tugs you in close so your back is flush against his chest, the buttons from his shirt pressing into your spine. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs in your ear, lips so close that they brush the lobe. “Are you ready to start your summer?”

You kiss his cheek, adjusting your stance so you can walk hand in hand to get Harris. He torpedoes himself into Eddie’s stomach, shrieking with laughter as he’s lifted into the air.

“Har Bear, you’re a preschool graduate!” Eddie smacks a kiss to his son’s temple. “How should we celebrate, hmm? Ice cream? Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Ice cream!” Harris decides easily. “I’m gonna get cotton candy with rainbow sprinkles and—Uncle Dusty!” He squirms out of Eddie’s grasp and races over to Dustin.

“What? I’m not an ice cream topping!” Dustin teases, crouching down to ruffle Harris’s curls, matted to his scalp from being hidden underneath the cap.

Harris giggles. “You’re so silly!” He glances back and forth from him to you, and you realize he doesn’t know that you’d met in March at Will’s birthday party. “Uncle Dusty, this is Ms. Sweetheart. She’s my almost-mommy.”

“Ohh,” Dustin replies with a smirk, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “I think she needs to be your dad’s almost-wife first–”

“All right! Ice cream time!” Eddie hurries to cut him off, glaring at Dustin for bringing the idea to Harris’s attention again; he has constantly been hounding him about marriage ever since he found out about his newest living arrangements. The idea of marrying you, however, eases his tension and has a smile tugging on his lips; a slight switch in expression that his uncle spots easily.

Wayne’s gruff whisper is in Eddie’s ear. “Sounds like it’s time for an almost-proposal.”

“Shut up!”

“I think that’s the last of them!” Jeff calls out, lugging the final cardboard box from his car into your apartment. He wipes his hands on his jeans and closes the door behind him, careful not to wake up his sleeping daughter in Viv’s arms. He looks over at where you, Robin, and Jess have begun unpacking, laying Eddie’s clothes in one pile and Harris’s much smaller clothes in another.

Jeff places a kiss on the crown of Viv’s head, then plants an identical one on Ettie’s. “Where are the guys?”

“Harris’s room,” you say; bittersweet taste tinging the new label. It feels better than Grandma’s old room, but part of it will always belong to her. You hear Harris giggle as Eddie and Dustin re-assemble his racecar bed, spreading warmth that gently softens the sadness until it resembles sentimentality. “I’ll come with you; I have to put this away, anyway.” You grab the pile of Harris’s clothes and tuck it under your arm.

Eddie and Dustin sit on the floor, rogue screws spread around them as they intently study their project.

“I think this piece,” Dustin muses, picking up one of the sides of the frame, “connects with this one like that…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” He takes the screwdriver and twists the metal into the slot triumphantly. Your breath catches in your throat as his bicep flexes with the motion, perfectly displayed where his t-shirt sleeve had been cut into a makeshift tank top. “There we go.” He looks up and realizes you’re there, perfectly still as you watch him. “Hey, Sweetheart. Y’good?” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye; though it was inadvertent, he knows what he’s doing to you.

You only nod, the movement dragging you out of your momentary stupor. He chuckles as you place Harris’s shirts and pants in the dresser, fingers clumsily slipping over the knobs. It’s the same unicorn-covered dresser that had sent Harris into hysterics a few weeks ago, but you’d painted over it before he could see. It’s now a dark navy blue, no evidence of what once lay beneath.

Eddie’s amused by your reaction and subsequent embarrassment, running his tongue over his teeth and chuckling to himself, but his victory is short-lived.

“Hey, Casanova,” Dustin’s exasperated voice cuts in, pointing to the section Eddie just assembled, “you put the piece on upside down.”

Harris crinkles his nose. “What’s Casanova?”

Eddie buries his head in his hands as Dustin scrambles to explain. “It means your dad is trying to show off his handyman skills for your almost-mommy.” He winks in Eddie’s direction before leaning in and exaggeratedly whispering in Harris’s ear, “but he’s not doing a very good job.”

As soon as Harris distracts himself with setting up his toys, Eddie is saluting his friend with a quick flip of his middle finger.

You crouch down, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry; I’m very impressed.” He blushes when you kiss his cheek. “Your uncle’s going to be here with dinner in a few minutes, if you burly men want to wash up.”

Eddie nods, turning to his friends and his son and speaking in a deep baritone. “You heard the woman! Let us refuel so we may regain our strength for hunting and other masculine activities.”

Harris’s brows pinch together in further confusion while you and Dustin share an eyeroll, but the three of you follow your fearless leader out of the room. Eddie lets the two of them pass and waits for you, sliding a coy hand in your back pocket and murmuring against your hair. “Man and woman make fire in bedroom later?” He continues using the deepened voice.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s…that’s not a no, though, right?”

The summer sun is still high in the sky when Wayne arrives at the apartment, three pizza boxes still warm in his palms. He’s barely able to put them on the table before Harris is racing towards him, ready to give a full report of the goings-on of his day.

Jess sits at the table, baby Ettie laying in her arms while she gives Viv a break and feeds her from a bottle. You place a piece of pizza on the paper plate in front of her, and one in front of Robin, who adoringly watches her girlfriend dote on a baby. Wayne sits in the third seat, thanking you with his kind smile as you pass him a slice.

You join Eddie and Harris on the couch; Jeff plops down in the La-Z-Boy on the other side of the coffee table, motioning for Viv to sit atop his legs, while Dustin has seemingly been relegated to sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Uncle Dusty, come sit next to me!” Harris chirps, nearly knocking your plate out of your hand as he bounces onto your lap. His curls tickle your chin as he leans over to take a bite of his dinner, dragging the cheese halfway off of the crust before Eddie holds it in place.

Dustin obliges, squishing in next to you with an apologetic laugh, but you don’t mind. Dialogue melds together, with people seamlessly leaping from one conversation to another. Robin poses the question of what everyone thinks Ettie’s first word will be, which prompts Wayne to tell the story about how Eddie tried so hard to get Harris to say dada, only for the boy to scream out “SHIT!” in the middle of Bradley’s Big Buy.

Jeff looks across the room at his tiny daughter. “Please don’t let that be your first word,” he jokingly begs her, picking a greasy pepperoni piece from his slice and dropping it in his mouth. While he’s preoccupied, Viv steals a bite of the crust.

“Are you all going to the July 4th carnival next week?” Eddie asks through a cheesy mouthful.

Everyone except Dustin answers in the affirmative. “Flying back home tomorrow,” he says, a round of booing from the group forcing him to pause mid-statement, “but Suzie and I are—hey, not cool!” He swats at a crumpled napkin that Eddie lobs at his head. “Suzie and I are going to try and visit for my mom’s birthday in August,” he finishes with a pointed look.

Harris tilts his head back so you can see straight into his flared nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart, you’re coming to the carnival with us, right?”

“Of course! What rides are we gonna go on?” you ask, his little feet kicking at your calves as joy flows through his body.

“The Ferris Wheel! Me an’ Daddy always go on that, an’ now you can come with us!”

He and Eddie always go on the Ferris Wheel. It’s a tradition that they share, and now they’re allowing you in. Now you’re part of it.

You smile, kissing his forehead in a celebration of belonging and delight. “That sounds like a lot of fun,” you agree. “Do you think Daddy will play the games and win a prize for us?”

Eddie groans at your suggestion. “Those booths are all rigged. Every last one of ‘em.”

“I dunno,” Jess says teasingly, wiping Ettie’s chin with a cloth bib, “I won a stuffed animal from the whack-a-mole last year—”

“Oh, yeah! And I beat the Test Your Strength one,” Jeff adds slyly, getting a rise out of proving Eddie wrong.

Eddie throws his voice to a falsetto, mocking his friend’s words. “I beat the Test Your Strength one,” he echoes nasally, chuckling when Jeff scoops up the napkin previously thrown at Dustin and hurls it towards Eddie.

The rest of the evening continues like this, silly banter and recalled stories that end up being cut short or watered down for the impressionable ears listening in. It’s love in its many forms: between partners, between parents and their children, between friends. Each peal of laughter, each shared smile, each memory made adds to its foundation; brick by brick, layer by layer.

The pink hues of sunset darken to indigo and eventually settle into a night sky, the moon shining brightly and unobscured by clouds. Eddie, Jeff, and Dustin finally manage to put the race car bed back together—and just in time. Harris’s yawns become more frequent until he can no longer fight sleep, dozing off with his cheek pressed against your chest. Soft snores leave his slightly agape mouth.

“I feel the same way,” Wayne jokes, standing up from his chair and stretching his back with a grimace. “It’s been a long day.”

The group nods in agreement, quietly gathering their belongings and saying good-bye.

“Thank you all for helping today,” you say, handing out hugs while keeping Harris sound asleep. He stirs but doesn’t fully wake up, even with all of the commotion. “We really appreciate it.”

Eddie seconds your sentiment. “It means a lot to us. We know we owe you a lot more than just dinner—”

“You guys are family,” Viv interrupts with a smile, gently rocking a sleeping Ettie in her arms. “This is what family does.”

A calloused hand rests on your shoulder from behind the couch; you lean your head on Eddie’s forearm and give it a small kiss. The delicate hairs brush against your lips, and you relax into his touch.

Your guests file out, already making plans to meet up at the carnival. Eddie closes the door behind them, insisting that he can beat Jeff at the Test Your Strength and demanding that his friend buy him a funnel cake when he does.

There’s a soft murmuring coming from Harris’s room, and Eddie walks as quietly as he can. He watches silently, shoulder pressed against the doorframe, as you place his son’s head onto the pillow. The crisp sheet is draped over his sleeping body, followed by the Buzz Lightyear comforter you’d bought at Kmart especially for him. Harris stirs for a moment to grab onto the blankets, tugging them to his chin and scrunching up his legs to assume a cozier position. He lets out a content sigh and slips back into his dream.

“Good night, kiddo,” you whisper, kissing his mop of curls. You look around the room, so different from when it belonged to Grandma. It seems larger, his race car bed taking up much less space than her queen-size bed did. A Lego set lies where her shoe rack once stood. The top of his dresser is covered in Hot Wheels, rather than the makeup and jewelry that Grandma had on hers.

But it’s a good kind of different, one that comes with the natural ebb and flow of life. It brings inevitable change, and it’s your choice whether to embrace it or run away.

“You’re a natural at this bedtime thing, y’know.” Eddie’s voice, low and soft, places you back in the moment. He holds his arms out for you to nestle into them, holding you as close as he can. His thumb caresses your shoulder blade. “It normally takes a couple of stories, half a dozen pee breaks, and a horse tranquilizer to get him down.”

“I think being completely exhausted from moving helped,” you laugh into his chest. “And I’m right there with him. Man and woman might have to postpone their fire-making.”

Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against you. “Yeah, it wouldn’t be my best performance. Wanna make this one really good, since it’s a special occasion and everything.” He closes Harris’s door and leads you to the bedroom you two now share. “We gotta christen this bad boy.”

“We’ve had sex on this bed a million times.” You recall the ways his lips traced over your body, eager to memorize every inch of skin.

“But that’s when it was only your bed,” he points out. “Now it’s ours.”

Ours. Our bed, our home, our family. Ours.

You can barely change into pajamas before you’re falling asleep; Eddie manages to slip off his jeans and shirt, clad in plaid boxers and nothing else, before crashing down into the bed you now share. His arm slips around your waist, fingers reflexively dancing up your shirt, while he buries his head in the nape of your neck.

When daylight breaks and the sun streams through the gaps in the blinds, Eddie has assumed a starfish position, blankets flung to the edge of the bed in what must have been a middle-of-the-night move. You’re still dozing, but he knows he has to wake you if he wants to sneak in some alone time before his son wakes up.

“Morning, gorgeous.” His breath tickles under your earlobe, pulling you close to him. You hum, not quite awake but no longer dreaming. “C’mon, wake up, pretty thing.” He licks his lips before kissing the exposed skin of your shoulder blades.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you turn over and face him. Your mouth lazily finds his, the cotton fabric of your pajama top fisted in his grasp. The outline of his morning wood is visible through his boxer shorts; it presses into your thigh as though greedily searching for your warmth. “You always wake up this hard?” you tease, fingertips already fiddling with the worn elastic waistband and dipping towards the treasure beneath. The scruff of his pubic hair grazes your knuckles.

“Only when I dream of you,” he mumbles with a cheeky grin, climbing on top of you while shedding his only clothing article. The boxers fall to the floor unceremoniously.

“Smooth.”

“I thought so.” Both hands cup your cheeks; you expect him to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Love waking up next to you.”

It draws a memory of the first morning you’d spent together; an inadvertent sleepover that culminated in one poorly-crafted lie and two broken hearts. He looks at you now, tired and yet still beautiful. How could I have let her slip by? How did I almost miss all of this?

You take the lead this time, arching your back so your torso melds into his, connected by desire. Eddie has your tank top off in a heartbeat, tongue swiping over your nipples the instant they’re visible.

“Perfect,” Eddie groans, making his way down your abdomen. He places your legs on top of his shoulders, lips delicately fluttering over your clit so he can lick a broad stripe up your labia. “I know we should be having a quickie, but I can’t turn down breakfast in bed.” His face is buried in your pussy, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory.

You giggle at his phrasing. If you question it, you know he’ll make a comment about you being good enough to eat. You give in instead, letting him ravish you just the way you both crave.

One finger, then two, slip into your waiting cunt while his mouth focuses on your clit. You’re dripping with your arousal and his saliva; you bite your lower lip to stifle the noises begging to be heard.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you croak, trying to keep your voice down. “I’m so close, s-so close…”

Eddie says nothing, continuing to worship the taste of you. You can feel his victorious smile as you cry out his name in orgasmic bliss, toes flexing just as he brings you down from the high.

“Need you, fuckin’ Christ,” he breathes, tempering the stimulation pulsing through his cock with a few short tugs.

You nod, already electrified at the prospect of being split open on him. He sinks into you with a muted moan, savoring the way you envelop him within your warmth. “All mine, Sweetheart; you’re all mine.”

“Mhm,” you manage. Your fingernails dig into his upper back with a force that will surely leave crescent indents in his skin. “I’m all yours. Always will be.”

His thumb runs along your jaw and he smiles. She’s all mine.

The ridges of his dick form a delectable friction along your walls. Each thrust is a mutual give and take, an exchanging of selves with every breath.

“I love you.” Eddie’s impossibly beautiful like this, hands holding your hips steady while sweat drips from his forehead onto yours. He brings your fourth finger between his lips; you can feel his tongue claiming it as his own. “And I’m gonna put a ring on this pretty little finger of yours, okay? Just want it to be perfect for you.”

You weave your fingers into his sleep-mussed curls and kiss him. “Don’t need perfect. I’ll marry you without a ring.” Whatever elaborate fairytale wedding you’d been crafting in your head is suddenly wholly unnecessary; all that matters is that you and Eddie commit to one another. But you know him well enough to not question his devotion to you. If Eddie Munson wants to give you the proposal of a lifetime, then that’s what he’s going to do.

There will be no unkept promises this morning, no shattered hearts to mend.

He can’t hold back any longer, spilling into you with punctuating grunts. You receive every last drop gratefully, a part of him within you, and you finish for the second time today.

“I meant it.” He gently withdraws from inside you, both of you mourning the loss of the other’s body. “When I said I’m gonna marry you, I meant it.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Eddie grins, laying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. Sweat glistens along the sparse hairs curling over his bare chest. “Are you hungry? I know I worked up an appetite.”

You kiss his nose, biting the end teasingly. He yelps in mock pain, so you kiss it again. “I am, but I have to be honest—between all the unpacking and sex, I don’t have the energy to make breakfast.”

“Me neither,” he admits with a laugh. “Why don’t we shower, wake up Sleeping Beauty,” he nudges his head towards Harris’s room, “and go to the diner.” He stretches and stands, eyes drawn to the nightstand, where the framed photo from Wayne leans against a porcelain lamp. Happiness captured with the click of a Kodak.

You’re smiling, thinking about sharing silver dollar pancakes with Harris again just like you used to do with Grandma. Somewhere along the way, you grew from the child to the adult in that scenario, passing on a tradition you never even knew had been started.

“That sounds amazing.” As you say it aloud, something in addition to hunger gnaws at your stomach. You’ve been putting it off, hiding from the truth, but you want to stop pretending. You want to feel everything that comes with accepting reality. Without sorrow, you would never recognize joy. Without grief, you won’t understand the depths of our love beyond the physical plain.

“Could we make a quick pit stop first?”

Though it’s still morning, the late June humidity has your shirt clinging to you, sweat beading along the collar and around your bra clasp. You close the car door behind you; Eddie shuffles to open the back door for Harris. The little boy unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the booster seat, glancing between you and his dad. You take his left hand and Eddie takes his right as you walk over to the stone.

“Hi, Grandma,” you whisper, crouching down to better see the engraving. Gently, your fingers dance over the etched words: Beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. “I know I haven’t been by to visit you yet, but I’m here now.” You muster up a small smile. “And I brought Eddie and Harris with me. They…they loved you, too.”

You falter for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Eddie’s hand rubs your upper back, not caring about how perspiration-soaked it is.

“Do you want some privacy?” he murmurs. “Harris and I can wait by the car. You take as long as you need.”

You nod, watching them walk hand in hand to give you your space to grieve. Filling your lungs with a deep breath, you speak what’s been in your heart.

“I need to thank you,” you start, talking directly to where her name is engraved, “for a lot of things. But I guess, um, the most important is how you taught me to forgive without taking shit—can I swear in a cemetery?—from people.” Your laugh is heavy with the weight of remembrance.

“I miss you. A lot,” you continue, tears now spilling freely from your eyes. “I miss doing puzzles together. I miss cooking together. I’m going to try and make your applesauce for Thanksgiving this year. I think Harris will really like it.” You swallow thickly. “If you’d met him before you got sick, you would’ve adored him. He’s got the biggest heart of any kid I’ve ever met.”

You’re finding it easier to talk; everything you need to say is coming naturally and without hesitation.

“He’s…he’s living in your room. I guess, technically, it’s his room now. But a little part of me will always consider it your room, too. And I think that’s okay.” You nod, confirming to yourself that it’s all part of the process. “He keeps asking me and Eddie when we’re going to get married. To be honest, I’m kind of wondering the same thing.” You smile at the thought of marrying Eddie, maybe even legally adopting Harris, if that’s something they also want. “I’m not in a rush, though, but I really do believe that Eddie’s the one. He’s my person, and I’m his. So, yeah, I’m definitely hoping that he proposes sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I always thought losing you wouldn’t be as hard as it was, because it felt like I had already lost you to dementia.” It feels silly to admit aloud, but it’s the truth. “I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be easy. But I promise, I’ll stop by more often, and I’ll have plenty of cute Harris stories to tell you.”

There’s just a bit more that you need to share before you can go. “I love you, Grandma. And…thank you for loving me, too.”

You stand up, pressing on your knees to ensure your balance. Taking one last look at the stone, you run your fingers over the jagged marble and turn back towards Eddie and Harris.

The little boy is perched on his father’s hip, squinting into the sunlight to make out your form. “You ready, Ms. Sweetheart?”

You blink through misty eyes, staring at the two people in front of you. Ten months ago, if someone had told you that your one-night stand at a dive bar would end up being the love of your life, you would have laughed in their face. But the universe does what it must to remain in balance, and it doesn’t humor any arguments.

Inhale, exhale, repeat. This is where you’re meant to be. This is who you’re meant to be: a partner, a friend, an almost-mommy.

“Yeah,” you say finally, the tears clearing from your vision and a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I’m ready.”

💚

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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ellieslittlewh0re · 1 year ago

Text

Temptations - stepsister! ellie x fem reader

wk- 3.5k

summary- reader and ellie visit home for the summer after their time away at collage

additional tags: IM SORRY!! I know this is pushing it but it can’t be inc*st if they’re not blood related right? 🙃, reader is Joel’s bio daughter, sarah doesn’t exists in this bc I said so, ellie is adopted, rocker! ellie, band! ellie, loser! ellie, perv! ellie, weed! mention, ellie is kinda awful in this, like typical f*ck boy beat, reader and ellie are polar opposites so they kinda don’t get along, reader is a overachiever, ellie is a deadbeat, nothing too crazy happens in this part, masturbation! warning (ellie), no physical description of reader, mutual pinning and gay longing etc…

part 1 - part 2

psa!! I know this isn’t for everyone!! If you don’t like it, don’t read it!! 🥰

——————————————————————————

The sweltering blaze of the summer Texas sun made my thighs stick to the leather seat of my 97' Buick as I exited the car.

I looked up at the pale yellow house, peeled siding, and a crooked white picket fence hugging the perimeter. It was familiar. It was home. Memories, good and bad, rested in the floorboards.

I stood in the driveway, the strap of my tank loosely hung off my shoulder, backpack slung over one arm, and the other weighed down by a suitcase.

"Hey- kiddo! You're late."

A man shouted from the front porch, waving his hand excitedly.

"I know. I'm sorry. Traffic was bad moving' through Houston." I gave the old man an apologetic smile as he met me halfway, pulling me in for a familiar embrace of musk and pine.

"Jus' glad you made it safe, is all. Dinners on the table. Hope yer hungry- I think I made too much." Joel gave me a smile, the wrinkles on his face looked deeper than I remembered.

He escorts me into the house, taking my bags from me and relieving me of the extra weight.

The house looks the same, but at the same time different. Smaller maybe? The furniture was in the same positions, the walls the same color, although slightly faded from the years.

"Can you go get yer sister? Tell her supper s' ready." The man asks as he turns to the staircase off the entry, bags in hand to put them in my old bedroom.

I tense, my body physically rejecting the idea of my sister- well, step sister.

I was hoping to make it here before she did, give me a few hours of peace before she'd ultimately ruin it.

When Ellie came into this family, it didn't take long for me to become jealous. She quickly clicked with Joel, bonding with him over things that he took an interest in; building shelves, working on cars, hell, even playing guitar.

It's not like I thought my dad loved Ellie more or anything. I knew I'd always be his little girl that got perfect grades and stayed out of trouble, but seeing how his face lit up when Ellie was by his side, grease smeared on her cheek made me heart seare.

I start to head up the stairs, following Joel's lead when I remembered she hasn't slept up there since she was a kid.

During Ellie's angsty teen years, she had begged Joel for days to let her move her bedroom in the basement, claiming "a growing girl needs her own space."

Joel always shot her down, but Ellie wouldn't let up. One night when I couldn't sleep, I got out of bed to get something to drink only to be met with Ellie's 16 year old string bean self pushing her mattress over the railing, and ever since then, the basement has been her territory.

I turn, slowly waking towards the door off of the kitchen that led to said basement, not a hint of enthusiasm in my step.

I creaked open the heavy door, and the wooden steps creaked beneath my feet with each step. Sounds of electronic gunshots and disgruntled curses grew louder as I reached the bottom.

I extend my neck around the corner of the cement room, clothes and empty cans scattered on the floor, music and movie posters filling every inch of the wall surface.

"Els...Ellie." I repeat her name, but she doesn't acknowledge it, her focus never straying from the first person shooter game on the tv. The LED lights that outlined the room turned the space into a purple hue.

My patience wearing thin, I yell her name one last time.

"What?!" Ellie huffed, tearing off the headset that covered her ears and looked at me.

"Dinner is ready." I said plainly, rolling my eyes before going back up the stairs.

"What? I don't even get a hello?"

Ellie yells from her still seated position, a cockiness tingled on her lips.

I scoff, rolling my eyes even harder even if she couldn't witness it. I picture that familiar smug smirk on her face that she had whenever she was trying to piss me off, and it was working.

Ellie loved toying with you like this since you were 16, and she was 17, poking and prodding at you as she sat back, and watched you get worked up. Ellie would never admit it to you, but she loved how no matter how little she tried to rile you up; you'd always bite.

"How's yer classes going? Likin' your teachers alright?" Joel asked between bites of his burger, his eyes glancing at me and over to Ellie, more specifically towards Ellie.

"Good... yeah, everything's good." I nod towards him, giving him a sincere smile to assure him.

Joel winked, smiling back like he knew he could count on me when it came to that sort of thing.

Ellie didn't respond, too busy shoving food in her face which made Joel kick her under the table, jolting her attention away from her plate.

"Ow! What the hell?" Ellie yelled, throwing her hands up.

"Yer classes, Ellie. How are you doin'?" The man asked, a seriousness overtaking his tone.

Ellie groaned, throwing her head back over the top of the wooden dining chair.

"They're fine. Stop worryin'." Ellie gave him a glare before diverting her attention back to her food.

I watch her from across the table, my legs crossed as I quietly ate which was the complete opposite of her.

Ellie's elbows rested on the oak table, her body slightly hunched as she devoured every last bite like she was a starved animal.

I stood at the sink, washing a cup when I felt a hand grab my hip from behind.

"Sorry- here's another one." Ellie talked into my neck, her fingers digging into my hip slightly. Her chest brushed against my back, and her lips too close to my neck. It felt suffocating.

I hadn't realized her presence had me washing the same cup for the entire interaction.

"Hey, Ellie-"

Joel's voice boomed, interrupted into the kitchen, causing Ellie to push herself away quickly.

Joel stood in the archway, his forearm coming up to lean against it.

"I haven't been down in the basement for a long time- please sleep upstairs. I don't need ya gettin' bit by a widow or somthin'."

Ellie groaned, her eyes lolling back into her skull, but she didn't argue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was long over. Joel retreated into his bed room for the night, placing a kiss on the top of my head before doing so.

I was sitting on the couch; the tv show I was watching was the only source of light that illuminated the main floor.

It was quiet and peaceful, Ellie had gone back down to her dungeon shortly after dinner, playing video games by the sounds of it.

My quiet was disturbed as the heavy basement door swung open, revealing a homely looking Ellie. Her sweatpants hung low on her hips, checkered green and blue boxers peaking above the waistband, and black wifebeater that snugged her torso.

"Isn't past your bed time, young lady?" Ellie teased as she opened the fridge, pulling out a beer before lazily making her way to the living room.

"Who cut your hair, Hellen Keller?" I snapped right back, a smirk on my lips as she took a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

"Oh- ha. Ha. You're funny."

Ellie pulled a lighter out of the pocket of her pants, using the top to pop open the cap of the brown bottle.

Her chuckle was low and raspy as she brought the rim of the bottle to her lips, her head dipping back as she swallowed the liquid.

Ellie had changed a lot since the last time I saw her, almost two years ago. Her hair is shorter, choppier, and a darker shade of brown, almost black.

Ellie is also taller and more muscular like she really grew into herself. Her face has hardened, her cheeks and jaw more apparent than before.

I sneak peeks at her, looking her over and familiarize myself with my step sisters new look. My eyes travel down to the dark green-blue ink that covered her forearm, a moth with fern leaves. It was pretty, almost too delicate looking compared to her, but it suited her.

My eyes scale down further to her hands, long fingers and a prominent veins that curved along. I have to give it to her, she always had beautiful hands.

"Take a picture it will last longer."

Ellie's voice jolted me out of my trance, my head quickly turning back to the tv.

I try to think of something- anything to cover my tracks.

"Don't get cocky- I was looking at your tattoo. It's nice... who did it?"

Ellie lifted her arm, turning it over to observe it.

"My ex. She bought a tattoo gun online and needed someone to practice on." Ellie said nonchalantly, shrugging before looking back up at the tv.

"Well- she did good. Why is she your ex now? You should've kept her around and gotten tatted up." I ask with genuine interest.

Ellie shrugged, taking another sip of her beer.

"Dunno- We kinda just fell out? Plus she caught me with another chick and freaked out." Ellie stated, not a hint of guilt after just admitting she's a cheater.

Somehow it didn't surprise me after all the girls she'd bring home after school. I'd see the same girl come over a few times within the week, only for the girl to be replaced by a different girl, and the cycle continued like that until she left for college.

"You think your big sis is a bad person now?" Ellie asked, a grin on her lips and she took another sip.

"It doesn't make me think of you any differently." I lied. It did make me think of her differently; I started to imagine what her sex life was like.

What's so great about her? That had these girls constantly following her home like a lost puppy. Surely, it's not her sunshine personality.

My mind flicks back to her hands, my eyes still glued to the tv. Her long and rough, calloused fingers must be the magic touch.

Ellie hummed at my response unconvincingly. The light from the tv illuminated the freckles on her cheeks and nose.

"The fuck are we watching anyways? Some cheesy reality show? Wait- is this the gay one?"

Ellie's voice piqued in interest, her back shimming further back into the cushion to her comfortable.

"Um- yeah, why?"

I ask, side eyeing her, not really understanding what the big deal was.

********

The big deal was; Ellie never knew if you were into girls; or not. She tried to figure it out for years, carefully observing the people you brought home for school. You didn't make it easy, and truthfully you were kinda a loner, only having a few close friends that you'd invite over.

Although there was that one time; you came home from school with a different girl that Ellie had never seen before, and when Ellie tried introducing herself, you quickly took the mystery girl's hand in yours and ran upstairs, locking the two of you in your bedroom.

Ellie fought herself over it for a long time, trying to picture you with a girl. She wondered if you had kissed another girl, held another girl's hand, and it drove Ellie fucking insane.

Ellie had a dark secret that she wouldn't dare say out loud and definitely would never let you know about it.

Ellie started thinking about you a lot after you turned 16, and they were almost never innocent thoughts. When you turned 16 it was like Aphrodite came down to earth and blessed you herself.

Ellie wasn't proud that she had these thoughts, I mean, you were her little sis after all, but it didn't stop her from picturing you whenever she fucked random college girls in the fraternity bathrooms.

********

Ellie shushed my question, motioning for me to turn it up and I do.

Four episodes in, both of us were dead silent as we watched the horror that is reality tv dating shows. We shared glances at each other whenever one of the cast members said something outrageous, but other than that, we just watched and enjoyed the presence of one another.

It was getting late, my eyes grew heavy and harder to keep open.

"Alright- it's gettin' late, and I have to shower still. Pick this up tomorrow?" I pause the tv and stand up with a yawn.

Ellie pleaded for one episode, holding her hands in a prayer. I stand my ground, promising her we can binge it tomorrow and that seemed to work.

We go up the stairs, Ellie following close behind as we mumble goodnights to each other before we go into our designated bedrooms.

I rummage through my suitcase, pulling out a over sized t-shirt and underwear.

I turn on the light in the bathroom, closing the door, but not all the way. It was a bad habit that I never grew out of, leaving the bathroom door open a few inches whenever I took a shower or bath. I did it because growing up, I was terrified of the bathroom, scared I'd get locked in and somehow the lights go out, and the grudge lady would be hiding in the shower.

I slip off my jeans and my tank, dropping them to the floor and turn on the water. I wait, holding my hand under the stream until the temperature was up to my standards.

I get in, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles from sitting in a car all day. I felt the tenseness of my shoulders relax and my heart rate slowing down to a more relaxed pace.

***********

Ellie laid in bed, her arm folding under her head as the springs in the mattress poked her back. She scrolled through various apps, checking social media, playing games and repeating.

The sound of the water running in the room down the hall could be heard faintly in Ellie's old bedroom. The walls were still painted a dark shade of blue, with doodles of planets and rockets hand painted by Ellie herself.

Joel couldn't bring himself to paint over them.

The joint (or a few joints) Ellie smoked after dinner; was starting to kick in and made her crave some sort of barbaric concoction.

Pickles with peanut butter, maybe?

Ellie sighed, lifting her myself from the bed lazily, scratching the back of her neck before she turned the nob.

Ellie entered the long stretch of the hall, passing your bedroom the illuminated with a soft pink hue. Coming up on the bathroom, she paused.

At first, she wanted to tease you, to scold you for still keeping the bathroom open when you showered. You weren't a little kid anymore, and you needed to grow up in Ellie's mind.

On the other hand, Ellie was intrigued. She found herself peeking through the gap, the steamed glass door of the shower made it hard to make out details, but it was enough.

She felt wrong about it. One part of her was pulling her body away, telling her to stop looking, but the other part of her (the more fucked up part) couldn't look away.

Her eyes trailed up the profile of your body; pausing momentarily at points of interest.

Ellie didn't know it at the time, but she was biting down on her lip hard as she looked at the curve of your ass, plump and full, and the way your tits sat so high and perky.

Her hand coming down to cup her cunt, rolling her wrist against her clit. A moan escapes her lips as she continued to watch.

The sound of the water shutting off made Ellie snap back to her senses. She quickly backed away from the door and as quickly and quietly, as she could, made her way back to her bedroom and shut the door.

She fell into the mattress, taking a deep and shaky breath as she realizes what she's done. A wave of guilt washed over her- no, more like a tsunami. You were her step sisters, and even worse you've know eachother since Ellie was 14 and you were 13. You practically grew up together, but how would've Ellie known you'd grow into that.

Ellie couldn't deny she thought you were beautiful. Not just the fake, superficial type of beauty, but naturally, you were breathtaking to her, and your body matched.

As Ellie conflicted with herself, she continued to picture you. She imagined what you looked like underneath her, what you sounded like when she was splitting you open.

The guilt was replaced by lust and hormones, but mostly; lust.

Her hand crept down to the hemp of her boxers, slipping inside. Her other hand grabbed the bottom of her tank and brought it up to hold between her teeth- leaving her breasts exposed.

Ellie's fingers glided along her folds, coating them in her slick. She teased her entrance, rubbing gentle circles around her clit.

"Fuuuck- look what you do t' me, y/n" Ellie stifled a moan, dropping the fabric from her teeth as her middle finger sunk into her pussy, pumping in and out, slowly.

She moaned your name; over and over, adding another finger and quickening the pace.

The scene was honestly pathetic. Ellie's sweats and boxers tugged down to her knees, not bothering to take them off completely. Her breasts were the only thing holding the tank up, her hardened nipples- red and swollen as she harshly tugged at them.

"Fuu- your s-so wet, baby. You like when I fuck you like this? Huh?" Ellie babbled and stuttered, gritting through her teeth as she reached closer to her peak.

She pictured this is what you felt like as she sunk her fingers inside, curling against the spongy walls, hitting the spot that made you squirm with each pump.

She wanted to hear you beg, wanted to hear you say her name over and over until it didn't sound like a word anymore.

"Fuu-fuckin' bitch- d-dirty fuckin' whore-" Ellie curses, jaw slacked and her eyebrows furrowed upwards. Her rhythm became jagged as her hips bucked upwards, fucking herself through her orgasm.

Ellie panted, sprawled across the bed as bolts of electricity continued to send shock waves through her body.

Her inner thighs glistened, her breasts malled and violated.

It was official, Ellie had hit a new level of fucked up, but that's okay as long as you never find out.

It's not like you had your ear pressed against the wall as soon as you heard strange noises coming from your step sisters bedroom.

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fangirl-writes · 1 month ago

Text

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Damien Haas x GN!Reader

Warning(s): making out, swearing, drinking

Notes: Got asked for more Damien things but I didn't have any so I wrote one! I'm not sure about the drinking habits of the Smosh squad, but for the purposes of the story we're going to assume they all partake in a reasonable manner.

Summary: You and Damien may or may not have kissed in the Smosh Closet, but you're not telling.

"Seven minutes in heaven!"

You raised your eyebrows at Courtney. "What are we in seventh grade?"

"At Smosh, we are all in seventh grade," Shayne said, laughing.

"We don't have a bottle though," Angela said.

"We can use this," Spencer said, downing the last of his Kickstart and setting it in the middle of the group.

The cast and crew were celebrating post a live show, having pulled couches, chairs and bean bags from all corners of the office into one room for everyone to convene.

"Okay, anyone playing, sit in the circle," Courtney said, clutching on your arm so you couldn't run away.

"Court!" you whined, but she just looked at you with her best puppy dog eyes and you relented.

All cast members joined the circle, except for Ian and Anthony, who hung back, and a few crew did as well.

"How do we decide who goes first?" Tommy asked.

"It was Courtney's idea, I vote they go first," you said.

She shrugged, leaning down and spinning the Kickstart can.

"No fucking way."

The top of the can stopped spinning perfectly in front of Shayne and everyone burst into giggles.

"Her husband? Really?"

Everyone, giggling like teens, ushered Shayne and Courtney into the Smosh Closet.

"Okay, and time starts now!" Anthony said, setting a timer on his watch.

"Don't get too down and dirty, you two or we'll have to burn everything in there!" Ian joked as Chanse closed the door on them.

In true middle school fashion, you all played truth or dare while waiting for the seven minutes to be up.

"Y/N, truth or dare?" Amanda said.

"Uh, truth," you replied.

"Do you or do you not have the hots for someone in this room?"

Your face got hot. "I- er."

"I'm taking that as a yes," Amanda said with a laugh.

"OOH, who is it?" Angela asked.

"Not your turn, Ang," you replied, sticking your tongue out at her, which she returned. "Spencer, truth or dare?"

Anthony's timer went off just as Spencer was in the middle of dancing around with his shirt off.

You all may have had some alcohol in your systems.

Chanse knocked on the door, "Ya'll decent in there?"

He opened the door and Shayne and Courtney, maybe a bit more ruffled, walked out with grins.

Everyone whooped and whistled at them, making them laugh.

"Who's up next?"

It went on like for a few rounds. Shayne spun after Courtney, landing on Spencer and the two of them disappeared into the closet to make silly moaning noises and run a bit way too long. Spencer went next, landing hilariously on Tommy, and so on and so forth.

You'd been able to avoid the sword of Damocles that was the Kickstart can for most of the round until Damien (who'd just emerged from the closet with Kiana) spun it.

You watched with bated breath as the yellow can spun wildly.

And landed on you.

Fuck.

Courtney squealed beside you, grabbing your arm while everyone else did their usual oohs and whoops.

You licked your lips and stood up, taking a final swig of your drink for liquid courage before you handed it to Courtney and followed Damien to the closet.

"Don't have too much fun in there," Chanse joked with a wink.

You hoped everyone would assume the two of you would just sit and talk for the duration of the seven minutes, like most people who weren't playing it up for the bit did.

But what they didn't know was that you were crushing hard on Damien.

He'd really come into himself over the past year or so, dying his hair silver, getting more tattoos, wearing his piercings more often, retaining his rather buff physic. He was hot. And that was a problem for you.

Chanse closed the door, ushering the two of you into darkness.

Your heart was beating so loud you hoped he couldn't hear it.

Once your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could see him better.

He was wearing a regular black t-shirt and some cargo pants, his earrings dangling, and he was already looking at you.

"Hey," he said after a beat.

"Hey," you replied.

The sounds of truth or dare outside the closet were loud enough to cover anything that you two may have said, so any eavesdroppers would be deterred.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked.

You swallowed, nervously. "Uh, yeah, yeah, sure, of course."

His hand came up to softly grab onto your chin so you were looking right at him.

"I think you're really hot," he said, barely above a whisper, lips inches from yours.

You shivered. "Yeah? Well, I think you're pretty hot, yourself."

"Should we make the most of this opportunity?"

He was giving you all the power here, the ability to back out if it was too much for you.

Which it was, but you weren't about to decline a perfectly good offer like that.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He made noise of surprise before pressing back.

His hand slid from your chin to your cheek and your hands gripped at the material of his shirt.

Fireworks were going off in the pit of your stomach.

Damien tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, putting more pressure on your lips.

You hummed in delight, hands moving from his chest up and over his shoulders to finally tangled themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

His hands moved as well, sliding down your sides and to your hips, tugging you closer in return.

The both of you were humming softly against each others' lips, letting each other know you were enjoying the moment.

Damien's tongue slid politely against your bottom lip, asking for permission.

You granted it to him by sliding your own tongue out and guiding his back into your mouth.

He groaned, exploring your mouth gratefully.

You were so caught up in him you almost didn't hear Anthony's timer go off.

Almost.

You quickly pushed him off of you and began straightening yourself, much to his confusion, before he heard Chanse knock on the door and ask.

"Y'all decent in there?"

Damien pulled his shirt down and ran a hand through his hair, replying, "We're good."

Chanse swung the door open and you two stood there, a respectful distance apart.

You must not have looked too suspicious because nobody did anything out of the ordinary, whooping and hollering like they usually did.

You went back to your space next to Courtney, who raised an eyebrow at you.

You raised yours back at her to indicate 'Later.'

Then you leaned over and spun the can to continue the game.

To your luck (but mostly detriment), it landed on Amanda.

She whooped and stood up, you following.

You disappeared into the closet again, Damien watching you go with tingling lips.

Once Chanse closed the door, Amanda pounced.

"So, what happened between you and Damien?"

You debated telling her, but as much as you loved her, you knew she'd tell Angela, who would tell Chanse, who would tell Tommy, who would tell Spencer, and so on until everyone in the office knew what had transpired.

So, you said, "Nothing, we just talked."

"Nonsense!" she said, smiling. "There's no way you two locked in a confined space didn't finally get you to crack."

"You've been watching too many romance movies, Manda," you joked.

"But you admit it is Damien that you're crushing on, right?"

You hesitate in your answer again, a dead giveaway, and she claps her hands.

"I knew it!"

"Shh!" you chided. "I don't exactly want the whole office to know. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? Girl, you're perfect for each other, I'm telling you. The next Shayne and Courtney."

You frowned at that. You didn't want to be the next Shayne and Courtney. There already was a Shayne and Courtney.

"It's not like that," you insisted.

"And he totally didn't say anything in here that might've slightly implied he was into you?"

"I think you're really hot" echoed in your mind.

"No."

She threw her hands up. "Come on! You two suck at this."

You rolled your eyes playfully and spent the next few minutes answering Amanda's grilling questions and trying not to let what happened slip.

That was between you and Damien.

And maybe Courtney later.

Because Damien would definitely tell Shayne, right?

Chanse opened the door without hesitation this time, knowing he wouldn't find you and Amanda in a compromising position.

And the game went on.

But you weren't really paying attention, the kiss (or well, it was definitely more than that) lingering on your mind.

"Y/N, truth or dare?"

Fuck. That was Amanda.

If you picked truth she'd try to make you spill your guts. So you did something stupider.

"Dare."

She grinned like the Cheshire Cat and you regretted it immediately.

"I dare you to kiss Damien on the mouth."

Fuck, Amanda, you thought.

"Only with his consent," you shot back, hoping upon hope that he'd deny the request.

But this was Damien you were talking about. His bravado was coming out in his slightly tipsy state.

"I'm down."

Everyone whooped and hollered (of course) and Shayne was shaking Damien's shoulders in support.

You were cursing everyone in your head as you made your way over to him. Amanda for the dare, Damien for the consent, Courtney for suggesting seven minutes in heaven, Angela for suggesting truth or dare.

You got on your knees in front of him and he was smirking at you.

"I hate you for this," you said.

"No you don't," he replied.

And then you kissed him.

It wasn't at pleasurable as the first one, considering you were surrounded by your co-workers, but you couldn't deny the fireworks had returned.

God, Damien was a good kisser.

It was also then that you realized Amanda hadn't set a time for the kiss to last. And you were kissing him for way longer than you had to.

Anthony's watch went off, signaling the end of the seven minutes and, you decided, the end of you dare.

You pulled back from Damien, who looked a little dazed, and turned to Amanda.

"Good enough?" you asked.

She was grinning way too smugly. "Perfect."

You plopped next to Courtney who raised her eyebrows at you imploringly, practically begging for the insight.

You gave her a look that replied, 'Later, Court.'

She frowned, unsatisfied, but let it go.

The game went on way too far into the night, but you thankfully didn't have it land on you again.

You're not sure what you'd do if a) another one of your co-workers hit on you, or b) someone asked you about Damien again.

Everyone finally decided to call it a night at about 3 am and considering it was a Friday night, you all needed the weekend to recoup.

Especially you, since, you know, you'd just made out with Damien earlier.

You were preparing to leave when Courtney caught your arm.

"Now, please?" She almost begged.

You bit your lip, looking around at everyone, in various states of sober and tired. "Not here."

You glanced around for Shayne to let him know you were stealing his wife, but he was nowhere to be seen, allowing you and Courtney to hurry off to some secluded area of the office.

You ended up in the thankfully empty kitchen area.

"So?" she squealed. "What happened?"

"Damien and I...may have kissed a little."

"Yes!" she shouted.

"Shh!" you replied and she calmed down.

"Sorry. So what's that mean? Did you like it?"

"I think it was the best kiss I've ever had. But where do I go from here? Does he want more or was it just like a spur of the moment thing?"

Courtney shook their head. "From everything I know about Damien, he wouldn't do that without a reason."

"I think you're really hot," returned to your mind.

"And if the reason is he just thinks I'm hot?"

"Then use that as a basis for wanting more. Which, you do, right?"

You nodded. "Yeah, but...I don't know. We're not you and Shayne, what if it doesn't work out?"

"Then you're both mature enough to be professional about it, right?"

"I suppose."

"Then what's holding you back?"

You didn't reply, unsure. Fear?

"There you are," Shayne said, turning the corner. "I think Damien was looking for you, Y/N."

He had that look in his eyes that practically told you that he knew.

"Okay, um, have a good night, guys."

You walked off, noticing Damien standing next to the door with his leather jacket on and arms crossed.

He perked up when you walked towards him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," you replied. "So, about earlier..."

"I meant what I said. I think you're really hot. But I also really like you, Y/N. Can we...give this try?"

Your heart was pounding but you smiled as you said, "I'd love to."

He let out a breath. "Well, that's a relief."

You laughed.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Absolutely," you said before leaning in and whispering in his ear, "I'd love to pickup where we left off in the closet."

Damien's face went red and you thought you noticed him adjust his pants, making you heat up as well.

"Hey, you two, if you're gonna flirt, don't do it in my lobby," Ian called, standing across the room with Anthony, who laughed.

You debated on flipping him off, but just settled for grabbing Damien's hand and leaving.

"Better get used to the flirting," Damien joked. "I think we're gonna be doing it more often."

#damien haas x you #damien haas x reader #damien haas imagine #smosh x reader #smosh imagine

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selfishmachinez · 9 months ago

Note

About time I found someone who writes for mammon !! With that being said, I’d like to ask for him with a service top/dom reader? N maybe near the end once we’ve pleased him he returns the favor via oral ? ^^’

MAMMON WITH SERVICE TOP!READER

notes: HIIIHII THIS IS LITERALLY PERFECT??? GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET RN I LOVE THIS LITTLE THING SM☺️☺️ also im so sorry about the wait i got sick and didnt have inspo for like a day😔

warnings: not writing mammon's accent sorry💔 idk how to write accents properly just imagine it in ur mind idk; mammon being an asshole (hey, its mammon.); afab reader; insults like cunt/whore/bitch etc are still used in a gn way tho; my gf proofread like 80% of this if theres any typos blame her not me /j

word count: 1,510 (not including a/n)

NSFW UNDER CUT

okay lets get this straight

this man can NOT be a good dom

he's literally the single of greed what do you expect

our little pillow princess /hj

okay imagine this: after fizz quit, he's obviously PISSED OFF, so u do a little favor for him (wink wink)

Normally, during his Clown Pageants, you'd just sit next to him and the fizzbots on his web, watching the contestants try to win the crowd over, just to miserably fail, and watch Fizzarolli win... again.

This one had to be the most interesting one so far. Fizzarolli quit. And insulted Mammon too. He was pissed, to say the least.

You left the web a while before he "exploded" the Theatre and entered his office.

"That little bitch!" He shouted, bursting inside the office, not in full demon form anymore.

"Mam, the door." You warned him. But yeah, he pretty much already broke the door. Whatever. He's got the money, he'll get it fixed later.

He sat down on his bean bag next to you. "Can you believe it? I made that cunt! And he just walks out the scene like that!" He bitched, sitting down next to you. "That ungrateful, useless, little-" You shushed him before he could finish his sentence. "WHAT?" He growled at you.

"I think you need to, y'know, relax a little. You know what I mean?" You said, giving him the look. His eyes widened a little at the statement. "Just sit back and enjoy yourself, okay?" You said, running a hand under his motley.

"Fuck." He groaned. He was trying his hardest not to just rip his clothes off. He had a tough day. He needed this. He needed you. Your touch.

You run your hand down his pants, pulling his cock out. He was so painfully hard already. "You're this hard already? All because of me huh? You just love the attention, don't you?"

"Just- fuck, don't make me beg, you cunt." He moaned out, leaning back against the bean bag.

"Alright, boss," you said, your voice dripping with lust. You knew how much of a whore he was for that type of nickname.

brief interruption☝️ i hc his dick is about 10" (HAVE YOU SEEN HOW BIG HE IS ofc hes gonna have a huge cock) and has the same colors as his tongue (purple/periwinkle with dark yellow stripes) AND HELLA GIRTHY TOO HELLO????? CONTINUING,

You gently grip his cock, tracing circles on his tip with your thumb, causing the tiniest drop of pre-cum to leak out. "You like this already? Gosh, you ain't gonna last a second like this." You teased, beginning to stroke his dick at painfully slow rate.

"Doll, please," he panted out, in the most ridiculous fashion ever.

"Don't be greedy, Mam." You chuckled, he was so cute begging like this. "I thought you said you wouldn't beg."

"Maybe if you did a better job at this, bitch." He grunted.

"Do you want me to stop?" You said, softening your grip around his member, causing him to panic a bit. "No! Don't!" He begged, tugging at your sleeves with his bottom pair of arms. "Doll, c'mon. Don't leave me hanging."

"Hm," you wrapped another hand around his dick. "Fine, since you're being such a good boy." You'd have some work to do now. Giving him handjobs was always such a handful, no pun intended. Since he's big, a single hand was never enough. You thought about it for a while, forgetting what you were doing in the first place. "So?"

"Right. My bad." You got back to it quickly though; moving your hand up and down his member at a quicker pace, making him pant and whimper under your touch.

You wanted to give him a blowjob. Should you, though? Yes. Definitely. Even though the back of your throat would hurt horribly afterwards.

Your hands are quick to let go of him, making him tilt his head in confusion. "Whatcha doin'?" His confusion died down swiftly after he saw you kneel in front of him, pulling his pants down. "Don't." He said, grinning as he just ripped them off himself, spreading his legs. "Good boy." You mumbled, kissing his length.

While one of your hands rested on his inner thigh, rubbing gentle circles on it with your index finger, your tongue went from his base to his tip, feeling every little vein on the way up there.

"Fuck, pumpkin." He moaned, grabbing the back of your head. "Please." He lifted your head up to make you look at him. He gave you the most pathetic grin ever, sweating his ass off.

"Don't be a baby." You kissed his tip, making him moan, covering his mouth with his hand.

After teasing and edging him for a good 5 minutes, he had enough of that. "Just- ugh, please." He groaned, tugging at your hair. "Do it already. Ya teasing me too much."

"Stop being a brat, whore." You shut him up with that. "Good." Finally, you got to work. Though you only swallowed his tip at first, he was already a mess. But you had to keep going; you force yourself down his length as best as you could, licking and sucking on him. That was definitely not enough though, so you grab the part you couldnt get down your throat with your hand, caressing his base.

"Close. 'M so fucking-" He groaned, sending down little electric shocks. Oh, yeah, he does that sometimes.

another interruption, i hc him an being a ballooning/joro spider, since he kinda looks like one and they use electricity like him‼️ okay CONTINUING ONCE MOREEEE,,,,,

You took your mouth off him for a bit, gasping for air. "You're being so greedy, you know that?" You grinned at him. He looked like such a mess right now. Panting and sweating. But by god, did he look adorable like that. You go back to just gently licking down at his member, looking him in the eyes.

"Pumpkin, please, 'm so close- fuck..."

"Is that so? Hm?" You mumbled, kissing his base gently, going back to patting his tip with your palm. He greedily humped your palm, eager to cum.

He kept on buckling against your palm until he moaned loudly against his hand. "I'm gonna..." You pulled your hand away from his tip, letting him cum all over your face. He slumped down on the bean bag, gasping for air louder than he had to.

You sigh, getting up to grab some tissues to get you both cleaned. He calls you, "Yes?" You reply.

"Y'know, I could 'pay you back'." He grinned, getting up and grabbing you by the waist. "Ya just calmed me down, guess I owe you a little favor." Without warning you, he grabs you and throws you (as gently as he could) back on the bean bag, leaning on top of you, licking his own cum off your face.

"Cleaning the mess you made with your tongue like that? You slut." You fiddle with his jester hat. "What are you gonna do, huh?"

"Just trust me, sweet cheeks." He mumbled, taking your pants/skirt/shorts off. Oh. Was he gonna..? Normally, he wouldn't really pay you back, not that you wanted him to. You were perfectly fine with just pleasuring him. "You don't have to."

"I want to. Are you gonna let me do my thing, yeah?." He grumbled, taking your underwear off with his teeth. God.

"Mhm, yes sir." He kissed down at your v-line, making you tremble slightly.

a/n, i tried to hard to write an amab version but god im horrid at this

also holy shit have you seen his tongue

he def knows how to use it for good

im wet i mean who said that whaaaatttt🤯

He gently licked down at your clit. Once, twice. Then stopped. "Why'd you..?" But he shushed you by shoving a finger inside you. "Ya like this?" You answer with a weak moan, which he took as a "yes".

So, he put another finger in, scissoring them inside you. He sucked on your clit, making you moan and squirm. "Use... your tongue."

"Hm? What?" He pulled out, looking up at you, a wide grin spread across his face.

"You know what I mean." He looked back down at your cunt. You squished his face between your thighs. He took his fingers out, licking them before replacing them with his much longer and thicker tongue, making you whimper. Loudly. He moved his tongue inside you. Up and down, left and right, in and out.

It was rare for him to give you oral, but when he did, it felt like heaven. He pulled out, panting. But you shoved his face back there. He couldn't stop. Not now.

He quickly went back to eating you out, needily thrusting his tongue in and out your pussy.

"Good fucking God, Mammon-" And there he goes again, pulling his tongue out. "Why'd you stopp..." You whined. He looked down at your puffy and wet cunt. "Shouldn't have teased me earlier."

"What, but- but you know you like it!" Your tone dripped with desperation. You needed to cum so badly. Would he give you the satisfaction that early though? Obviously not. Not out of selfishness, he just had to give you a good orgasm. Like the one you gave him. "Mhm..." He huffed against your entrance, gently shoving a finger in while licking your clit in a circular motion.

He did so for a good 5 minutes, before adding a finger, then another one. You couldn't take it anymore. He was overstimulating you so much. You aggressively tugged at his hat, forcing him onto you even more. He took two fingers out, replacing the latter with his tongue.

You definitely couldn't take it anymore. "Mammon, I'm gonna..." Finally, he let you cum. Not that you let go of him for a good 10 seconds though. You gripped at his hat, still riding out your high.

"See, told ya I'd pay you back."

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #mammon x reader #helluva boss mammon #mammon helluva boss #mammon helluva boss x reader #helluva boss smut #mammon x you #selfishmachinez #i love you my little australian christmas tree #I LOVE FAT EVIL MEN

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dronebiscuitbat · 17 days ago

Text

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 100)

The sound of light snoring filled a 16 year old boys bedroom in the wee hours of the dusk, the wall adorned with guitars on racks and band posters displaying men with long hair.

His blankets were a charcoal black, his sheets a dark grey. On his desk lie a machine glowing with RGB, and whirring softly, and his seating options consisted of haphazardly arranged bean bags.

“Nico! ¡Levántate! ¡tienes tu turno en la puerta del búnker hoy!” Came harshly from the living room, and a drone with a mop of black hair grumbled, emerging from his nest of blankets like a member of the undead.

His purple eyeslights flickered on just to display his groggniess- another night of fitful sleep.

“Comin abuela!” He calls out in return, throwing the blankets off him and stumbling into the bathroom where he brushed his shoulder length hair and cleaned his teeth.

The only thing he was wearing was a pair of long black shorts, his hair was a mess, and when he looked at himself in the mirror he looked like a disheveled shelter dog.

“Ugh. Fuck me…”

He sighed as he gathered up clothes to wear for his shift guarding the front door, with everything going on, older students had the choice to volunteer to help with different projects instead.

And he'd take security work over a stuffy classroom any day.

He slid on a grey shirt and green cargo pants before fumbling around in his room to find his brown aviator jacket and matching goggles, then dug in his nightstand to find his service weapon- a 9mm pistol that would do nothing against a threat that wasn't a normal drone.

He strapped it to his hip and opened the the door to the living room where his grandmother was watching some kind of reality TV show, her legs covered in a knitted blanket.

“Morning.” He gave a half grin to her slightly yellowed frame, she smiled back, faded blue eyelights blinking at him.

“Buenos días mijo. Casi pensé que no te levantarías” She hummed, gently taking his hand as she couldn't quite see him even in his close proximity.

“Nada…No me iría de casa indefenso.” He replied before sighing. “Por favor, usa tus gafas abuela…”

She shook her head. “Ah, no. Not like it will help anyway.” She switched to english, probably not even realizing she'd switched at all. “You be safe mijo! Don't be a idiota!”

He chuckled softly. “Done enough of being stupid… no worries. See you when I get back.”

He shut the door behind him, stopping to stand just in front of his door to watch several people walk by- a deadpan expression seeping onto his face.

“Let's get this over with…”

He traipsed down the hall towards the bunker doors. Getting shoulder checked and ignored all the way through; he was decently tall for a worker drone but that didn't stop people from not caring enough to get out of his way.

It was kind of his luck. Hell, his whole families luck it seemed. He should've been named Murphy, because every single bad thing that could happen; did.

His father was murdered outside the bunker before he was even born, and his mother only took care of him for the first four years of his life before dumping him on her mother and bailing. He couldn't parse her out from the crowd even if she was still around.

So it was just him and his dear Abuela, and it had been for most of his life, which he was fine with, she was a lovely woman and had raised him well. Though recently her opticals had begun to fail…

Just another thing added to the list of mundane and shitty aspects of his life.

Why couldn't his problems be more fantastical? At least then he could be miserable and interesting instead of miserable and bored to fucking death.

He reached the front of the bunker on complete autopilot, settling into his post next to the open door, snow blistering around him while he leaned against the frozen concrete.

Despite how lonely it often got, he did find himself enjoying his time out here, one earbud in his audials while he watched the ship that would take them all away from here be built.

He'd actually begun as a welder, and was pretty good at it too- the only problem being that he was too impatient for it, he would get into a flow and then burn his hands because he wasn't paying attention… so now he was put on simple security.

“Hey Nico. Just get here?” His watch partner and now, one of his close friends patting his shoulder as she walked by with a piping hot cup of gasoline for the both of them.

“Hey Nellie. Yeah. Kinda slept in…” He replied, looking into the girls green eyelights and near silvery hair that hung down to the small of her back.

“Boss should be back from the expedition today with the ‘cords. All that's left after that is preparing that monstrosity to go.” She pointed to the ship, now being coated in heat shielding for its cone and underbelly.

“You think it'll actually work? Some of that shits starting to get in our pipes now… it's gonna get impossible to clean out soon.”

She shrugged. “If it don't, I say let's have one last hurrah until we all munched, if the planets gonna take everything; let's not let it take our joy too…”

“And if it does?”

She laughed. “Then I'll kiss you. How about that?”

He blushed at that, looking away sheepishly. “I think I'd take you up on that.”

The air cracked with supersonic pressure, alerting both drones to a yellow blur quickly decending, preparing to land just in front of them and they both braced themselves, snow getting flung everywhere as something big and mechanical landed with a loud thud.

After everything settled, what remined standing before them was tall, formidable, and had a long tail with a stinger. A Murder Drone…

Carrying a small, feisty, visibly pregnant little worker, and both were smiling like idiots.

“You said slow.”

“That was slow!”

“You broke the sound barrier!”

Nico felt his features soften. Good, they were both back in one piece, and it seems to have went well If their playful bickering was anything to go by.

…

There was one more reason he really enjoyed being out here, instead of in there.

“Mama! Papa!” Little Tera was calling from the arms of a drone with blonde hair and white eyelights, reaching out for her parents as N nearly ran to take her out of the workers arms.

“Oh hello my baby bat! Papi missed you yes he did!” He spun her, making a cascade of happy giggles escape her mouth.

Nico smiled at the sight, feeling his heart swell before a pang of deep regret hit him like a truck.

It wasn't supposed to be this way…

That night with Chloe was supposed to be fun, no consequence. She'd told him she was sixteen too, acted like she'd never done anything before right up until she absolutely blew his mind- but he'd chalked it up to it being his first time.

Then; nothing. Radio silence, he didn't see her in his classes, didn't see her in the halls or any other party he'd went to, like she'd been a ghost.

Until she called him five months later to meet her at the nursery.

He thought the meeting place was odd, but at the time didn't seem to care, he was just excited to see her again, being unable to wipe the night from his memory- he'd wanted something more substantial ever since then…

What he arrived to, was her holding a pillbaby put with one hand- which she dropped unceremoniously into his arms before just walking away without explaining a damn thing.

He didn't need one though. He knew the moment the babies eyes opened and he was staring into his own eyelights, when her mouth opened to let out a coo and she weakly rolled into into him.

He held her close, alone aside from Mrs.Rayn in the nursery, having to sit down because his legs threatened to give out underneath him.

At first… he just admired her, she was mostly inert now having been just transferred and having no life experience other then him in that moment. But she was perfect in every way.

Then he… thought about how he'd have to adjust, he'd have to drop out of school, move out- but… he couldn't move out, abuela couldn't see very well and without him she could hurt herself…

Okay… so he couldn't move out, that's fine. So it was drop out, keep taking care of his grandmother and the new addition, and get a job so he could make sure she'd have toys and extra bottles and all the oil she needed.

But… taking care of the both of them would be a full time job- he couldn't be out all day and expect his grandmother to help raise yet another baby.

He started to tremble when he made that revelation. How absolutely upset his grandmother was going to be at him, how utterly impossible it would be to try and juggle everything this little baby would need at the age of 16.

And he started to cry uncontrollably, hugging her tightly as his heart unraveled out onto the floor. Ugly sobs wracking through his body as he went through the last… and most viable option. To leave her here.

Yet he still stayed for another hour, basking in his daughter's presence, memorizing it to the best of his ability.

He'd given her a name- even knowing it would never be used.

Mariposa, his little butterfly.

And then, he went to the front desk, legs feeling like lead and with shaky breaths, and handed her to Mrs. Rayn.

She didn't even have time to ask a question before he was gone, not being able to bear being there a second longer without breaking down into more tears.

When he got back to his room, he collapsed in a heap of despair. Sitting on the edge of his bed just staring into space, the weight of what he'd done threatening to crush him.

After an hour of that. He called Chloe, she didn't pick up but he didn't exactly need her to. He just needed to fucking scream.

So he did.

He left a thirty minute long expletive filled rant as a message before throwing his phone in fit of absolute rage and then collapsing as tears ran down the inside of his visor again.

He had a daughter, a pillbaby with his code and the circumstances of her birth and his life had made it impossible for him to be there for her in the way he wanted to be.

He knew, realistically, this was the best choice for both of them, he wouldn't have to uproot everything and she would have a much higher quality of life, she'd have two parents who'd love her instead of just him, a 16 year old boy who barely knew how to take care of himself.

The next morning, and the day after that, and the day after that he went to visit her secretly, giving her tickles or admiring her before he went to school. His heart hurting knowing that there was going to be a day soon where she'd be gone.

And then the day came.

And she was gone.

He was brought back to the moment by a happy laugh, Tera pulling her mother's beanie off as she climbed her head, looking overjoyed to be with her parents.

She was so happy now, so energetic, so wild and carefree, he felt cemented in his choice, that it was the right one. But sometimes he was simply just jealous of her new parents; despite the fact they seemed wonderful.

They got to experience her first words, first steps, spoil her rotten. All the things he wanted to do, to be the dad he never got to have.

“Papi! Happy! Mama!” She yelped out a short string of words, beaming happily as the family went inside. Resting on her mother's shoulder- they made eye contact.

She recognized him, not as her dad but… as someone she knew. Her mouth tilted upwards and she gave him a happy wave, kicking her feet.

He gave a small, bittersweet wave in return.

Next ->

#murder drones #oil is thicker then blood #uzi doorman #asks #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #tera doorman #n and uzi #hi #yeah work is making these a little harder to pump out i'm SORRY #also enjoy some angst hehe

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 14, Unfiltered - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussions of sex.

Word Count: 3.7k

Previously On...: Nat and Wanda did their best to comfort you after Bucky's absolutely stunning betrayal.

A/N: Bucky attempts to explain himself.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1 @les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43 @wolfgirl21

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You didn’t leave your room for a week, only letting Nat and Wanda in, and even then, just for short intervals. You spent your days talking to FRIDAY, trying to process what had happened that night with Bucky, and your nights sobbing for everything that you’d lost, and everything you’d now never have.

On the seventh day, you left your room, knowing that it was time to talk to him. Putting it off any longer wouldn’t do either of you any good. You weren’t fully prepared, but then again, you figured you probably would never be. Not really.

You bit your lip as you knocked on his door, fingers toying with the cuff of the long-sleeved shirt you were wearing, not wanting Bucky to see the healing welts you’d rubbed into your skin. There was a part of you that was convinced he would answer the door in a state of undress, with Jade naked in his bed. You’d probably just throw yourself off the top of the Tower if that happened. Insult to injury, and all that.

But the Bucky that answered the door was a Bucky you had never seen before– he hadn’t shaved in days, the bags under his eyes were the heaviest you’d ever seen them, his hair greasy as though he hadn’t washed it since the last time you saw him. He was wearing a white tank top, stained yellow with perspiration, and his eyes were red and bloodshot, as though he’d also spent the last seven days in tears. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him look before.

“Pocket,” he breathed when he saw you standing there before him, a touch of awe in his voice as though he didn’t fully believe you were real.

“You look like shit, Barnes,” you said, matter of factly. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him that, but you wanted him to know, all the same.

He barked a humorless laugh. “Look like shit, feel like shit, because I am shit,” he said. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he amended quickly, “cause I am; so happy. Just figured you’d want nothing more to do with me after what I did. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Came to talk,” you told him, clutching your elbow with one arm. The tension between the two of you was thicker than it had ever been, and it made the air feel difficult to breathe.

“You did?” Bucky asked, his eyes going wide with surprise, and a little bit of hope. “Yeah, come in, come in.” He moved aside, ushering you into his room. You looked around; it had been ages since you’d been inside, and you’d forgotten how sparse the space had been. The room smelled stale. You noticed a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor and sighed.

“Back on the floor?” you asked, not turning to look at him.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… don’t sleep so great on my own anymore, I guess.”

You turned to look at him, a heavy beat of silence hanging between you.

“Look,” you said eventually, at the same time he said “Listen.” You nodded at him, indicating he should speak first.

Bucky motioned to a chair, and you sat down, perched at the edge of the seat, not comfortable enough to relax into it. “Listen,” he began, “I’ve had a lot of time over the last week to think about my actions, and I’ve spoken a lot to Raynor; she helped me work through some stuff, and I owe you an explanation.” You raised your eyebrows at him, and he was quick to add: “An explanation, not an excuse. So, here goes: back when you said I was having an ‘emotional affair’ with Carthage, I didn’t take you seriously, and I’m sorry. Truth is, I had no idea what that even was, that it was an actual thing. The concept didn’t even exist in my time, so the words didn’t mean anything to me. I just thought you were making something up, being jealous, blowing things out of proportion, looking for a reason to be mad at me.

“But after the other night, Nat brought up the words again, told me I was having one with Carthage, so I got on the computer and looked it up. And you were right. You were right this whole time, and I’m so sorry. I swear to you that I never touched her, but I got too close to her, let her get too close to me, and I was prioritizing her over you again and again. I knew it was hurting you, but I kept telling myself that you were overreacting, because she and I were just friends. I hadn’t touched her, never thought about touching her, so I couldn’t see where I’d done anything wrong, and you were getting upset over nothing. I realize now how fucked up that was, how wrong. How, every time I chose to spend time with her over you, I was betraying you, betraying our relationship. I see that now.

“I shared shit with her that I didn’t share with you. At first, I told myself it was because you wouldn’t understand– things about Hydra, things about my past– but she would, because she’d lived it, too, you know? But then, it turned into telling her about my nightmares, my feelings, our relationship. Things I never shared with you, because I didn’t want to change the way you saw me; same reason I never shared them with Steve. I convinced myself that I was protecting you from even more of my trauma but, the more I talked to her, the more I…” he paused and swallowed, as if the next words were going to be physically painful, “the more I began resenting you. She told me that, if I was honest with you about everything, if you knew the full extent of the things I’ve done, what I’m capable of, then you wouldn’t want me. And she got me believin’ it.” “Bucky,” you said, your voice as hoarse with pain from his words as if you’d been screaming, “I have never judged you for the things Hydra made you do. When have I ever given you reason to believe that I’d accept anything less than every part of you, the dark and the light?”

“You didn’t, sweets,” he said, bowing his head. “You never did. But you know I’ve always thought you were too good for me. Carthage got in my head, fed that fear. Made me think that she was the only one who truly got me, understood me, better than you, better than Steve, because she’d lived it, too. How could she judge me when she’d been made to be just as rotten?”

You were speechless. First, that he had carried all that inside, despite how much you had begged him to be open with you, and second, that he’d once again taken Jade’s word, her opinion, above your own. That he had taken her at face value and didn’t come to you, to talk to you, to see if you truly felt the way he was just assuming you did.

“I knew she wanted me,” he continued as he toyed with the metal fingers of his vibranium hand, and despite your intense desire to interject, to blow up at him, you did your best to keep quiet, to let him say what he needed to say. “Maybe not consciously at first, but she wasn’t subtle about it. I… I liked the attention. It made me feel good, knowing that there was someone else out there, not just you, who could be attracted to me, after everything I’d done. That there was more than one person who thought I deserved love.”

You wanted to say something, to speak up and tell him how fucking stupid he’d been, how utterly unfair to you, but the words wouldn’t come. You’d lost your will to fight.

“All of that, the understanding, the attention, the acceptance– I… I don’t want to say I became addicted to it,” Bucky said, “but I definitely didn’t want it to stop, to give it up. It was easier for me to convince myself that you were the one with the problem; that you were trying to keep me from being friends with the one person who I thought really got me, because you were jealous. I didn’t allow myself to think there was any chance you were justified, because that would mean I had to admit I’d been in the wrong, that I’d have to give up her friendship. I didn’t want to do that, so I dismissed your concerns.

“The worst part was, I wasn’t oblivious to the way she treated you. I heard her jabs, saw how obnoxious she was, but I figured ‘if I’m still going home with Pocket every night, if I’ve never touched Carthage, then why does it matter?’. The things she did, the stuff she said, it was meaningless to me, because I knew I was never going to leave you for her. I didn’t stop to consider that you didn’t know that, that I hadn’t been doing my part to prove it to you, that I was giving you so much cause to doubt me.”

Bucky looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Steeling himself. You held your breath; absolutely terrified to hear what he might say next.

“The truth of it… fuck, this is so hard to admit… The truth of it is that a part of me liked that you were jealous of her. It made me feel… wanted, like I was worth something, like I had value. God. It sounds fucked when I say it out loud. I’m so sorry, Pocket.”

You just stared at him. If he thought it was hard to admit, how fucking difficult did he think all of this was for you to hear?

“Let me make sure I understand this properly,” you said, hearing every ounce of exhaustion you felt in your voice, “You knew she had feelings for you, but you didn’t want to take my concerns seriously.” Bucky opened his mouth to interject, but you interrupted. “No, Barnes. I let you talk. It’s my turn. You knew her actions were hurting me, but they boosted your ego too much for you to stop them. You resented me because you didn’t think I could fully understand you, but you kept things from me out of some misguided duty to ‘protect’ me. You were angry at me for being jealous of Carthage, but you wanted me to be, because it made you feel good. You saw how badly she treated me, but you did nothing to stop it because, it wasn't directly affecting you. Do I have that all correct?”

Bucky groaned and leaned over, putting his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he grumbled. “Yeah. God, I’m a fucking piece of shit.”

You didn’t know if he was looking for you to reassure him that wasn’t the case, but in the moment, you happened to wholeheartedly agree, so you didn’t address it. Instead, you asked: “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

Bucky nodded sadly. “Sometimes,” he said, closing his eyes and taking another deep breath, “sometimes I thought about what it would be like to date her.” You clenched your fist, nails digging painfully into your palms. He opened his eyes again. “I wondered if she would make me happy, if being with her would be easier. You and I were fighting so much by that point, I started wondering if maybe the grass was greener, but every time I thought about it just felt wrong, a perversion. I knew, no matter how bad you and I were fighting, I could never be happy with her, because she wasn’t you. I meant what I told you– in seventy five years, it’s only been you. You’re it for me.”

It was your turn to close your eyes. God, you wanted to believe he was telling you the truth, that you really were it, but… he had just made it so fucking hard to believe him.

“She asked me to leave you,” he said abruptly. Your eyes flew open, and you stared at him. You weren’t sure what expression was on your face, but it must have distressed Bucky, because he immediately began clarifying. “I didn’t agree to it!” he said, speaking rapidly, as if to make sure he got out everything he needed to say before you realized you’d had enough and walked out. “It was when she asked me to come to the med bay. When she was having her panic attack. Or, I guess, when she claimed she was having a panic attack.” You raised an eyebrow; you’d warned him she was most likely faking, using his protective, caring nature to manipulate him. Yet another time he’d put her word ahead of yours.

He continued: “She begged me to break up with you. Said she heard us fightin’ all the time, that it wasn’t healthy. Claimed you were trying to control me by dictating who I could or couldn’t spend my time with-- that you were being just as bad as Hydra. Kept tellin’ me I deserved someone who trusted me, someone who understood me. Someone like her.” Bucky sighed. “The fact that I’d behaved in a way that made her think it would even be a possibility, that I would even consider it– it made me sick. I didn’t want to believe that I had been so obtuse, and that it was my fault you kept hurtin’, but there was the evidence, right in front of me, and I couldn’t argue it away to myself anymore.”

“But you still stayed with her all day,” you said quietly. “You could have come back to me, and we could have gone Upstate like we were supposed to. But you chose to put her ahead of me, again.”

Bucky swallowed and looked up at you through his lashes. “I was fucking stupid,” he said eventually. “I didn’t want to admit to myself that I’d made such a colossal mistake. Told myself that, if she confessed her feelings to me, and I still just tried to be a good friend, then I wasn’t guilty of anything, even though, deep down, I knew that was bullshit.”

“So, you just kept putting her first in an effort to, what? Convince yourself you weren’t putting her first?” You rubbed your eyes. “Bucky, that’s a lot of fucking mental gymnastics to try to get yourself off the hook for being an asshole.”

“And I fucking hate myself for letting it get to that point,” he said desperately. “Everything I did as the Winter Soldier– none of that compares to the regret I feel for what I ended up doing to you. I don’t know how to begin making amends for that.” He caught your eye, holding your gaze steady in his.

“And as for the other night… The things I said… I know it doesn’t fix it, doesn’t make it right, but I swear to you, I didn’t realize how messed up it was. I should have, I get that now, but everyone’s just… so much more open about sex and all that than they were when I was younger. I thought, maybe this is just how people talk to one another now, maybe this is normal, and I just hadn’t caught up with it yet. She was so eager to talk about it, and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore, or even if the lines still existed.”

“That shit was beyond hurtful, Bucky,” you told him, trying not to let yourself get emotionally swept up in the memory. “I’ve never felt more degraded or ashamed than I did that night.”

“And I am so, so sorry for that, love. I hate that I made you feel that way. I didn’t mean a word of what I said to you. You know I don’t think of you like that– I never have– she was so good at convincing me that it was normal, that it was something every girl liked, and I was dumb enough to believe her. It felt disgusting to say, shoulda known how disgusting it woulda been for you to hear it, but I swear on my ma’s grave, I only ever did it because I thought it was my last chance to keep you, to make you want to stay with me. Thought if I gave you something different, you wouldn’t want to leave me. Only other girls I’ve talked to since I came outta cryo for good, I can count on less than two hands– Nat, Wanda, Pepper, Shuri, Okoye, Ayo, Carthage, and you, so I didn’t really have a lot of resources to pull from.”

“But why would you even need to think we needed something different?” you asked. “It’s not like you ever left me unsatisfied.”

“The same stupid thing,” he said. “I trusted Carthage. I told her you and I hadn’t been spending as much, uh, personal time together as we used to, and she said maybe you were gettin’ bored of me. Maybe I wasn’t doin’ enough to please you, keep you happy in bed. She said couples needed to spice things up to keep it interesting, and when you said you were breaking up with me, it was my Hail Mary play. I was terrified of losing you. I get now that she was just stirring shit.”

You sighed. “You should have come to me,” you said. “About all of it. Any of it. We could have had a chance if you’d been upfront with me from the beginning, about everything. But you chose her over me, time and time again.” You stood up to leave, having heard enough.

“So, it’s really over then?” he asked mournfully. “There’s really nothing I can do to fix this mess? To get you back?”

You rubbed your temples with both hands. “I can’t stress enough how much you’ve hurt me, Bucky.”

“And I’m so sorry, doll,” he said. “I’d give anything to make it right. Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it. I love you.”

“See, that’s the thing,” you said, giving him a sad smile. “Love’s not enough. I just don’t trust you anymore. I want to. Fuck, I want to so badly, it hurts, but you’ve broken me. And some cracks, you can’t fix.”

Bucky choked back a sob. “But you’re my best friend,” he said. “I can’t not have you in my life. There’s gotta be something I can do to re-earn your trust. Just name it.”

You heaved a sigh. He was your best friend, too, and frankly, you missed him like that. You didn’t know how long it would take to trust him again, or if you’d ever even be able to, but you couldn’t not give him a chance to try. You still loved him too much for that. You had one idea, though you doubted very much that he would agree to it.

“You want to earn back my trust?” He nodded vehemently. “Cut all contact with her. No more training, no more runs, no missions. No more communication between you, at all. No conversation, no calls, no texts, nothing. You see her in the halls, you pass by like she doesn’t exist. She’s invisible. A ghost. She tries to initiate, you turn away. She touches you, you put that serum to use and you run in the other direction. For all intents and purposes, she is dead to you. You give her such a cold shoulder, she thinks she’s back in fucking Siberia. Prove to me that she’s nothing to you. Really and truly nothing. Prove to me that you really meant it when you said you’d choose me over her every time, and I might consider giving you a chance to fix this. I’m not saying we’ll end up back together, but maybe we could be friends again. Think you can do that?”

Bucky nodded vehemently and reached for his phone. “I’ll just text her right now and tell her I can’t speak to her anymore.”

“No,” you said, putting a hand out to cover his phone. “She doesn’t get the courtesy, and you don't get to pin this on me. You cut her out cold turkey, immediately, otherwise this is never going to work. You have to want to do that.” Bucky seemed to hesitate “It’s a limited-time offer, Barnes. Either you accept it, right now, or we’re finished. Your choice.”

Bucky nodded, his face resolute. “Okay,” he said, putting his phone back down. “I accept.”

Well. That was surprisingly easy. In fact, it seemed a little too easy. Sure, maybe his intentions were good, but, given his actions in the past, you were going to need more assurances than just his words. “Actually, you know what?” you asked, holding out your hand, “give me your phone.”

“What for?” Bucky asked, looking surprised.

“Well, first I’m going to go through your messages with her,” you told him, matter of factly, “and then I’m going to block her number so you can’t contact each other.”

“That seems like an invasion of privacy,” Bucky protested cautiously.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s privacy, and then there’s secrecy, Barnes. You’ve already proven yourself a little too comfortable with the latter, so you can’t really expect me to offer you much of the former right now, can you?” You took a few steps toward the door. “Your hesitation is telling me all I need to know.”

“Wait, doll, no!” Bucky said, moving to come between you and the door. He held out his phone. “Here. Do… do what you need to do, just…” he swallowed, “just… know you’re probably not going to like everything you see.”

Fucking wonderful. You eyed him narrowly before taking the phone and returning to sit down. With a heart full of trepidation, you entered your birthday, unlocking the screen, and navigated to his SMS app.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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