#give me that cheese tray | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corroded-hellfire · 2 years

Text

Love Comes Walking In - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie didn’t want to go to prom, until he wanted to go with Chrissy. You wanted to go to prom, but not if Eddie is going to go with Chrissy. But above everything, you want Eddie to be happy.

Note: this whole thing mostly came about because I wanted to write the one scene with Dustin. You’ll know the one.

Words: 6k

Eddie teasing you was nothing new. His lighthearted jabs about your skirt making you look preppy or having sleepy eye boogers first thing in the morning roll off your back, occasionally even making you laugh along. But when he teases you about wanting to go to prom, that gets under your skin.

Wanting one special night to wear a pretty gown with glowing makeup and neatly styled hair didn’t sound stupid to you. To your best friend, it seemed like torture. The whole school year Eddie would rag on you about buying into the whole conformist commercialism that you thought of as a rite of passage. That makes it even worse when he suddenly changes his tune just a week before the dance.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jeff complains.

Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just because I changed my mind doesn’t mean I’m ridiculous,” he argues.

“You changed your mind because of a girl!” Gareth shouts.

Jabbing your green beans with your plastic fork, you stay silent as the boys bicker back and forth. Part of you was also afraid to open your mouth, unsure of what would come out.

“You say that like I’d go to prom with any girl,” Eddie snaps. “I’m not saying I’m going, I’m saying I would go with Chrissy.”

The fork is clutched so hard in your hand that you think it’s going to snap in half.

“What’s wrong with wanting to go with anyone?” Jeff asks.

Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him and wrinkles his face up in distaste, not bothering to give a verbal response.

“Hypocrite,” you mumble under your breath.

“I am not.” Eddie stares at you and your head jerks up in surprise that he heard you.

“Yes, you are,” you say. “You’ve made fun of me all year for wanting to go and now because you have a crush, it’s different? Bullshit.”

“I changed my mind,” Eddie reiterates.

“Fine,” you say with a huff. It’s not worth arguing with him over.

“Maybe you should apologize,” Dustin suggests softly.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Come on, you have been on her ass about it all year,” Dustin says.

“Thanks, Dustin,” you say. “But it’s fine.”

Eddie opens his mouth, but you don’t give him a chance to speak. Chair legs scraping against the floor, you push your seat back and stand up from the table. The guys all watch as you leave, dumping your tray in the trash before stalking out of the cafeteria.

Arguments with Eddie rarely happened. They’re so rare that neither of you know how to react when you next see each other. Are you still fighting? Has it been long enough where you both can pretend like nothing ever happened? There’s no chance to talk to one another in your shared algebra class the next day, so it wasn’t until lunch that you really came face to face. Eddie’s at the table before you, and you plop down in your usual seat next to him.

“We cool?” Eddie asks as you’re in the middle of lifting a forkful of mac and cheese to your open mouth.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, eyeing him over your full fork. “I guess.”

“Good.” He slouches down in his seat, as if he can relax now that he knows you’re on good terms. “Oh shit, here I got you something.” Eddie reaches into his metal lunchbox and pulls out a Three Musketeers bar. “Band kids are selling candy, so I bought your favorite for you. Hide it before Henderson gets here or he’ll steal it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a grin. This was exactly the reason why your feelings for Eddie would never go away. Just when he pisses you off to the point where you swear you’re never going to sit with him at lunch again, he turns around and does something sweet and thoughtful without expecting anything in return.

“Breaking news, losers,” Gareth says as he drops his tray on the table. “I have a prom date.”

“Well shit, I guess hell has frozen over,” Mike says as he and Dustin join the rest of you.

“You’re not a senior,” Jeff points out.

“No, but my date is.” Gareth’s smirk is enough to earn an eye roll from both you and Eddie.

“Who’s that desperate?”

Gareth throws a French fry at you - which you dodge - before he answers.

“Calling Kel desperate?”

“What?” you almost screech. “How are you going with one of the sweetest girls at school?”

“I’m super cool,” he says, making the rest of you bust out in laughter.

“But seriously,” Jeff says.

“You’re all assholes,” Gareth says before digging into his food. “At least I have a date.”

Eddie goes to reply, but you’re afraid of what he’s going to say, so you scoop up your backpack and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once you step out of the cafeteria, you roll out your neck and shoulders, trying not to think of Eddie back in there talking about prom with the guys. You push the girl’s bathroom door open and breathe a sigh of relief when you’re the only one in there. Dropping your bag on the floor between your feet, you lean forward on one of the sinks and look at yourself in the mirror. A few deep breaths later, you feel your body relax. It’s short lived, however, when the door squeaks open on old hinges and two cheerleaders step in.

You feel bad for the guttural reaction you have to seeing Chrissy’s blonde ponytail swinging behind you in the mirror. She is a complete sweetheart who wouldn’t hurt a fly, but the jealous green-eyed monster rears its ugly head and your fingers dig into the cool porcelain.

“It really sucks,” the other cheerleader says to Chrissy. You know you’ve seen her around, but you don’t know her name. Both cheerleaders park at the sinks next to you to touch up their makeup. Chrissy throws you a bright smile and a friendly wave before taking her lip gloss out and turning back towards her friend.

“I know,” Chrissy says. “I knew we were going to break up, but I was hoping for it to be after prom. How am I supposed to find a new date in a week?”

“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that,” her friend assures her.

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says with a sigh. “Everyone probably has their dates by now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your pulse is raging in your ears and sweat is starting to make your hands slip against the sink. The internal debate rages inside of you. Do you let your jealousy get in the way of something that will make Eddie happy? It would throw away any shot you had of going to prom with Eddie yourself - but you know that was a long shot anyway.

Still undecided, you take a step back from the sink, and your backpack falls over. You bend down to pick it up and the Three Musketeer bar falls out. It feels like your gaze should melt the chocolate that’s laying before you. Damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness at buying you the stupid candy. You toss it back in your bag, wincing as you prepare self-destruction.

“Hey, Chrissy,” you say.

She turns to you with a smile, putting the top back on her lip gloss.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“I, uh, didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” you say as you slide your backpack on. You can’t manage to look her in the eyes as you speak. “But I know someone who doesn’t have a date yet.”

“You do?” She perks up in interest and the souring of your stomach almost keeps you from going further.

“Yeah.” It sounds painful coming out of your mouth and you hope neither cheerleader notices. “Um, Eddie? Eddie Munson.”

“Really?” her friend asks. She crosses her arms over her chest and juts a hip out. You’re two seconds away from smacking the snotty look off her face when Chrissy speaks up.

“Eddie is great,” Chrissy says, looking over her shoulder at her friend before looking back at you. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Think he’ll say yes if I ask him?”

“I do.” Those two words were almost the hardest to get out. It was killing you how much of an understatement it was.

“Okay!” The eagerness in her voice makes you want to cry. There’s no way you’ll be able to face Eddie back in there.

“You can, um, ask him now if you want,” you say with a shrug. With a deep breath, you head towards the bathroom door. You stop halfway out the door and turn back around. “Oh, if Eddie asks,” you say, doubting he would because he’d be too consumed by the fact that his dreams were coming true, “can you just tell him I wasn’t feeling well and left?”

“No problem.” Her brow furrows in concern and she takes a step towards you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” It’s the biggest lie you’ve told in a while. “Cramps.” You put your hand to your lower abdomen and Chrissy gives you a sympathetic nod.

“Feel better!”

Without answering her, you walk out of the bathroom and down the hall, to the school exit. As soon as you slide into your car, the tears start. They start pouring so heavily and your hands shake so badly that you can’t put your key in the ignition. Momentarily giving up, you drop the keys in your lap and drop your head down to the steering wheel.

Giving yourself enough time to get the worst of it out, you pull back and use your sleeves to wipe down your face. With a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to center yourself. After a few breaths in and out, in and out, you’re able to get the keys in the ignition on the first try. You pull your car out of the parking lot and head towards your house. The conversation you had with Chrissy keeps going through your head and you can’t keep from picturing the euphoric look that will be on Eddie’s face when she asks him. The saving grace you’re holding on to is the fact that Chrissy immediately defended Eddie to her friend. There aren’t many people in the school who would do that.

Luckily, no one is home when you get to your house and you’re able to go inside and sulk in peace in your bed. More tears leak out as you hug your pillow to your chest. You must end up falling asleep because the persistent ringing of your doorbell jolts you awake sometime later. Heart racing from the adrenaline, you pull yourself out of bed and drag yourself to the front door.

Eddie’s standing on the other side and it’s the first time his smile has ever broken your heart.

“You are the best!” He swoops into your house and wraps you up in his arms. “Oh shit, sorry. I forgot, Chrissy said you’re having some girl pains.”

Right.

“They’re better now that I’ve rested,” you say. “And you don’t have to thank me. Just doing what a good friend would do, right?”

“The best friend in the world!” He takes your head in his hands and presses a loud smacking kiss to your forehead. His happiness is infectious and despite your foul mood, a small smile curls on your mouth.

“Now,” he says, taking both of his hands in yours. “We have to find a date for you.”

“Oh.” Your face drops and you shake your head. “I’m not going to go.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that Eddie would still be thinking about how you wanted to attend prom. The idea of his own perfect date should’ve been occupying his whole brain, but damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness.

“What?” Eddie immediately frowns and it tugs at your heart. It tempts you to tell him you’ll go, but the mental image of Eddie dressed up and dancing with a flawless-as-usual Chrissy makes you bite your tongue.

“You were right before,” you tell him. “It’s dumb and there’s shitty music. Plus, the dresses are way too expensive.” The dress you planned on wearing was already in your closet, but Eddie didn’t need to know that.

“Are you sure?” Eddie dips his head down to meet your eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you questioningly.

“Yeah,” you tell him.

“I’m going to miss you there,” he says, and you almost slip up and laugh out loud at his statement.

“Oh please, you’ll be having way too much fun to notice I’m not there.”

“Like that could happen,” Eddie says with a skeptical look.

You don’t bother arguing with him, even though you know he’s wrong.

On your way to the cafeteria the next day, you can’t bring yourself to walk in. You know if you do then you’re just going to be hearing about plans for prom and you don’t trust yourself not to break down in tears in front of everyone. There was no way you could avoid the guys entirely until prom, but you couldn’t face them today. Eddie doesn’t want to be with you. He wants to be with Chrissy. And you have to make yourself seem okay with that somehow. Just not today.

There’s a vending machine on the way to the gym, so you pick up a bag of crackers and a bottle of coke. The gymnasium is empty, so you take a seat on the bottom row of bleachers and start to eat your sad little lunch. It’s easy to let your mind wander, so you try to redirect it away from where it wants to go. Usual calming fantasies revolve around Eddie in some way, but that’s out of the question right now.

Your mind can’t stray far from Eddie though, so you let your mind divulge in a little dark fantasy as you eat. What would happen if you just ran away? What would happen if you just threw some clothes in a bag and bolted? You would never actually do it, but imagining Eddie being sad over you leaving brings you a sick sort of comfort. Because he would miss you. You know he loves you, it’s just not in the same way that you wish.

As you crumble up your wrapper in your hand, the gym door opens and a familiar hat over tousled curls walks in. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at you, as he walks your way with his hands in his pockets. Sneakers squeak across the shiny floor and come to a sudden halt as he stops in front of you.

Dustin dips his chin down and raises his eyes to look at you. He takes one hand out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

“Yes?” you ask, looking between his eyes and his hand.

“I know what you did for Eddie,” he says. “We all know. Except for him, he’s an idiot. But it really was a nice thing to do. I never could’ve done it.”

“Thanks,” you say skeptically, unsure of where he was going with this.

“He told us you said you don’t want to go to prom. I know that’s bullshit. So,” he says, bringing his hand back and extending it to you again, “I am asking you if I may take you to the prom.”

Your eyes immediately well with tears as you look up at the boy in front of you. Dustin was always one of the sweetest people you knew, but this was taking it to a whole other level.

“Oh, Dustin,” you say. You take his hand and tug his arm until he’s sitting on the bleacher next to you. “That is the sweetest offer I’ve gotten in my entire life. But I can’t go to prom.”

Dustin sighs and nods his head.

“Can’t see them together?” he asks.

“Correct.”

He wraps his arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“So, everyone knows, huh?” you ask.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you stare at Eddie a lot.”

The laughter that bubbles out of you is so unexpected that you bring your hand up to cover your mouth.

“I know,” you admit. “I do.”

“And you look at him differently than you look at anyone else,” he says.

“Like he’s an idiot?” you ask and Dustin chuckles.

“No, I think we all look at him that way.”

You sigh and pick your head up from Dustin’s shoulder. You pat his arm and give him a grateful smile.

“Dustin Henderson, you are the best. And if I were going to go to the prom with anybody at all, it would be you.”

“Well, when I go to my senior prom, I hope I go with someone half as awesome as you.”

That makes the tears spill over and you hastily wipe them off your cheeks.

“God, I love you.” You throw your arms around his neck and give him the tightest hug you’ve given anyone in a while. He chuckles as he hugs you back.

“Who doesn’t?”

The night of prom comes, and you stand in your kitchen, alone in the house and in your comfiest sweats, making cookie dough. Screw warnings of not eating raw eggs, you were making this dough to eat, not cook. The last few days at school you went back to eat lunch with the guys but used a fake sore throat as an excuse for staying quiet and distant. You really only needed to fool Eddie though, since the other guys knew what was really going on with you.

You take the bowl of cookie dough into the living room and set it down as you flip through the VHS tapes you’d rented earlier in the day. Steve had known about you not going to prom because, of course he did, Dustin tells him everything. You assured him it wasn’t a big deal, just wanting to get out with your movies.

Settling on The Outsiders because you could stare at Rob Lowe all day, you pop the tape in and settle on the couch with your favorite blankets and your bowl of cookie dough. You can only eat about a quarter of the dough before your stomach has had enough. It sits on the table in front of you as you watch the rest of the movie. It’s not even eleven by the time the movie’s over but you don’t feel up to sitting through another one. You take the bowl of cookie dough back into the kitchen and stick it in the refrigerator. Thoughts of what’s happening at the prom have been trying to jam their way into your brain all night, but without the movie to distract you, those thoughts finally break in. Is there a slow song playing right now? Are Eddie’s hands on her hips or is one wrapped around her back while the other holds her hand? Is he having a good time? Are they playing any music that he likes? What did he end up wearing? You know you’ll end up seeing pictures but you’re not looking forward to seeing how pristine Chrissy is all dolled up when she’s naturally so beautiful on her own. Right now, you can imagine she’s wearing a garbage bag and her hair is all rolled up in curlers and her makeup looks like a clown’s. But once you see pictures, that illusion you’ve clung to will burst like a bubble in your heart.

You press the heels of your palms to your eyes to try and stop the impending tears from falling. A few deep breaths and you get it under control. This heartbreak shit sucks.

Before heading up to your room, you grab a water bottle from the fridge and your blanket off the couch. On your nightstand is a small radio and you click it on so you won’t be alone in silence with just your thoughts for company. The sheets feel cold and crisp as you slide into them. Putting your blanket back on top of you, you curl up on your side and nuzzle your face into your pillow. The light’s still on in your room, but you didn’t feel like getting up to turn it off.

The dial on your radio must’ve gotten knocked at some point - which happened often as you fumbled with things on your nightstand constantly - because smooth jazz starts playing and you huff a laugh into your pillow. You weren’t moving to fix that, either. When your parents come home, if you’ve already fallen asleep, your mom will turn both the radio and light off for you.

But the jazz is actually more soothing the longer it plays. It calms your frayed nerves and helps you start to doze off, body finally giving in to the exhaustion you’ve been feeling from all the stress lately.

In your half-asleep state, you hear your parents come home. They’re not exactly quiet walking around downstairs, but they also probably didn’t expect you to be sleeping this early. The thudding of your mom’s heels coming up the stairs echoes in the quiet hallway, drifting into you even over the radio. The footsteps keep coming towards your room and you’re looking forward to the sweet darkness you’ve craved when your mom gets to your room. But the lights don’t turn off. Instead, the bed dips next to you and you feel someone lay down beside you.

She means well, you know, because she knew that you were bummed to miss prom, even if she didn’t know why. But the last thing you wanted right now was to have her try and talk to you about how you’re feeling. You know you’ll lose it and end up crying yet again. She stays quiet beside you though and you’re thankful for it.

“I know you’re not asleep.”

The deep voice startles you and your eyes snap open. Eddie’s laying down on his side, facing you, head propped up on his arm. He’s smiling at you. It’s the first thing you notice before your eyes travel down, taking in the suit he’s wearing. Partially a suit, anyway. He’s wearing nice black slacks, which you didn’t even know he owned, with a maroon button up shirt. No jacket, but you’re not sure if he had one on earlier or not. He’s still your Eddie though, because he has his pick necklace on and his many rings adorning his fingers.

“Look at you.” Your voice sounds a bit froggy between almost being asleep and all the crying you’ve done. “Not a stitch of denim in sight.”

Eddie chuckles. It sounds so nice. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask.

“Came by to see my best girl,” he says. Maybe he still says it out of habit, but you’re pretty sure you’ll be losing that title shortly.

“But prom,” you say, whinier than you intended to.

“It’s over,” he says.

You frown and crane your neck to see the clock on your dresser. The neon green tells you that it’s just after one in the morning. You must’ve dozed longer than you thought.

“How was it?” you ask, bracing yourself for the answer.

“Pretty much how I expected it to be.”

“Oh yeah?” The fake smile on your face is starting to feel second nature, and you hate it. “Everything you’d hoped?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. He shakes his head and twirls the ring on one of his middle fingers with his thumb. “I was right the first time. Shitty music. Horrible punch - which Principal Higgins was guarding like he was trying to keep the Huns from invading China. People at our school can’t dance for shit, myself included. And to top it all off, my favorite person wasn’t there.”

Your brow scrunches together and you sit up in bed.

“She stood you up?”

“What?” Eddie asks. When he realizes what you mean, he closes his eyes and smiles. “No, you dork. I meant you. You weren’t there.”

“Me?” you ask. The skepticism in your voice cuts right to Eddie’s heart. He frowns and scoots forward on the bed so he can rest his hand on your hip.

“Yes, you. You’re doubting that you’re my favorite person?”

“Well, kind of,” you say quietly.

“Why?” he asks, and his frown makes your heart plummet into your stomach.

“It’s just, you were so excited to go with Chrissy.”

“I was,” he admits. “But just because I had a crush on a girl doesn’t mean that you’re not still my number one.”

Had. The one word sticks in your mind and you know there are other things you should say, better things, but the question is burning your tongue so it has to come out.

“Had a crush?” you ask.

Eddie nods and rubs his thumb over your hip bone.

“Turns out a lot of crushes can go away quickly if you actually spend time with the person.”

“Did she say something? Do something?” you ask.

“No,” he says simply. “She’s great. There was just nothing to talk about after the first twenty minutes or so. She knows nothing about my interests, and I know nothing about hers.”

“Just didn’t click?” you ask.

“Yeah, exactly,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, mouth pursed in thought. “This is a horrible analogy, but it’s what came to mind. It’s like when a present is sitting there in front of you, and it’s wrapped beautifully. Ribbons and bows and all that jazz. You just stare at it and want it, imagining what kind of fun thing could be inside. Then, you finally get it, you can hold it in your hands. You open it and it’s a new shirt. It’s nice, but not what you were expecting. You don’t dislike the shirt, it’s just not the present you wanted.”

“Look at you with the metaphors,” you say with a smirk. “Senior English three times and you’re a full-on scholar now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and playfully squeezes the skin at your hip.

“I was being serious,” he says.

“I know. And I get it. You kissed a frog who didn’t turn into a princess.”

“And you thought I had an odd way of putting it,” Eddie says with a laugh. “But I didn’t even kiss her before I knew there was nothing there. Once the excitement wore off it was pretty boring, actually.”

“I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted,” you tell him honestly.

“I’ve always known the prom itself would suck. Just thought it might be fun with the right date. And it might’ve been, but I didn’t have that.” He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes. “I should’ve brought you.”

The tears are coming but you force them to hold their position. It’s hard not to yell at him that that’s what you’ve wanted all along. But there’s no point. Any begging or pleading before the prom wouldn’t have gotten him to agree to take you. So, instead of living in the ‘if you realized this sooner I could have gotten to go to my prom’, you let it go by and just appreciate the fact that he wishes he had gone with you instead of Chrissy.

“But I’ve had an idea,” Eddie says as he pushes himself off your bed.

“And what’s that?”

“Well,” he says as he walks over to your closet. “First things first, I’ve got to see what we’re working with here.”

“Why?” You scoot down to the foot of the bed to see what he’s doing more clearly. He’s going through your clothes, inspecting every piece, and deeming them unfit for whatever scheme he’s cooked up in his brain.

“You’ll see. Wait. Are you kidding me?” He reaches into the back of your closet and pulls out the gold dress that you had bought for prom. “You told me you didn’t get a dress!”

“How do you know I haven’t had that dress for a while?” But your blush won’t let you get away with the lie.

“Well for starters, the tag is still on it.” He brandishes it to you and you huff.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I had a dress. But I didn’t want to go, and I didn’t think you’d end up riling through my closet anyway.”

“Put it on,” he says, tossing its hanger into your lap.

“I’m sorry, what?” The dress tries to slide from your lap to the floor, so you pull it up and lay it down on the bed next to you.”

“Put it on,” he says slower this time, as if that should clear up everything.

“Why?”

“Because I want to dance with you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I’d dance with you in your sweats, but I thought you might want to get all dolled up like me.” He smirks and runs his hands down the buttons of his maroon shirt.

“You want to dance with me?” Maybe you’re still asleep and this is all a dream.

“Yeah.” Again, he says it as if it’s something you do every day. His casual tone is making you think you’re the one who’s not making sense.

“Okay,” you say as you stand. “I guess I’ll go change.”

“This is your room,” Eddie says, heading to the door. “Change here, I’ll wait out here.” He walks into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him.

You slip the sweatpants down your legs and tug the sweatshirt off over your head. The single strapless bra you own is at the bottom of the drawer and you have to dig your way down to find it. The gold dress has a halter neckline so there’s no way you could wear a regular bra underneath. You squeeze the bra on, and even change your panties from blue ones with butterflies on it, to one of the few lace ones you own.

The dress unzips easily and glides down your body as you get situated. You can’t zip it yourself, but Eddie can do that for you. Most of the makeup you own is in the bathroom, but you can make do with the little bit sitting over on your dresser. Looking in the mirror, you do a soft layer of makeup and then inspect your hair. It strikes you as funny when you see yourself in a golden dress with makeup on, but total bedhead up on top. You yank the scrunchie out of your hair and shake your head to toss your hair around. It looks better but not great. Your eyes land on a silver hair clip dotted with pearls and you reach up to tuck some of your hair back and secure it with the pin. There. The look is done.

When you open your bedroom door you expect Eddie to be waiting there but you don’t see him. You stick your head into the hall and look both ways but see no metal head.

“Eddie?” you call.

“Coming!”

He jogs out of your dad’s office a few doors down, carrying a few sheets of paper. Eddie comes to a halt as he takes in your appearance. Heat blooms in your face as you watch Eddie scan every last detail of this ensemble.

“You look gorgeous,” he says. It’s enough to make you pass out, but you somehow stay standing firm.

“Thank you,” you say. “You look very handsome. Did I tell you that when you first got here?”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “Just a remark about me not wearing any denim.”

“Which is truly a miracle. But you do look handsome. Very handsome.”

He smiles and takes steps towards you, paper still in his hands.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“I’m not very good at origami, but I did my best to turn this sheet of paper into a corsage.”

Your heart leaps at his words and it’s another battle of wills with your tears when Eddie slips his improvised flower on your wrist. Some tears win the battle, and they trail down your face. Luckily, you were smart enough to apply waterproof makeup.

“Eddie, this is…” you trail off, not having the words to express how you’re feeling.

“You wanted prom, so I’m giving you prom.” He takes both of your hands in his and guides you back into your bedroom. He closes the door behind him with his foot, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Can you zip me up?” you ask. He nods and you turn around. His hands against your back sends a shiver up your spine and goosebumps break out over your arms. You hear him chuckle and he trails the tips of his fingers over your shoulders as you turn back around.

“What’s with the smooth jazz?” Eddie can’t help but laugh at the saxophone solo coming in over the speakers.

“I hit the dial again.”

“Well, let’s fix that.” He bends down and turns the dial to find a good station. The static goes in and out, some songs coming through in pieces, or sounding like they’re underwater. It finally lands on a clear station and Eddie grins in triumph. “Perfect. Love Comes Walking In.”

“You know I love Van Halen.”

Eddie stands up straight and takes the few steps over to you. He bows in classic dramatic Eddie fashion, and he comes back up with a frown on his face.

“You’re not wearing heels. Or shoes at all.”

“Eddie, I would’ve kicked them off the moment I got there anyway,” you tell him with a laugh. “Barefoot is fine.”

“Just checking. Want this to be an authentic impromptu prom for you.”

You giggle and Eddie reaches his hand out to you. You take it and he instantly pulls you in and holds you against his body. It would be a miracle if he couldn’t feel or hear your heart beating so fast it’s like someone is dribbling a basketball beneath your ribs. His right hand takes your left and he twines your fingers together. His other hand snakes around your waist until it settles warmly on your back. You place your other hand on his shoulder and smile up at him.

“This is already better than actual prom,” he says. “Good music. Perfect date.”

Red rises to your cheeks and you duck your head shyly.

The pair of you sway to the beat of the song, bodies moving along with the rhythm. Eddie spins you and it makes you let out a giddy peal of laughter. He pulls you back into him and you wrap both arms around his neck. He places his hands firmly on your waist as you start to sway again.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“You brought all the best parts of prom to me. I didn’t have to suffer through the shitty parts. I’ve got my dress, my music, my favorite person. It’s perfect, Eddie.”

“I’ll dance like this with you anytime,” he says. “All you have to do is ask.”

The way he’s looking at you stirs some butterflies up that have been dormant until this point. He’s never looked at you this way and you’re not sure what it is. You know every Eddie facial expression and what they mean, but this one is new. His face is soft, and his eyes are wide, as usual. The brown irises are twinkling and there’s the barest smile on the left side of his mouth.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask.

“You,” he says. No further explanation, which leads your mind to grasping for answers as usual.

“What about me?”

“Just…you.”

“Okay, I take back what I said about being a scholar now. You’ve lost the ability to words,” you say and wrinkle up your nose playfully at him. He catches you by surprise, though, when he leans forward and presses a kiss to the very tip of your nose.

The blush you had before was nothing to the one now gracing your features. Eddie chuckles when he sees it and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours.

“Do you want to have another prom tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s that entail? Dancing with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good music?”

“Of course.”

“Can I wear comfy clothes?”

“I’ll be wearing mine.”

“Hmm,” you hum, pretending to consider it. “Can we get food too?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say with a smirk.

“Is that a yes?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I’d have this kind of prom with you every single day.”

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction

4K notes · View notes

strongheartneteyam · 8 months

Text

𖧷 Headcanons

Neteyam bringing you breakfast in bed ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

(human AU)

Pairing: human!neteyam x female!reader

cw: wholesome fluff, neteyam treating reader so damn right, use of "baby" and "princess", kissing, oral sex (female receiving), brief dirty talk

This was an idea from this cute anon 💕 I hope you enjoy, angel 💌

Not proofread. Sorry but without my glasses I can't do much reading :’(

♡ Neteyam is the kind of boyfriend who is always busy with the many activities he likes to do as he's a very active person (such as his studies, exercising, work, archery classes) + how he's incredibly often taking care of Tuk or just looking over Lo'ak and making sure he doesn't get into too much trouble at school (and also tutoring him because our boy Lo doesn't have big brains, you know?)

♡ Despite his busy schedule, he always makes an effort and ends up finding enough time to be with you and to pamper you with cute dates, gifts such as stuffies and your favorite foods and to have you sleep over at his home (he's got his own apartment now as he's in his early, almost mid twenties)

♡ Last night you two went out to eat pasta in one of your favorite restaurants, one that serves many kinds of pasta, from more traditional ones to ones with seafood on them. You two ate so much, your tummies got big and you both slept like babies once you got to his small but cozy apartment.

♡ You wake up with a tender kiss on your forehead and when you open your eyes, you see Neteyam standing in all his 6’1 glory, smiling and holding a huge tray in his big hands, full of delicious food. You can smell fresh made black coffee - he knows it is your favorite. “Morning, sleepyhead. I'd ask if you're hungry but you always are so…” He steals a joyful laughter from you with this sentence

♡ When you sit down and Neteyam sits next to you, your eyes see how many different foods he brought you. Besides coffee, there's froot loops with milk on a pink bowl (he keeps dishes and spoons etc just for you at his home <3), a croissant, another pink bowl with strawberries, kiwi and banana cut in pieces. There's also slices of cheese and some fried bacon. You smile widely “Baby, you didn't have to spoil me like this!” Neteyam answers “Of course I have to. You're my little princess and I love you.” He gives you a sweet kiss on the lips “I love you more. You're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

♡ Neteyam happily watches you eat and you two talk about trivial stuff and act like a cute couple in love. When you're finished eating all that food, you hear him say: “Now open these legs ‘cause it's my time to eat” You almost choke on the coffee you're drinking. Neteyam takes the tray away and puts it on the nightstand.

♡ You see Neteyam sneaking between your legs, kissing your inner thighs and looking up at you with pervy eyes. His kisses are so good and he looks so fucking sexy that you just can't say “no”.

♡ Neteyam starts taking your panties off while kissing your belly slowly (you slept in only panties and an old cotton t-shirt of his) and when your pussy is exposed to him, he helps you lay down on your back and opens your legs for him. Neteyam laps at your already wet folds with his warm tongue, tasting you. “God, how do you taste so good, baby? I'm addicted to eating you out.” He starts sucking your clit, making you moan in pleasure. You close your eyes and just enjoy the incredibly skilled oral Neteyam is giving you until you're crying in ecstasy and your legs are shaking.

𓂃

Taglist:

@criticallybella

@yeosxxx

771 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 days

Text

Stolen Goods 5

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

Ft. Lloyd Hansen, petite!pregnant reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

“One triple fudge with oreo,” Lloyd bursts into the room as you lay on your side, dazed and distraught. You blink as he walks sideways into your view. “Hey, baby batter, you asleep?”

You sniff but don’t answer. You just rub your stomach. You’re starving. You sit up with a groan as you eye the covered tray in his hand.

“Got a few other things,” he raises a bag in his other, “so, if you want your dessert, you’re gonna have to earn it.”

“Huh? Earn—But you said--”

“You give, I give, it evens out in the end,” he sets the tray and bag on the dresser. “So you can have that hunk of sugared cheese but only--” he pauses and reaches into the bag, rustling it, “if you’re wearing this!”

He pulls out a lacy white teddy with a split front. The sort that when you put it on won’t hide much, especially not your stomach. Your eyes round and you sputter.

“What?”

“Yeah, babes, come on. I got you bottoms, don’t worry.”

He turns back and fishes out a lacy thong. “See?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious. Dead horny,” he smirks and tosses them on the bed. “Now you can put them on and I’ll serve you cake on the tip of my dick if that’s what you want. Or you can see if you get through me. Your choice. I don’t mind either.”

You look at him. You haven’t forgotten how strong he is. Look what he did at the grocery store. How easily he took over. Now you’re all alone with no one to cry out to for help. You should have done that when you had the chance.

You pout and reach for the teddy. You hook your finger in the string of the thong and stand. Your moping turns to a grimace.

“You’re a pervert.”

“Sure am, sugar tits,” he eyes your dress as he licks his lips. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get all up in the baby goo.”

“Ew,” you turn and shudder.

You go into the open bathroom and slam the door. At least there’s that sliver of privacy even if it’s redundant. This damn lingerie won’t hide anything.

You take your time. You pee then wash your hands before you untangle the lingerie. You undress and mutter as you pull on the thin fabric. Your nipples are pert beneath the sheer cups and your stomach peeks out between the split tails. The thong rides up uncomfortably.

You turn and give a start as you find yourself gaping back from the full-body mirror on the back of the door. You frown. You don’t look bad but you’re still adjusting to all the changes. Your hips, your tits, your tummy...

You grab the hand and brace yourself. A knock comes from the other side, “you need help in there, shortcake?” Lloyd calls through.

You answer him as you swing open the door. A swell of irritation creeps up your spine. You lift your chin and shove his stomach. He hums as he devours you in a glance.

“There. Now give me the cake.”

“I don’t hear a please or thank you,” he scoffs.

“I want the cake,” you growl. “Now.”

You push past him and he lets you past. You go to the dress and uncurl the edges of the tin tray. You peel off the lid and the dusting of oreo crumbs makes your mouth water and your stomach roar. You lick your lips.

“Allow me,” he approaches as he pulls a knife from inside his jacket and unfolds it, “can’t have you handle sharp objects.” You eye the blade and he points it at you, “Don’t think about it.”

You back away and he slices into the cake.

“Bigger,” you demand as he cuts it too small.

“Damn,” he cuts another piece, “that good? Or you want the whole thing?”

“May as well,” you grumble.

He reaches into the bag and takes out a napkin. He wipes the blade off and folds it away. He plucks out a package of paper plates and splits the plastic. He slides one out then finds the box of disposable cutlery. He scoops out the hunk of cake and serves it up with a splat.

“Here you are,” he faces you. “I want you to eat with your legs open.”

You shiver. He’s so gross. You’re so hungry you don’t care. You take the plate and the fork from him and retreat. You sit on the foot of the bed and stop before you can stab into the cake.

“The crust... isn’t oreo.”

“Hmm?” He crosses his arms and tilts his head. You push your knees together.

“It’s graham cracker,” you sneer at him. “I said oreo crust!”

“Ah come on, shortcake, how could I know? Cake is cake, right?”

“No, I want chocolate!”

“There’s chocolate--”

You snarl and drop the plate on the floor. “You said you would get me what I wanted.”

“Okay, well, you don’t have to be a child about it--”

“I don’t-- you abducted me! You put me in a trunk,” you kick your feet as your eyes water. “I’m pregnant and all you’ve done is mistreated me.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration--”

You cover your face as you heave, “you’re mean!”

“No, I got you cake. You’re just being picky.”

“I’m scared and emotional and hormonal,” you lift your head and growl at him. “And I’m hungry!”

You stand and step around the cake. You march towards him and he winces. You jab him in the ribs.

“I need food for my baby and if I don’t get an oreo crust, I’m going to—I'm going to--” your blink as another flow of tear swells, “I’m going to break down!”

Your tears stream out and you try to mop them away. He looks startled as he stares down at you. Then his eyes fall down to your chest and his brows rise.

“You know what, baby, I’ll get you the right cake,” he grins. “And I’ll lick all the crumbs off your tits for you.”

You snivel and wipe your nose, “why are you so gross?”

“Wish I could say but all the bloods no longer in my brain,” he shrugs and gives a wink. “Now, let me go find you that damn oreo crust.”

#stolen goods #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #drabble #au #the gray man

181 notes · View notes

writingchalamet · 2 months

Text

Angels Like You II

Angels Like You Chapter I

A.N: Hope you enjoyed part 1, things will be heating up from here and we will be getting a lot more Y/n and Bucky interaction!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, violence, blood, mentions of S/A, mentions of graphic physical abuse, fluff, y/n has a child, Bucky being protective

Chapter II

Your day had begun like any other, waking to the sound of Forrest stirring on your baby monitor. You walk into his bedroom finding him sitting in his cot a beautiful smile instantly gracing his face as you enter the room, rambling the word 'mama' or an iteration of the sort over and over, you were both all smiles all morning as you most days, getting Forrest ready for day care was perhaps your least favourite part of the day, he still cried when you dropped him off and it broke your heart in two everyday. After Forrest was dropped off at day care, you start your day at work, keeping the door to the Bakery locked until your other baker joins you in an hour, you make a start on your breads taking your premade doughs out the fridge, giving them a quick kneed before placing them in their baking trays. Then onto pastries and cakes you can whip up from scratch, deciding on lemon and blueberry cupcakes with cream-cheese frosting as your 'chefs choice' for the week.

You hear a tap on the glass door and go through kitchen into the main shop to kind your employee Kay standing at the door smiling, clutching a bunch of flowers in her arms. You unlocked the door opening enough to let her in before securing the lock again, "Hey Kay, how are you?" you embrace her in a side hug "I'm good thanks, I got these flowers for the counter, I saw them yesterday and they reminded me of you, so you know" the thought brought a smile to your face in an instant. "Oh thank you, that's so cute" You find a jug to put them in, arranging the carnations on the counter next to the till. Yourself and Kay continue baking and prepping for the day ahead, finishing off some icing and glazing before placing the first batches into the display counter and finishing setting up.

The morning flew by, your regulars came in for their morning coffee and pastries, the couple of old ladies who come by once a week to pick up a loaf of bread and some cakes stopped by and had a chat, and a few college students stopped in, you were happy with how business was going, until you saw a certain head of curls across the street, dark eyes looking your way, his figure loomed over you like a dark omen, you just knew something terrible was about to happen, you could tell by the way he sat there chain smoking and swigging from his coffee cup, that was most likely not coffee, he wore a smug smile across his face while he continued to stare at you.

"Okay Boss, I'm gonna run down the road and grab some lunch, you want anything?" You tore your gaze away from the menacing stare of your ex to meet Kay's. "Uh, no I'm good thanks" she nodded and headed out the door, down the street and out of sight. You were alone. Shit. You look up again and see that Matt had moved from his spot on the wall across your shop, and was moving hastily towards you. You clamber over the counter and try to make it to the door before him, but you're too late. The sweet ding off the bell above the door ringing leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. "Get out Matt, you can't be here" you try to be firm but your voice only comes out broken.

"Or what, you gonna call the cops? You know they won't do anything" He stalks towards you until your backed up against your counter, the hard wood digging into your back. "Matt seriously, leave me alone, please" you were willing yourself not to cry but couldn't help the few stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. Matt picked up the jug of flowers smashing them down against the counter with force causing the glass to shatter, a few shards cutting your arm in the process. "Don't you fucking cry or I'll give you something to cry about" His hands wrapped around your neck cutting off your supply of oxygen while he threw you against the window, keeping you pinned there by your neck. You sputtered out a choke as tears slipped down your face, only making him grip you impossibly tighter, "You wanna fucking cry, you ran away while you were pregnant with my child, I have a right to see them, huh, where is the little brat" He shook your neck bashing your head against the glass. You only hoped he would tire himself out, he usually didn't last long when he'd had a drink anyway.

Over all the commotion you didn't hear the bell of the door opening, and you didn't see Bucky coming to stand behind Matt but thank the lord he did. "You're gonna wanna let the lady go" As soon as you heard his voice your senses ignited, your eyes opened and the tears stopped flowing immediately. Matt loosened his grip but refused to let go. "yeah or what" he scoffed before throwing his head over his shoulder catching a glimpse of your rescuer. You could have sworn you saw him recoil into himself, something you had never once seen. However his fear was short lived and soon replaced by anger once more. "Who's this guy huh? what you just opened your legs for the first guy you said hi to here, you whor-" the second his grip tightened around your neck once more it was enough to send Bucky into overdrive.

He reached forwards wrapping his hand around Matts wrist bending it backwards until you were sure you heard a snap, while Matt screamed Bucky secured an arm around you, giving you the once over, not stopping until you gave him a nod. "Oh I'm gonna fucking kill you, you stupid bitch" in a poor attempt to throw a punch Matt practically threw himself at Bucky, who didn't seem the slightest bit phased, caught Matt by his throat with his vibranium arm, squeezing until he was red in the face. Matt coughed attempting to pull back, Bucky only pulled him closer, clenching his fist all that bit harder. He pulled him close enough that his mouth reached Matts ear. "If you come near her again, I'll fucking finish the job" with those words he pushed Matt away from the two of them, Matt scrambling away and out the door nearly falling to the floor in the process. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding, feeling the weight of the world fall off your shoulders for just a moment.

Hot tears spill down your cheeks again in slow steady streams, burning the skin in their wake. "Thank you" you breathed out, your shaking hands reaching up to wipe your face, it's then your realise the blood dripping from a glass made gash on your arm, dripping down your fingers and onto the floor. "Hey, let me take a look at that, make sure you don't need stitches" you pull your arm away from him recoiling into yourself, "no it's fine, you've done enough, you can go, thank you Bucky" You stare at the floor the entire time watching as small droplets of blood begin to litter the tiles. "I'm not leaving in case he comes back, in fact I'm gonna patch you up and we're gonna get Forrest and go home, okay, sound good?" His hand raised to your cheek gaining your attention from your disoriented state, he wipes away the tears as they form under your eyes, brushing them away from your skin, you close your eyes for a moment allowing the feeling to sooth you.

"Alright lets get you cleaned up"

After the incident at the bakery Sam, Bucky and Sarah had been on high alert, Sam brought up the fact that they could have Torres flown in to be your own personal bodyguard, the thought daunting, that you might actually need one. Then Sarah brough up the fact that there are two more than capable 'bodyguards' here if they want to help. And that's how you ended up here, with Bucky living in your spare room for the past two nights, seemingly watching your every move afraid you'll shatter like glass.

What shocked you the most was how quickly Forrest had taken to Bucky, usually he was shy around people for weeks, hell he’s been going to nursery for a year and still won’t let some of the day care assistants hold or play with him. In a way you were glad he was so reserved, made you think that he would never just run off with a stranger, or your psycho ex. But with Bucky he was different, he seemed to open up pretty much straight away, showing him his favourite toys, wanting to sit next to him on the sofa, wherever you looked you would see Forrest’s little hand reaching up for Buck’s trying to show him something, the sight bringing a dull ache to your chest. Maybe it was the lack of a male presence in his life that made him take to Bucky so well, but you were grateful either way.

You were settling down for the evening after feeding Forrest his dinner, the three of you snuggled up on the couch watching a Disney movie before you put Forrest down for bed. You couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling filling your body as you watched Forrest nuzzle into Bucky’s side, his head leaning on his chest. You found your head lulling to the side more often than watching the film, admiring the pair of them, Forrest occasionally pointing to the screen and muttering some gibberish to Bucky excitedly. Towards the end of the film, Forrest had fallen asleep, cuddled into Buck’s side. “I better get him up to bed” you sighed in content beginning to sit up from your comfy seated position. “I can take him up if you want” Bucky spoke in a hushed tone, already slipping his arms around the boy and standing from the sofa. “Why don’t we go up together?" You smiled, getting up from the sofa and following Bucky up the stairs into your sons’ room, you admired the way Bucky gently placed him down on the changing table as if he had done it a thousand times, and stood aside letting you get the baby changed ready for bed. Once he had a fresh nappy and pyjamas on, Bucky picked him up once more, leaning over the side of the cot and smoothly placed Forrest down into his bed, without him stirring once. You both stood there and smiled over the sleeping baby for a moment before retreating back downstairs.

You opened a bottle of wine grabbing two glasses, heading back into the living room finding Bucky back in his original spot on the sofa once more. “I never really got the chance to thank you for the other day, or explain…” You avoided eye contact as you sat down, fiddling with the stem of your wine glass in an attempt to distract yourself. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, I’m just glad I was able to help is all” Bucky responds coyly, wrapping a hand around yours in an attempt to stop your nervous fidgeting around the glass. “Sarah spoke to me… She said that she told you guys about Matt… That you seemed pretty upset” you plucked up the courage to look in his eyes, as you did, he looked away, shaking his head. Almost embarrassed. “I uh… I don’t know what to tell you…” There was a pause after he spoke, neither of you knowing what to say. “Why do you care so much, you don’t know me?”

Bucky scoffed, seeming taken aback by your comment, as if someone caring about your well being was a problem. “Why wouldn’t I care, especially after hearing the shit he put you through, that would be enough to make any sane person mad, no?” His response seemed valid, even if you didn’t want to admit it, if it had been you that had found Sarah pregnant and sleeping in her car, hearing her situation you would have been just as furious. You understood where he was coming from. “I guess…” Your sentence trailed off and you stared into your empty wine glass. Bucky took the hint and opened the bottle of wine, filling your glass more than you normally would have, you giggled side eyeing him, tilting the glass up to your eyeline. “You trying to get me drunk Barnes, you know there’s a sleeping toddler upstairs right” you joked, clinking your glass with his, just as full. He laughed along shaking his head.

After sinking one or two bottles of wine, you felt yourself growing more confident. The wine raising a sweet pink blush to your cheeks which Bucky found undeniably cute, he found himself drawing closer to you and you let him, there was no room between you, his arm encased the back of the sofa around your shoulders, your head occasionally falling back to rest on the limb, your thigh hunched up resting on his own, as you chatted the night away truly getting to know each other. If Sam were to look in through the window Bucky knows he would have a shit eating grin plastered on his face at the sight of his best friend this close to a girl after so many years. And you couldn’t help but admit, it felt nice to be this close to someone, especially after the only relationship you had ever been in was an abusive one, you thought you would find it hard to trust, but Bucky made you feel at ease the second you were near him.

“So, what’s it like being a superhero?” you enquired eyes wide with wonder. He scoffed again shaking his head, and attribute you would soon grow attached to. “I’m no superhero doll” you shook your head, taking his glass out of his hand and placing it on the coffee table, you place yourself directly in his eyeline, practically sitting in his lap. “Oh common! You fought Thanos’ army, helped bring down that Zemo guy and you just stopped the flag smashers! And to top it off you were sergeant of the Howling Commandos. I’d say that’s pretty superhero-esque to me” you wink at him and couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the look on his face. “Okay stalker, someone’s done their homework” he laughs out, he raised his hands in defence, lowering them to rest on your lower back and his Vibranium hand on your thigh, your hands settled on his shoulders, and you gave them a light squeeze, feeling intrigued by the feeling of the metal under his shirt.

“Of course, I had to, I’m not gonna let some strange man I don’t know stay in the same house as my son, am I?” you tilted your head to the side, eyeing him quizzically. “Of course, not” The flesh hand holding your back began to stroke up your back and you forgot to breathe for a moment. His hand stilled in the centre of your back, laying there flat and steady. You stared into the blues of his eyes, realizing now just how deep they really are. How much history they hold behind them, how many horrors he too has seen. You felt his gaze searching your own, tracing every spec on your face, you saw his eyes linger by your eyebrow where your scar was and regrettably you tore your own pair away from his face. Removing yourself from his lap, standing before him. He sat there; brows furrowed slightly in question as to why you were leaving. “I should get to bed, I have to get back to work tomorrow, but thank you Bucky for a lovely evening, thank you for everything…” You spoke to the floor before turning hurriedly towards the stairs. “Yeah, yeah, no problem… No problem at all…” Bucky spoke shallowly to himself wondering what he had done wrong.

Tag List:

@unaxv @mrsnikstan

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

#fanfiction #fanfic #imagines #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x you #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky angst #sam wilson #tfatws #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

186 notes · View notes

waughymommy · 1 month

Text

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 5

They pulled into a McDonalds and Rebecca opened Brian’s door. He had successfully finished his second juice of the morning. She smiled as she unbuckled him. She unclipped his pacifier and stuffed it into her purse. “I will give you a break since we are out in public,” Rebecca whispered. “But remember, if you have to go potty, you tell mommy.” She grabbed his hand and led him inside. At the counter, Brian started to make his order, but Rebecca stopped him before he could get two words out. She shot him a look that let him know mommy was in charge. “Good morning. He will have a sausage biscuit and an apple juice. I’ll have a bacon, egg and cheese with a large black coffee. Thank you,” Rebecca said confidently, knowing that the cashier was giving the couple strange looks.

Rebecca grabbed their tray and they made their way to a table. Brian started to complain, “Why can’t I have a coffee?”

Without missing a beat, Rebecca answered, “Coffee isn’t for babies.” Disappointed, Brian went to grab his breakfast, but she slapped his hand, “Let mommy do that.” She opened the rapper and began cutting the sandwich into bite size pieces. She opened his juice, but reminded him to be super careful since she left his sippy cup in the car. “Now eat up sweetheart.”

Brian kept his head down, certain that every person in the restaurant was staring at him, but the truth was every went about their own business. The two ate in relative quiet. He finished his juice. “My baby must have liked his food, you finished it so fast. Mommy is almost done.” Brian cringed and his eyes scanned the restaurant, praying that no one could hear her. “Alright sweetie. Before we leave, do you need to go potty?”

Brian was mortified, “NO. Can we just go please?”

“Relax cutie,” Rebecca was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort.

They walked to the car and once again she buckled him in. She pulled his pacifier back out, “Be good for me and suck on your binky. We will be at the store in just a few minutes.”

They arrived at a department store, “Mommy wants to buy some clothes. If baby is on his best behavior, maybe you will get a treat.” As they walked inside, Brian realized that he still had is pacifier in his mouth and quickly shoved it into his pocket. Rebecca pretended to not notice, but it just reinforced that Brian was never going to let himself be little on his own. The two walked inside and found the women’s clothing section. Brian had always been a patient husband and bought whatever her heart desired. He had endured countless shopping trips, but this was different. With every step he took, he could feel the material of his pullup. He felt paranoid that everyone in the store knew his secret. He just stood behind his mommy as she perused the racks. She made sure to take her precious time.

She picked item after item to try on. Brian squirmed knowing that this was going to take awhile. Every minute felt like an eternity. He just stood outside the stall as she tried on different outfits. He was unsettled and bored all at the same time. He just wanted to get out of there. But then he noticed an ache in his bladder. No way in hell was he going to ask her to take him to the bathroom. He would just wait till they got home where he would hopefully be able to slip away and use the bathroom on his own. With every passing moment, his need for the bathroom grew more and more intense. Rebecca opened up the stall to model a new outfit, “What do you think sweetheart?” She immediately recognized the look on his face. “Brian, baby, do you need to go pee-pee. Mommy can take you. All you need to do is tell me.”

“No, Im fine,” Brian responded hoping that she believed him.

“Ok baby. I’ve got a few more things to try on,” as she walked back into the stall. Brian took a deep breath, desperately trying to will away his need to pee. He crossed his legs hoping to relieve some pressure.

“Are you almost done,” Brian asked in a whiney tone.

“Not quite sweetheart, be patient for mommy just a little bit longer,” Rebecca said from behind the stall door.

Brian tried to take his mind off of his predicament. He tried looking through the racks, but his mind kept racing back to the fact that his wife of nearly ten years was turning him into a baby. He had always fantasized about it, but it was always just that: a dream. This was real life and it terrified him. How could he give up control? He needed to be the provider so that his wife didn’t have to be. She had always been so sweet and supportive of him. The least he could do was work hard so she didn’t have to. He could still remember the day he saw her. He was absolutely smitten. He saw her in a coffee shop on his way to work. Her wavy brown hair flowed over her shoulders. Although she sported a hoodie and jeans, he could tell she was curvaceous. Something about her drew him in like a moth to a flame. Brian was never one to openly flirt with women. He was always a bit shy and reserved. But with her, he had to try. He plucked up his courage and walked up to her table, “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Brian and I couldn’t help but notice you. I don’t normally do this, but would you grab coffee with sometime.”

Rebecca looked up at the dapper man standing before her. She flashed him a smile. She could sense the shyness of him which conveyed a genuineness about him. He was tall and fairly fit. Why not, he seems harmless.

“I would love to. How about tomorrow at noon?”, she asked. He was thrilled, over the moon happy. That moment of bliss Brian daydreamed about was soon shattered by a sound that jerked him back. It sounded as if someone was peeing. He was confused, until the warmth spread across his crotch. The daydream had broken his concentration and he was flooding his pullup.

“Ok, I am all done baby boy…Brian are you ok?” Rebecca asked as she exited the stall. She saw the look of total panic on his face and a growing wet patch on his pants. His pullup couldn’t handle it and pee dribbled down his legs. Brian burst into tears. In that moment all he wanted was mommy. Rebecca flung into mommy mode. She set aside her clothing and went to comfort her baby boy. “Why didn’t you tell mommy you needed to pee-pee? I guess you aren’t ready for pull ups? Where is your paci baby?” she asked.

Brian could only point to his pocket. She reached into his pocket and then nestled it between his lips. “Come on baby, lets get you home.” Rebecca grabbed his hand and led him out into the parking lot. Every patron in the store just witnessed a grown man with a pacifier and wet pants, be led like an overgrown toddler out of the store. But Brian was too upset to notice. They reached the car. “Brian before you get in, we need to take those pants off,” Rebecca said.

Brian fearfully scanned the parking lot to see if other people were watching, “But but people might see me.”

“Brian I can’t put you in the car with soaking wet pants,” she said forcefully. She unbuttoned his pants and starting pulling his pants down to his ankles. “I need you to step out baby. Mommy packed another pullup, but she didn’t bring any pants.” She ripped open the sides of the pullup, leaving his bare bottom exposed. He closed his eyes and just prayed no one could see him. He felt the cold touch of baby wipes around his crotch. “Ok baby step into this pullup. There, nice and dry. Hop in the car for me sweetheart.” She leaned in and buckled him up. She then kissed the top of his head, “Everything is ok sweetheart. You were so brave while mommy changed you. I promise, mommy will never get upset at you for having accidents. Lets get you home.”

199 notes · View notes

fairyysoup · 4 months

Text

matters of taste

part one (repost)

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: Not all trainees are great on the job. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson in a bakery, however? Absolutely unmatched.

content warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI) smut, threesome - f/m/m, semi-public sex, workplace sex, car sex, handjobs, oral (f+m receiving), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, spitroast, fluids play, dumbification, praise, degradation, implied masochism, mention of housewife kink, steve harrington has a big dick, enemies to lovers-ish but they're all crazy about each other let's be real\

a/n: this is my second time trying to repost this!! let's not talk about how ugly it looks ok i think the header is implying that reader is a sentient pie and honestly... yeah

It’s… you know what. It’s whatever. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine, everything’s fine.

You pause midway through frosting some cinnamon rolls to watch one of the newbies wheeling a cart of mislabelled muffins past your decorating table. You strategically keep your voice void of inflection as you say, “Price stickers, Harrington.”

“FUCK!”

You watch Steve dramatically jostle the cart back around to wheel it toward the rack that contains the multitudes of different flavor and price stickers used in the bakery, swearing like a sailor the whole time. He collides with another cart, and slams it directly into your other trainee, Eddie Munson.

“Shitshitshitshit shit-” Eddie curses and stumbles into a rolling rack of donuts. He grabs the rack before it can topple over, and succeeds in catching four trays of donuts when they fall out of their slots and into his arms.

You roll your eyes at the spectacle the two of them create, which is quickly becoming the norm, and go back to stroking globs of cream cheese frosting across the cinnamon rolls in front of you.

It’s not like they’re the world’s worst trainees or anything. It’s not like they’re completely incompetent, or that they purposefully goes out of their way to make your job unnecessarily difficult or anything. It’s not like, together, they create the most chaotic and hazardous environment possible.

No, sir. Nothing to see here. No problems to be had.

“‘You didn’t put the price stickers on, Steve-’” you hear Steve mocking you in a purposefully insulting falsetto, and give him a side-eye that you know he can’t see. “Mehmehmeh- ‘You didn’t put the bagels in properly. You didn’t frost the bundt cakes just right.’”

“‘You didn’t circumcise the bread bags,’” Eddie adds as he shoves the trays of smushed donuts back onto the rack and grabs a rag to wipe icing from his apron.

“Fucking what?” You turn to look at them fully, holding your frosting covered hands out in front of you.

“I don’t know!” Steve whirls around to sneer at you. His bubblegum pink uniform shirt is just about the same color as his face, rosy and flushed with the heat from the ovens and probably his climbing heart rate. “Why’s everything gotta be packaged differently? It’s just bread!”

“I don’t make the rules! Don’t argue with me and just do it!” That’s another thing. Steve’s just so argumentative, about everything. How you package things, how you wash the dishes, how you clean the floors at the end of the day. Meanwhile, Eddie won’t argue with you per-se, but the day he does something correctly will be the day pigs fly. It’s the most annoying fucking thing you’ve had to deal with at this job, and you’re stuck training them.

It’s not a particularly hard job. You’re just clerks at Mimi’s Bakery, nothing is out of the realm of doability- it’s more of a stamina sport. You’re all closers, so that means a lot of packaging and a lot of cleaning, interspersed with helping some late afternoon and evening customers, within an eight hour shift. It isn’t very busy anymore, either; summer’s over, and you still have about a month until the holiday rushes start. It shouldn’t be too terribly difficult for them, but they’ve both been here for two weeks and still act like they were born yesterday.

Steve spends an extraordinarily long time putting the price tags on the packages of muffins- and putting them on crooked, anyway, so that the entire pile looks janky and rushed despite his slow pace. Eddie’s too busy wiping chocolate icing from his arms to notice Steve’s haphazard labeling.

Your eyes trail the wet rag that Eddie drags across his skin, leaving behind only the ink from his tattoos for you to scrutinize. During the lull, the bakery’s PA system comically offsets the tension in the room with a generic old jazz standard. Your boss, Mimi Callaghan, has an enthusiasm for novelties from her youth- hence the confectionary shop-style pink pinstriped uniform dress you wear, and your clashing forest green apron just oozing with sex appeal. Steve looks like a knockoff Ken doll in his similar blouse and khakis, but he confessed to you on his first day that he used to work at the Scoops Ahoy in the old Hawkins Mall, so you assume he isn’t too phased by it. You’re not about to tell him that he makes it work. Eddie, on the other hand, looks like someone picked him up at the Local Smokes down the street and thrust him into the uniform against his will, like he’s not really supposed to be here. You hate that you find the weird juxtaposition of his tattoos to the pink and green uniform kind of hot.

“Don’t forget to face the shelves when you put them out,” you tell Steve as he pushes the cart past you again.

Steve’s ears glow bright red. “I’ll put out something-”

“Suck my fucking nuts, Harrington, you wanna do the job right or not?”

Eddie cackles loudly as Steve turns around, but instead of glaring at you he just looks mildly amused, like Eddie’s hysterical laughter rubbed off on him. “Why’re you so mean to me, huh?”

“What?” You splutter, gloved hands flexing in the air and squishing frosting between your fingers. “Why- why’re you so fucking difficult? Put the goddamn muffins out, we don’t have all day-”

“I think she likes you, Harrington.”

You squint at Eddie, still rubbing himself down leisurely with the rag, twisting his rings around his fingers idly even though he didn’t even get any icing on them. He leans against the counter with a smirk on his pretty pink lips like he thinks he’s done something. Like there can’t be another reason for why you’re so easily frustrated by Steve- by either of them, really. Like their lack of decorum or work ethic are completely out of the question, you guess, to his way of thinking.

“Like him?” you scoff, trying to appear nonchalant as you go back to smacking cream cheese frosting across the pans of pastries in front of you. “Puh- lease. He’s infuriating, he doesn't listen to directions. Also, Steve, your customer service voice? It- you know what, it’s obnoxious. We work in a bakery, you don’t have to put the moves on every girl that comes in.”

“Oh, okay. Hear me out- maybe you don’t like my customer service voice because you’re jealous.” Steve hums, rocking back on his heels and looking even more smug than he did a few seconds ago. “I can put the moves on you, too, if you’re feeling left out.”

You don’t dignify that offer with a response. You kind of just want to punch him in the face. “Go put the muffins out and let me listen to the goddamn PA in peace.”

He has the decency to look shocked. “You like this goofy old shit?”

“I love this goofy old shit, which is more than I can say about you.”

“It’s okay, sweet pea,” Eddie hums casually, in as condescending of a voice as he can muster. “You don’t have to pretend like you aren’t into Harrington. I know I am.”

“And you, Munson-” You whirl on him, pointing one frosting covered finger angrily in his direction, at which his eyes go all wide and innocent. “Don’t even get me started. Your fucking hair gets everywhere. I swear I had to excavate an entire gerbil from the garlic bread you made yesterday. Take a fucking weedwacker to that thing, for the love of god. And… and your tattoos are fucking dumb.”

You don’t want to admit that you like the sight of the tattoos, actually. When Mimi had told you that the newbies you’d be training were gonna be “that darling Steve Harrington, and his friend, the Munson boy” you’d been a little bit pleased. There isn’t much to admire in a bakery except cakes, and if having the two of them around the bakery means things just got a little more scenic, then you were happy to have them.

Unfortunately, a pretty face often means an infernal personality. Finding one without the other would probably take an act of god at this point. Times two, you got stuck with the fucking chaos twins.

“Dumb?” Eddie wolf whistles. “That smarts, sweetheart. It really does. You haven’t even seen all of my tattoos yet. I’d love to give you a tour of them, though-”

Your face burns at the thought of Eddie Munson letting you get a first class look at his tattoos. He probably has ones in places even god doesn’t know about, and you glare down at the cinnamon rolls in front of you to hide how flustered you are about it. “Fuck you, Munson.”

“I wish you would.”

“For christ’s sake- Steve. Muffins, now.”

Steve does what he’s told, for a change. It doesn’t give you as much of an ego boost as it usually does- really, you just feel sort of dull as you snap your rubber gloves off and throw them in the trash can to the side. You don’t know why you let them bother you as much as they do, but for some reason the just jerk your chain like nothing else.

The bell over the front door jingles, alerting you to the arrival of a customer. You take a quick peek at the ovens behind you to check the time; it’s nearly 8, and the bakery closes at 10. You fight to not roll your eyes as you grab a pair of gloves in case whoever it is wants something out of the display case.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Your voice is sing-songy enough that you want to smack yourself. A middle aged woman has made a bee-line for the counter, straight past where Steve is bent over a display table, struggling to shift all the old muffin boxes to the top and slide the newer ones underneath them.

You stare at his ass for… probably way longer than necessary, honestly.

The woman points at a singular cake box left on the counter from today’s special orders, and immediately reaches up to take it without any other introduction.

Oh. One of these customers. The ones who come in and grab stuff off the counter without asking for assistance, who will walk back into the kitchen to look at the overstock racks and help themselves to things that haven’t been put out on the floor yet.

A tight smile curls at your lips as you snag the tag on the box and look at the name before she can yank it off the counter from you. “For Linda?”

The woman nods curtly. As you turn the box to face her, your eyes shift back to Steve as he moves around the side of the display table. He stretches his arm out to reach for a stack on a higher shelf, and your eyes linger on the way the short sleeve of his uniform shirt rides up to expose his bicep.

“This is not the cake I ordered.”

“What?” You snap your eyes back to Linda’s pinched face, glaring down at the cake on the counter. It’s a basic sheet cake, with white frosting and a screaming red border, that says ‘Great Job Oscar!’ on it. Not necessarily a masterpiece, but a neat and pretty cake nonetheless.

“I ordered a cake with a winning streak theme. This has nothing on it,” Linda says icily as you snatch up the order slip you had taken off of the box and inspect it.

“A marble quarter sheet with white buttercream and a red border, that says ‘Great Job Oscar!’ in black icing?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… what’s on the cake, ma’am.”

“But there’s no other decoration. Where’s the winning streak theme?”

You blink, and briefly make eye contact with Steve over the woman’s shoulder. He’s all but abandoned his task of stacking muffin boxes, instead watching your face carefully as your conversation plays out. He raises one eyebrow at you, and you’re not sure if that’s him trying to be condescending or supportive.

“I- I apologize, ma’am-” you start, looking for a way to dig your way out of the situation, “The order does say that you requested the theme, but you didn’t specify any decorations. Our decorators won’t take liberties with the order on their own if you don’t request-”

“I don’t have time for this,” Linda interjects, and you clamp your mouth shut with a dull ache beginning to throb in your temples. “I’m supposed to be at a winning streak themed party in twenty minutes and I have an embarrassment of a cake to show for it. I should be reimbursed.”

“The cake wasn’t paid for in advance,” you tell her mildly, trying not to crinkle the page with her order on it as you hold it up.

“Uh… accommodated, then. I shouldn’t have to pay for something I didn’t want in the first place!”

“I’m afraid I can’t just give you a cake for free, ma’am. I’m not authorized.”

“Can I speak to your manager, then?”

You open your mouth to say that, technically, you are what amounts to the shift manager. It’s just you and Eddie and Steve in the store, and even though neither of your job descriptions really include the word ‘manager’ in them, seniority rules over all. You’ve been here long enough to be able to train them, so by right you’re the one in charge.

But then a warm hand touches the curve of your lower back, and Steve appears out of thin air to gently scoot you aside without so much as a hello.

“What seems to be the trouble, ma’am?” Steve smiles, and you could almost mistake him for being sincere if his fingertips didn’t dig into your back just slightly before pulling away.

Linda visibly softens her demeanor, smoothing her stringy blonde hair away from her face. “Are you the manager?”

You scrutinize his profile, trying for all the world to read his fucking mind, because you have no idea what he’s thinking. He’s barely even taken a cake order, let alone dealt with a disgruntled customer with a botched one.

“That, I am!” Steve declares, and oh. Cheeky motherfucker. He’s doing the voice. He bats his eyelashes- big, long, sweeping blinks that you think can make him take flight if he tries much harder. “What can I do for you?”

“This girl,” Linda tells him shortly, not even looking at you when she motions in your direction, “is refusing to compromise about this cake. It’s not what I ordered, and if I have to show up for this party without a winning streak themed cake, I’m going to be embarrassed. The customer is always right!”

“In matters of taste,” Eddie says from over your shoulder.

Linda fixes Eddie with a cold stare. “I’m sorry?”

“That, uh… that saying.” Eddie steps up to your other side, obviously choking back a laugh as he clears his throat. “The full saying is, ‘The customer is always right in matters of taste.’ Meaning you’re right about your order, we can’t argue with your personal preferences.”

“Exactly.” Steve shrugs easily, the picture of self-assurance as he takes the order sheet from your hand and looks it over. You’re not even sure if he entirely understands how to dissect the order sheet itself, but he looks convincing enough while doing it. “If you don’t like the cake, you don’t have to buy it. But my gi- ‘ this’ girl is right.”

You snap your eyes toward Steve, the back of your neck burning. His what?

Steve continues like he’s made no mistake whatsoever. “We can’t give you the cake for free- the only person who can do that is the owner.”

Linda scowls. “‘Take it or leave it,’ you mean?”

Steve affords her a kind smile. “I’d be happy to pull any of our cakes out of the display instead, if you see any you prefer.”

“No,” Linda insists, obviously unhappy about it, “I’ve been coming here for twenty years and this has never happened, the owner knows me-”

“We can call Mimi, if you’d like,” he adds.

“No, like I said, I have a party in twenty minutes,” Linda says sourly, and begins digging through her purse. “No, I’ll pay for this one, I guess.”

Behind the counter, you watch Steve ball up Linda’s cake order sheet in his palm, squeeze it unnecessarily hard, and toss it into the waste bin. Then, faster than fucking lightning, you watch Eddie type the price of the cake into the cash register. He hits the sales tax button twice.

“Come back soon!” Eddie says cheerfully as he hands her the receipt.

You stand motionless behind them both, dumbfounded, until Linda leaves. And then Steve’s immediately cursing, shaking his head as he turns and starts walking toward the back room, hands untying the bow at his waist to undo his apron. “They’ll say anything for free shit. Anything. What the fuck is a ‘winning streak’ theme, anyways? I swear- no, you know what, I don’t actually fucking care. I used to give out freebies all the time at Scoops. But this isn’t corporate, and Mimi knows my family-”

You follow him closely, disappearing into the back with him as he continues blathering. “Why did you do that?”

“Hm?” Steve pauses as he’s pulling his apron over his head, and stares at you for a few seconds, like he doesn’t even know what you’re referring to. And then, you see his brown eyes widen. “Oh! I guess… I mean, I could see it going bad, and I figured if she wasn’t listening to you, then she’d probably listen to me. If I, y’know. Put the moves on her.”

You snort loudly. “Always so fuckin’ cute- I could have handled it myself.”

“No, I know you could have. I know.” Steve nods, his hair sort of fluttering around his face as he looks away from you. “But… y’know, you don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to, while I’m here. I’ve been tortured by KGB and fought monsters, I can deal with an angry customer-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh. Uh…” He pauses, eyes drifting off to the side, to meet Eddie’s, who trailed behind you into the back room and is lingering over your shoulder. “Dun- Dungeons and… and Dragons? Yeah… yeah! Have you- have you played it?”

“You?” Your giggle splutters loudly in your chest before bubbling up out of your throat unexpectedly. “Steve Harrington plays Dungeons and Dragons? You like that goofy sword and sorcery shit?”

“Fucking metal sword and sorcery shit, thank you very much,” Eddie snaps, and you scoff at him.

Steve chuckles at your little jab at his words from earlier, looking anywhere but at your face. “Yeah, sort of. I mean… Munson taught me a bit about it.”

“Everything he knows.” Eddie’s grin is wide and holds an air of mystery to it, like he knows something you don’t.

“Hm. Put that on a t-shirt for me and maybe I’ll buy it.” You blush, staring at Steve’s profile as he pulls a water bottle out of the employee break cabinet and takes a long drink from it. Then, you turn to Eddie, who leans against the door jamb. “Where’d you learn that thing about ‘the customer is always right,’ anyways?”

“Hm? Oh… I used to help my uncle Wayne in his garage,” Eddie explains nonchalantly. “Learned a lot from watching him deal with customers.”

“Right,” you hum, nodding slowly, and then turn to Steve. “And you. You could get in so much fucking trouble if Mimi finds out about that whole thing. Where did you pick that up?”

“My best friend- Robin Buckley? You know her?” Steve says as he puts the bottle back in the cabinet and snaps it shut. You shake your head, and he goes on. “Yeah. She’s crazy smart. We worked together at Scoops, and Family Video. Always had a way to respond to everything, even though she’s awkward as hell. And before you ask- yes, she would have tried to put the moves on Linda, too.”

“Would she?”

“Oh yeah.” Steve grins at you fondly, making your heart stall in your chest a bit. “Every single move in the book. If you ask me, she’s better with the ladies than I am.”

You laugh, then nod your head slowly, looking him up and down. “Okay. You’re actually fucking hilarious, Harrington. Too bad I hate your guts.”

“Really? I’m moving up in the world.” Steve grunts. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, my darling dearest.”

“Is that why you almost called me ‘your girl?’”

His smirk creates cute little dimples in his cheeks. “No, I almost did that because you’re the only one who can tell me to suck on their nuts, and I’ll actually consider doing it.”

Before you can even take a moment to process that little wise-crack, Eddie’s distracting you. His hand passes through your line of vision, then comes up and presses against the front of your green apron, just against your breast. You genuinely think he’s trying to feel you up, and you snap your eyes down to find his ringed fingers scraping a giant drop of cream cheese frosting off of your chest.

You feel your cheeks heat up. That must have come from when you were frosting the cinnamon rolls- more like smacking them around with frosting, really- and the fact that it was there the entire time Linda was here is more than humiliating. You must have looked like such an idiot, trying to conduct yourself like a manager-

“Messy little thing, aren’t you?” Eddie murmurs, using that same fucking condescending tone that makes your hair stand on end, before meeting your eye and sucking the glob of frosting off of his two fingers.

You get a sudden head rush, and it takes way more self restraint than it should to not audibly whimper. Oh, he really shouldn’t have done that.

You stare at him for a long moment, your eyes flickering between his, and his fingers in between his ungodly pink lips. You… you feel like you’re fucking drowning, floundering around with your head underwater and you don’t know what to do. You snap your eyes to Steve, looking for some sort of sympathy or support, but he doesn’t give you any of that. Instead, he just winks.

No. They absolutely should not have done that.

“Fucking… fuck this. Fuck both of you- I have work to do,” you hiss, trying to skirt past buckets of frosting to get around where Eddie’s blocking the doorway, but he refuses to step aside, instead creating a one-man barricade while he snickers and continues sucking on his fingers just to rile you up even more. “Fucking move, Eddie.”

“Oh, it’s Eddie now?” He grins, obviously enjoying how much you’re struggling, with your chest pushed up against his and your arm nearly circling his waist to lever yourself against the other side of the door.

“Fuck you,” you spit, for a lack of anything else to say.

“For the second time, I wish you would.” Eddie raises his hand and captures your chin, tilting your head up so that you look at him, instead of over his shoulder or to the side at Steve. Your heart jumps into your throat, feeling his damp fingers on your cheek and remembering how he had been sucking on them a second ago. “Might clean out that filthy mouth of yours.”

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?” You snatch Eddie by his pinstriped collar, simultaneously pulling him down to your height and also pushing him back against the wire rack of boxes along the far wall. Eddie curses, stumbling and grabbing onto your hips as if that will steady himself. His nose nudges yours from this angle, and how close you crowd up against him. “You drive me up the fucking wall, Munson. You think you can just sweet talk me like I’m some uptight customer?”

“Woah,” Steve says from behind you, but he doesn’t sound the slightest bit surprised. More amused, and intrigued. “I think you struck a nerve.”

“Did I?” Eddie whispers, with a hint of a smirk still on his face. His dark eyes are looking directly into yours.

He doesn’t even have time to breathe before you kiss him. Desperately. Long and hard and sort of angry, open-mouthed so that you can taste the frosting still on his tongue. He makes the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard- somewhere between a sigh and a moan, as his hands come up to cup your face and pull you closer into him. His knee slotting between your legs, not pushing up but just remaining solidly there for you to lean against it. It takes an inordinate amount of strength for you not to grind yourself down onto his thigh.

“Guess that’s a yes,” Steve says calmly from just beside you.

Eddie pulls back for air, forehead resting against yours, thumbs stroking your cheekbones in a mockery of a tender embrace. “Go on. Show Harrington how much you hate him, too.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you grumble, but your hands have better plans. One stays on Eddie’s shoulder, but the other snatches Steve by the collar and pulls him forward so that you can attack his face with the same amount of fervor. Eddie has no compunction to be gentlemanly- while Steve’s hand rests lightly on your lower back, Eddie’s creeps up underneath your skirt to give your ass a tight squeeze, pulling you forward to grind against his thigh and making you gasp against Steve’s mouth so that his tongue can lick deeper into yours.

Nothing quite prepares you for how Eddie’s voice affects you when he says, “Uh oh, Harrington. I think I was right- she likes you. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

You make a short noise in your throat, your hand sliding down Steve’s chest to his waist, fingers beginning to make quick work of his fly. “Let’s- let’s just double check, huh? Make extra sure.”

“God- yeah. Yeah, okay. Just- be on the safe side.” Steve’s tongue is burning up when it touches your neck, his head nuzzling down so that he can graze your throat with his teeth.

Eddie catches your hand before you manage to wiggle it beneath his waistband, and looks you directly in the eye just before he spits onto your palm. You whimper noisily at the feeling of it, warm and wet, dripping between your fingers while Steve licks at your neck and heat simmers under the tender skin between your thighs.

Air punches from Steve’s mouth when you work his trousers down his hips and pull his erection out of his boxers- he’s not quite pulsing and swollen yet, but your fingertips still just barely manage to meet from how thick he is.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington,” you curse as you give him a languid stroke, feeling him shudder when you brush your thumb over his tip and then drag your hand down his length again. Eddie’s saliva helps to make the motion fluid and smooth, adding a slick sound to punctuate Steve’s loud gasp.

“What?” Steve hisses, trying his best to appear passive, but his voice betrays him and cracks. He gazes at you a bit apprehensively, his doe eyes looking a little foggy with need as they flicker over your face and focus on your lips.

“Nothing on earth needs to be this big.”

Eddie’s free hand coming up to weave through Steve’s hair and jerking his head back. His teeth catch Steve’s earlobe just before he murmurs, “Told ya, big boy.” Eddie looks directly at you over Steve’s shoulder. “Harrington’s packing a fucking monster, isn’t he?”

You hum as you let your fingers drift along the length of him. Steve’s gaze suddenly turns darker, and his chuckle falls flat out of his mouth like an exclamation of awe more than anything. “Think you can take it?”

You don’t answer that. Your grip tightens just a bit and he groans loudly, his eyes rolling back as he tilts his head toward the ceiling. “Are you one of those guys that’ll come as soon as I gag?”

“Fuck, maybe?” Steve’s hands cup the sides of your neck and trail up to cradle your head as you lower yourself in front of him.

Eddie scoffs. “He can’t handle it worth a shit. Don’t go easy on him.”

“Then he’d better hold on to something.” You scrape your nails down his exposed thigh, reveling in the way his entire body shakes at the feeling.

And, without any further warning, you wrap your lips around his cock.

Steve curses, hands balling into fists just before he slams them down against the shelf he’s leaning on. Through your lashes, you watch him gasp for breath and you wonder if he’s honestly going to last long enough to fuck you properly. Not that it really matters, though, because Eddie seems like he’ll be more than happy to pick up where Steve leaves off.

Eddie’s hand rests on the crown of your head, guiding you on Steve’s cock. His tip leaks with precum that tastes salty on your tongue when you lick at his slit, and as you take him further into your mouth, you realize just how right you were. He hits the back of your throat, making tears spring up in your eyes and a quiet moan bubble up out of your chest on its own when you choke.

Steve just about loses his mind over it. He groans loudly, scrambling for a place to put his hands and ending up with a fistful of Eddie’s uniform shirt while he tries to compose himself.

“Holy fuck, you look so good with your mouth full,” Steve grunts, his free hand coming up your chin as he slides his cock out of your mouth and back in again.

“I think I like her more when she can’t talk back to us,” Eddie chuckles darkly, pressing on the back of your head and making you choke again.

Steve hisses, his fingers tightening on your cheek. “Look at me, let me see those eyes- there you go. Pretty baby.”

You whimper, letting your jaw go slack so that Steve can fuck your mouth all he wants while you try to steady yourself. You should hate it. You should hate this- you hate them both. You think.

Wait. Do you?

You’ve never been this needy before, but hell if your cunt isn’t just throbbing in your uncomfortably wet panties, and your nails are digging into Steve’s skin where you grip his thighs for support. If he notices any pain from it, he doesn’t say anything- just keeps giving you these erotic little gasps every time his cock nudges the back of your throat and your eyes flicker shut for a moment before he taps your cheek and makes you open them again.

“We should do this more often,” Steve says thickly, and without thinking, you hum in agreement. You add a little resistance against Eddie’s hand on your head to regain a bit of control, letting your tongue roll against Steve’s length however you want.

“You think she’ll give it this good if she’s getting fucked?” Eddie muses suddenly, his finger’s toying with your hair rather than guiding you anymore.

“Fuck- only one way to find out.” Steve shakily releases the fistful he has of Eddie’s shirt, letting him slip away from his side. Eddie’s hand leaves your head, instead falling to the tie on his apron to start undoing it.

You whine softly, shuffling up on your knees and nearly slipping when you feel Eddie’s hands flipping the skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the cool air. His large hand smooths over the hem of your underwear, then lowers to stroke the cleft of your pussy through the fabric.

“Oh, poor thing.”

“What is it?” Steve asks.

“She’s soaked through these pretty panties,” Eddie coos softly as his fingers stroke back and forth over the fabric, nudging your clit with achingly gentle, indirect touches. You moan, arching your back for more. “Baby got so wet from sucking Steve’s cock, huh? Sweet little pussy needs some attention?”

“Shit. God, that’s so hot. Fuck-” Steve grabs your hair, guiding you off of his cock with a wet noise that makes Eddie’s fingers press on your clit just a little bit harder. You splutter, drool trailing from your lips and dripping down your chin as you try to catch your breath. Something you can’t quite do, because Eddie won’t stop touching you.

Steve tilts your head up, leveraging you backwards a bit as he kneels in front of you. “You want Eddie to fuck you? Is that what you need?”

You nod, wrapping your hand around Steve’s wet cock and giving him a few slow pumps. “Yeah, I-” you hiccup when you feel Eddie’s fingers hook your panties to the side, and dip through your dripping folds, unobstructed. “Oh fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Don’t hate us so goddamn much now?” Eddie croons as he presses two fingers deep into your pussy.

You groan and hang your head, forehead pressing up against Steve’s navel and your nails sinking into the meat of his thigh. You can feel his cock twitch in your hand, and it occurs to you that he likes that pain- or maybe he just likes holding you against him while Eddie fingerfucks you.

Steve’s fingers card through your hair tenderly. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Munson. I think she’s having trouble talking.”

“For a change.” Eddie curls his fingers, and you nearly lose your balance, thankful that you have Steve to hold you up. “So fuckin’ wet… I think I want to taste it first.”

Eddie’s fingers leave you, and you openly sob against Steve’s stomach as his grip tightens in your hair. “E-eddie…”

His two hands curl around the waistband of your panties, and rip through the fabric as though it’s only paper. “Hold her up, Steve, it sounds like she’s gonna need it.”

Steve puts his hands on your shoulders and holds you up, rocking back so that he can get a good look at your face. Eddie spreads your legs apart, and you can feel him crowding his body in between them. There’s a slight pause, and then his tongue touches you, licking a stripe of fucking fire through your cunt from behind.

Oh shit. Holy fucking shit. It’s too good, too warm and slick when you’ve been aching for it for way too long, your clit pulsing desperately and burning hot when his tongue strokes over it. You strain up against Steve’s hands, but he keeps pushing you forward, keeping you there against Eddie’s mouth. You moan obscenely loud, your hands tearing at Steve’s shirt like it’ll somehow convince him to let you go.

“You’re so damn pretty like this, angel,” Steve whispers, tilting your chin up when your head falls so he can keep looking at your face. He’s flushed, his lips parted and his eyes drooping and so dark that you nearly balk under his gaze.

Eddie groans in the back of his throat and finally pulls back, and you’re not sure whether to chase his mouth or to sob for relief, so you sort of do both at the same time. He plants a hand on your ass to keep you from falling backwards into him.

“Fuck, she tastes so sweet. Here-” You feel him move, and then Steve holds up a hand to catch something that Eddie tosses to him.

You lift your eyes and discover that Steve is holding your torn underwear. The light blue fabric looks so out of place and innocent, little pink flowers decorating the waistband. It makes it worse that he’s looking directly at you, keeping you frozen in place. He holds them up to his nose and breathes deeply, letting his eyes flutter shut just briefly before he looks at you again and drags the soaked crotch of them across his tongue.

“Steve…” you breathe, overwhelmed by the sight of him and the sound of his groan of pleasure. You search for something to say to him, but nothing comes before you feel something hot and thick pushing into your soaking entrance. You gasp, and then claw at Steve’s thigh in lieu of something to hold onto. “Fuck, Eddie-”

“Shouldn’t you be choking on Steve’s cock right about now?” Eddie hisses through his teeth, sounding strained and letting out a low groan to punctuate it.

You whine, feeling unbelievably stretched and full as Eddie splits you open, but you still scramble backwards and sink your mouth onto Steve’s cock so quickly that a gasp leaps out of his chest.

Steve punches out a little laugh, his hand twisting your hair and pushing you down until your eyes water. “So agreeable once you get your pussy filled.”

“God, she’s so tight,” Eddie grunts as he hollows out and starts thrusting, reaching deeper inside you each time. You don’t think it’s so much that you’re tight as he’s just big- you haven’t seen his cock, but you can feel it, like you haven’t fucking felt anything else before, and it’s good. You can feel every inch, every ridge, and it makes your eyes fully roll back into your skull. “Fuck, you gotta feel this-”

“Can’t. ‘M not gonna last, shit…” Steve sounds wrecked, his words coming out sharp and desperate. The hand on your head is shaking, and you’re honestly impressed he’s lasted as long as he has. “‘M gonna come down this pretty throat.”

“You hear that, sweet pea? You gonna swallow all of Steve’s cum?” Eddie’s hand weaves through your hair around Steve’s fingers, aiding in shoving your head down onto his cock.

As if you weren’t going to, and as if he wasn’t already fucking your mouth faster than you could reasonably keep up. But you whimper and bury your nose in the patch of coarse hair at the base of Steve’s cock, inhaling his scent and tasting his musky flavor on your tongue, and you swallow around him. And then you keep swallowing, because Steve comes hard.

He sounds absolutely gorgeous when he does it, too. If Eddie wasn’t fucking you so hard that you couldn’t stop whining, you think it would be nearly like a symphony to hear Steve reduced to quiet whimpers. By the time the hands on your head relax enough to let you off of him, though, he’s completely out of breath.

“Good girl,” Steve pants, his hand lifting up to caress your cheek and to wipe a little dribble of his cum from the corner of your mouth, so soft that it could be construed as sweet if there wasn’t any context to it. “Fuck… you were so good.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie coos into your ear, still driving his hips into yours with such force that it’s jolting you toward Steve. “Good baby, pretty baby- takes cock like a perfect little slut.”

You groan, hanging your head and arching your back toward Eddie. You seize up, your orgasm simmering low in you like the receding tide before a fucking tsunami, and you’re almost scared of how big it feels.

“She liked that,” Eddie chuckles darkly, bending further over you so that his breath tickles your ear. “You like it when I call you a slut, huh? Our perfect. Little. Slut.”

You open your mouth to say his name, tell him to shut up, or keep going, or anything, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. Your hand juts forward and clamps down like a vise onto Steve’s thigh, finding that he’s pulled his pants up. Your nails scratch at stiff khaki twill, trying to beg him to take pity on you, but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.

“Pick her up,” Steve says above you. “I want to see her face when she comes.”

Oh, so he’s trying to kill you, actually. That tracks.

Eddie’s arm snakes around your waist and hauls you up, and he rocks back onto his heels to pull your back against his chest. He hugs you close to him, shushing you when his cock hits you from a different angle and you cry out sharply from the feeling.

“Pretty thing can’t take it,” Steve murmurs as he crowds in close, his hands coming up to caress you through your dress. The fabric is too goddamn rough and itchy, and your skin is too sensitive for him to be toying with you now.

“Oh, she can take it.” Eddie sounds so sure, his voice rough and stony as he rocks his pelvis up against you while, at the same time, pulling you down into his lap. “She can take all of it. Can’t you, baby?”

You hope the question is rhetorical. You’re trembling, too lost in the feeling of the mind-numbing bliss Eddie’s giving you to come up with a response at this point. Your hand plunges back over your shoulder into a mess of curly hair, and you feel him turn his head to brush his lips against your ear.

Steve’s hand brushes up your thigh, creeping under your skirt that’s draped across both you and Eddie’s knees. You barely have time to pick your head up and intellectualize what he’s doing before his thumb touches your clit.

“Oh fuck-” Eddie chokes out urgently, just at the same time as you sink your nails into his forearm and all of your floor muscles lock down around him.

And then the tsunami hits.

You nearly scream, your cunt tightening up to wring everything out of the sensation that it can. Eddie’s cock is so hard and it hits inside you so perfectly every time that you swear you’re going to die from it. You’re collapsing forward, despite Eddie’s grip on your waist and Steve’s solid chest creating a barrier for you to fall into- your limbs feel liquid, all your muscles finally relaxing all at once.

You feel Eddie falter, his hand slipping on your waist so that you do fall into Steve’s chest. While Eddie’s cock throbs inside you and his moans fill your ears, Steve’s hands cup your face and tilt your head up toward his. And then his lips are on yours, and his tongue is licking deep into your mouth at the same time as you feel Eddie come deep inside your cunt.

You don’t want Eddie to pull out. Not really. You’re not going to tell him to stay there inside you while you’re both crouched awkwardly on the hard floor, but you do wish he’d take at least a few seconds before he does, because the aching emptiness he leaves in his place is enough to make tears spring up in your eyes.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, you did so well,” Eddie whispers as you sob openly from the sensation, his arm coming back around your waist to pull you against him. And then you both sort of topple backwards, his shoulders hitting the stacks of backstock frosting buckets as Steve shuffles back to lean against the wire rack across from you. He pulls your legs into his lap and starts stroking his hand across your bare calf.

You try to catch your breath while Eddie reaches for something on the floor off to the side. You blink your eyes open to find him fiddling with his discarded green apron, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket in it before wadding it up into a little ball.

He promptly tucks it between your legs and starts cleaning you up with it.

“R’you using your apron… as a cum rag?” You slur tiredly at him, squeaking a little as the rough fabric scrapes across your overly sensitive clit.

“Don’t want to leave a mess,” he mutters easily, making Steve chuckle across from you. “Why s’it that I can fuck you half out of your mind and you’ll still bitch me out about how I clean shit?”

“‘Cause it’s fun t’see you all mad. You’re pretty when you’re pissy.” You feel his chest shake with laughter as he finishes wiping you down and tosses the apron aside, then wraps his arms snugly around your middle.

“Good thing you’re pretty all the time, then.” Eddie huffs, rocking you back and forth a little as he fits his head on your shoulder. You tap your fingers across his forearm, looking down at them and humming contentedly.

“What is it?” Steve asks, smiling at you almost fondly.

You sigh, dragging your fingertip along Eddie’s skin. “I like his tattoos.”

“I knew it,” Eddie whispers, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, making you giggle and shut your eyes. “I still haven’t shown you the rest of ‘em.”

“There’s always next time.”

Steve blinks. “You want to do this again?”

“Of course I want to fucking do this again, Steve,” you snap, rolling your eyes playflully. “Been wanting to jump both of you since you started, wasn’t it fucking obvious?”

“Was to me.” Eddie’s finger traces along your collar, toying with the first button on the front of your uniform dress. “Also, I haven’t seen your tits, so. I’m not done with you yet.”

“I dunno, the dress kind of does it for me,” Steve admits, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s, uh… cute. Like a 50s housewife or something.”

“Let’s get you a string of pearls and see how long ‘Big Dick’ Harrington lasts then,” Eddie snickers, and you laugh tiredly as you watch Steve flush.

You fall into easy silence, but just as soon as you relax into Eddie’s arms, the bell over the front door of the bakery jingles. And then the hand bell on the front counter dings loudly.

And dings again. And dings again. And dings agai-

“You gonna get it, this time?” Steve asks Eddie, sounding a little bit grumpy already.

“No, I’m gonna hold her a while longer,” Eddie says coolly, not leaving any room for discussion. He presses a tiny kiss to your neck, just underneath your ear, and you squeak in surprise at the lightness of it. “Go get ‘em, Mr. Manager Man.”

“Fuckin’-” Steve rolls his eyes as he gently sets your legs aside before gracelessly clambering up off the ground. He smooths out his uniform, tucking in the tail of his shirt before striding through the door into the kitchen. “What’s up, party people?”

“Do you have any chocolate cakes with white buttercream already made? I need it for tonight.”

Eddie scoffs in your ear, his hand drifting across your thigh to rest just shy of your pussy, making your breath hitch and your hips cant up toward his touch. “They always wait for the last fuckin’ minute, don’t they?”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things #roses*

169 notes · View notes

olomaya · 1 year

Text

Sludge Be Gone! Toddler Food and Snacks

2-Sep Update: Thank you @jeebeehey for the French translation. Please redownload if you'd like them.

25 July update:

Fixed an issue where the Trail Mix was resetting Sims. One of its components got lost when I was merging all the objects together so it kept giving an error when trying to pull it up. It should now not happen for either the high chair or the activity table. Redownload both the MAIN and the merged Objects file

24 July update: Thanks to @simdreams and @zanynka for the Brazilian Portuguese and Czech translations! You can redownload at the links below.

(Update: I forgot to include one of the files in the Objects file. It's just a little piece of food that toddlers pick up when eating snacks. If you downloaded both files already, you don't need to redownload anything, just download the file and add to your game.) (Just download the updated Objects file)

They literally call the baby food "sludge" in the game files. EA really did TS3 toddlers dirty.

This was actually originally part of my Quickie Food and Snacks mod and I abandoned it (this seems to be a theme with me). But then I came back to it after TS4 Growing Together came out. I still haven't played that game but I know there's a preference/taste system in the game for baby food, which is really cool!

So this mod adds two interactions to the high chair to feed toddlers meals or snacks. There are 11 meals and 5 snacks. Similar to Growing Together, toddlers will love, like or hate certain foods. This preference is based on their favorite food (see more after the cut).

The foods work somewhat similar to recipes in that they require ingredients to be available. However, you only need to have at least 1 ingredient. Whatever ingredients you have will be used for the meal/snack. The icon images will tell you which 3 ingredients are required.

Teens+ can serve toddlers and they will stay and watch to make sure the toddler eats like a good little girl/boy.

There was a second complementary mod to close out this little series that would allow toddlers to eat their foods and snacks on their own on little tables but I probably won't have the time to finish testing it before I go on my summer holidays so I'll release it sometime end of next month when I'm back.

Credit/thanks: The food tray and bowl is from @aroundthesims. All other assets are from EA (TS3 and TS4). Icons are from Freepik.

Download HERE / Alternative: SFS

Enjoy! I'll be totally offline starting 1 July for about 2 weeks so do let me know before then if you run into any issues!

More info and details on features after the cut

Meal/Snack recipes: Each meal or snack requires 1-3 ingredients (either in your fridge or personal inventory) to be available. Again, you only NEED 1 of 3. Some of the ingredients are from the Store or cc (Icemunmun's Baker's Basket or Hot Chili) but if you don't have it, the game will just ignore it. If you have none, it won't be available.

Food categories/preferences: Preferences are based on the toddler's favorite food and along 4 categories: Sweet, Savory, Veggie and Cheese. So based on what their favorite food is, you can tell what their food preference category is. If you change the toddler's favorite food after playing with the mod, it will adjust to their new tastes BUT will keep whatever food they liked or hated before.

Category Preferences:

Sweet hates Veggie

Veggie hates Sweet AND Savory

Savory hates Sweet

Cheese is chill and can give or take anything

Here is the detailed breakdown below (if you want to be surprised and figure it out for yourself in the game, you can stop reading here):

SW - Sweet, SV - Savory, VG - Veggie, CH - Cheese Store - TS3 Store BB - Icemunmun’s Baker’s Basket HC - Icemunmun’s Hot Chili

Snacks: Trail Mix (SW) - Banana, Walnut (BB), Pecan (Store) Cheese Crackers (CH) - Cheese Apple Slices w. Almond Butter (SW, CH) - Apple, Cheese, Almond (BB) Cucumber Tuna Bites (SV) - Cucumber (Store), Tuna, Tomato Pita Chips w. Carrot Hummus (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Lemon

Meals: Chickpea Salad (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Watermelon PBJ Sandwich (SW) - Strawberry (Store), Almond (BB) Pancakes and Sausage (SW) - Any fruit, Sausage links Chicken Nuggets (SV) - Chicken, Carrot, Blueberry (Store) Fishsticks (SV) - Any fish, Potato, Carrot Meatballs w. Yogurt Sauce (SV) - Patty, Cucumber (Store), Tomato Mushroom Omelet (VG) - Egg, White Cap mushroom, Onion Fried Plantains (SW) - Banana (I considered making a custom plantain ingredient but too lazy), Tomato, Onion Falafel w. Yogurt Sauce (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Cucumber (Store), Tomato Cheese Ravioli (CH) - Cheese, Tomato, Strawberry (Store) Mac and Cheese (CH) - Cheese

So for example, the toddler in the photos, Duncan. His favorite food is Fried Peanut Butter Banana Sandwich (oh, America) which is in the Sweet category. So I know he will eat any of the sweet category foods. He tossed the mushroom omelet when I served it to him but he likes mac and cheese.

@kpccfinds @pis3update @s3cc-finds

#download #s3cc #s3cc download #sims 3 cc #toddlerfoodnsnacks

838 notes · View notes

winterspiderpurrs · 14 days

Text

Peter wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, sipping a hot chocolate. Blinking slowly, Peter stared at the TV though not watching it.

Sam and Steve were glancing at Peter before talking to each other quietly.

" You sure you've seen him like this before? He hissed when he sat down. Maybe he is hiding an injury."

Sam nods his head.

" Yeah, it's weird seeing him so zoned out. He was like that before when he went on that mission where he was gone for a couple of weeks. He does like to his hide injuries...."

" Maybe we should tell Bucky"

" Tell me what?"

Steve and Sam looked up to look at Bucky. Steve frowns a little looking at the time it was almost 2pm.

" Still in your pajamas?"

Bucky shrugged and then walked over to the frig, pulling out an assortment of items. Pulling an empty tray out to place items of food on it. He started cutting some pepperonis, some cheese as well. Pulling out some crackers to add to the tray too.

" So what you need to tell me?"

Sam reaches over and steals a slice of the cheese.

" It's Peter. We think he is hiding an injury."

Bucky paused in making the tray. He glanced out toward the living room to look at Peter before looking back down.

" He isn't injured. Doc checked him before he allowed him home."

" Yeah but you know he likes to hide his injuries. He hissed when he sat down. Obviously something is wrong."

Bucky looks up at Sam and then at Steve. He smirks a little, moving to left the tray of goodies.

" This is one of those time where ya always tell me you don't wanna know"

He leaves the kitchen, setting the tray of goodies on the coffee table, then pulls the coffee table closer to the couch so everything is within arms reach. He kisses Peter's temple before sitting next to me, snuggling up close.

Steve frowns a little confused.

Sam blinks then makes a face.

" uuggh no yeah we don't need to know"

"What? What is it?"

Sam gives Steve a look.

" Cap. They obviously went at it like rabbits to make up for lost time"

Steve blinks slowly before he turns bright red.

" Oh my god"

#writing prompt #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #winterspiderpurrs

68 notes · View notes

justastraymoa · 1 month

Text

ADVENTURES WITH CHEESE PT 2 EXTENDED EDITION

It has been two weeks since I got back from my business trip. The boys had been over once to visit Cheese. Unannounced and loaded with every ramen under the sun.

“We were in the neighborhood.” Bin shrugged holding out the bag of noodles like a peace offering.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “You are lucky I was even home.” I snatched the bag and walked to the kitchen, leaving them to take their shoes off and shut the door.

“Like you have anywhere to be. It’s a Friday night.” Lino scoffed not so subtly looking around.

I threw a packet of ramen at him in retaliation. “What if I had a date? I am young and relatively good looking, I could date!” I snapped. I wasn’t going to mention that I hadn’t been on a date in years and had no intention of dating anytime soon either. It wasn’t in my scope. I had better things to do with my life.

Lino gave me a doubtful look as he tossed the ramen back to me.

“Fine, I didn’t have a date with anyone but Cheese tonight. Friday is cat movie night.” I relented. I pointed Lino to the couch where Cheese was already waiting wrapped up in his favorite blanket with a small pile of cat treats to snack on while we watched the movie.

Lino made a small noise in his throat before taking out his phone and snapping a picture. I chuckled at him, understanding the noises of cuteness like it was a second language.

Chan came into the kitchen and started to help with the bags. “Sorry for showing up unannounced. I wanted to text but they insisted on surprising you and Cheese.”

“Its no problem, you guys can stay for movie night if you want.” I offered handing Chan the stuff to start making the noodles.

Hyune skipped over to the living room. “What are you watching?”

“The Lion King. Hyune, Bin, the closet is down the hall, grab some pillows and blankets. Lino, move the coffee table. We can make a nest in front of the tv for all of us.”

“What is Channie going to do? Not fair!” Hyune pouted even as he moved to the hall to grab the stuff.

“Channie is helping me make noodles. Do you want to switch you big baby?”

There was silence from the hall and I nodded to myself. I didn’t think so.

Cheese mewed as the coffee table was moved off to the side and his living room was covered in pillows and blankets. He unfurled from the nest of blanket he was currently in, stretched lazily, and hopped down to the floor to inspect the much bigger nest currently being made.

He sniffed at a pillow before rubbing on it and moved on to a blanket, which apparently needed to be moved. He pawed at it until it was in the correct spot before he laid down and looked up to me to see if I was going to come join him and start the movie already.

I smiled at him. “Give me a few minutes, babe, I’m making some snacks before we start the movie.” In answer Cheese merely yawned and started kneading the pillow within his reach.

Lino and Bin started a small pillow fight that was quickly becoming aggressive. Bin got Lino square in the side of the head before Lino hit him back so hard he actually fell sideways onto the couch.

“Enough. You are going to break something. And that something might be you. Lay down and get everything situated. Someone turn the tv on and get the movie loaded up.” I ordered as Chan and I moved around each other in the kitchen like we had been doing this for years. Oddly enough, he seemed to know where everything pretty much was with minimal looking. Not like my kitchen was that big, but still. He seemed natural and comfortable.

“You are good with them, you know.” He commented as we set up 5 bowls on one of my serving trays and 5 drinks on another.

I shrugged one shoulder. “Its natural I guess. Its not like they are hard to deal with or anything.”

He laughed shortly once. “Y/n, I live with them. I know exactly how hard they can be to deal with. And you just seem to roll with their craziness.”

“I like their craziness. Its somehow comforting, warm. I don’t know, its hard to describe.”

“Feels like family?” he suggested quietly with a small secret smile.

I blushed and didn’t answer. I didn’t need too; we both knew it was true. Even in the very short time I had known these 4 men, they felt like family. We felt like family.

I laughed at the antics of my boys. All 5 of them including Cheese. Two months ago it was just me and Cheese and now I have a whole slew more.

In the beginning I was worried that we would slowly and naturally start to drift apart now that I had Cheese back, but it ended up being the complete opposite. The Chan Clan came over to visit at least once a week, sometimes together, sometimes one or two of them would come alone. And Cheese has spent several weekends over at their apartment. He truly has stolen their hearts. Even turning dog person Hyune into a cat person!

Now I was scrolling through my old albums feeling nostalgic and just a little depressed. Cheese was so tiny and cute! Not that he wasn’t cute now, but he would never let me wrap him up in a burrito like he did when he was a teeny tiny thing.

And while he was still clumsy there was nothing like watching a kitten learn to walk and run and jump. Watching them fail and stumble around, running into things and misjudging distances. Just watching them learn the big world around them.

A harsh knock came unexpectedly early one afternoon as Cheese and I were lounging on the couch doom scrolling.

“One moment!” I called as I slipped a sweater over my frankly a little too revealing for company tank top.

I opened the door to see the building supervisor.

“We are evacuating the building for a week. One of your neighbors informed us he has an infestation of bed bugs that he has not been able to take care of on his own.” He informed me after the initial niceties were over.

I could feel myself make a disgusted face. Bed bugs! Gross! “How long do we have before we have to get out? I need to pack and find a place to go.” I looked behind me already mentally packing things.

“Fifteen minutes.”

I turned back to the man shocked. Fifteen minutes! How was I supposed to get all that done in that short of a time frame!

True to his word, almost exactly fifteen minutes after we parted ways there was another knock on my door and someone yelling it was time to go.

I sighed heavily and scooped Cheese into a little sling I made out of a sheet so I could have enough hands to carry the two bags I managed to pack. One for me, one for Cheese. He wriggled in the sheet confused for a second before settling down and popping his head out a hole he found to see what was going on.

I piled us all into my compact car and pulled my phone out of my bag to look for a place to stay nearby that was within my budget. The problem was hotels and motels were not cheap within the city and I was right in the middle of my pay period, which means I am broke af.

Wriggling annoyed out of the sling Cheese started inspecting the car, I'm sure getting into things he should not be getting into. I made sure to keep one eye on him to make sure he didn't eat anything he shouldn't.

They could say whatever they wanted. I would cook, clean, and do any other chores I damn well wanted to thank them while I was there. I felt my face pout petulantly as I started to drive towards the Chan Clan apartment. Cheese settled on my lap as I drove.

I was feeling very weird about staying with them, not because I was uncomfortable around them, but because I was not accustomed to being the one being taken care of. I know what I am. I am and have always been a mother figure. I tend to mother everyone. People have told me that it can get annoying. It has been something that bothers me about myself, but I also can't stop being who I am.

That being said, I was worried that I would annoy the boys, and they would stop talking to me. I really enjoy our friendship, and I would be devastated to lose it now.

I knocked on the door ten minutes after they texted, bottom lip between my teeth. Hyune opened the door and gave me an odd look.

"Did you forget your key?" He reached to take the bags from me and let me in.

Truthfully, I was so nervous about staying with them and so thrown off by the whole situation I forgot I even had a key to their place. They gave it to me a couple weeks ago.

"Who is it, Hyune?" Bin shouted from somewhere inside the apartment.

There was music playing form the kitchen as well. I assumed it was Lino cooking. And I could see the tv playing from the doorway, but no one was in the living room to watch it at the moment.

Hyune set my bags on the couch and reached out to give me a hug and Cheese a scritch behind the ear. "It's y/n!" He shouted. I flinched away as he was still close to my ear. He grimaced in apology.

There was a couple bangs and a crash before 3 sets of footsteps started toward us. "Hey you two! I was just setting up the room for you." Chan greeted giving me a hug and peck on the cheek. I handed Cheese over to Lino, who took him happily and rubbed his face on Cheeses head.

"Room? Uh, no? You only have 4 rooms, and I am not stealing someone's room." I responded.

"Too late. I already moved in with Bin." Hyune answered.

"Well move back! I am just fine sleeping on the floor or on the couch!"

"No!" all three almost shouted. I blinked at them kind of shocked by the vehement statement.

Fine, I could compromise. I already know I was going to do chores for them while I was here, so i would let the room thing go.

The next few days were shockingly fun. The five of us worked well together, even if there was only 3 rooms and one bathroom. Our schedules seemed to complement each other well and we didn't really get in each other's way.

And between Lino and I meals were always ready on time and semi healthy. There was only one or two times when we got takeout instead, and it was planned on in advance.

They even incorporated some of my weekly routines that they knew about like friday night cat movie night and lazy saturday morning. They did it without even seeming to think about it. It was a surprise to come into the living room and find a nest of pillows and blankets already ready to go and the smurfs queued up and ready to be played. I almost teared up knowing that they were going so far out of their way to make me feel comfortable.

Chan tried to get me to stop helping with chores for the first few days, but soon gave in when he discovered how stubborn I could really be. Instead he settled on helping me with the chores. We did them together.

I was really enjoying my time in the Chan Clan apartment with them. I was only a tiny bit upset when I got the call from my buildings supervisor that the fumigation was taking longer than expected and it would be at least another week before I could get back into my place.

And Cheese was completely in his element. He had a whole really make his own now that he was here for longer than a weekend. And there was always someone to cuddle with and pet him or play with him.

He was the king he was always meant to be.

It was an impossible thought. Not only because of the living with 4 men which was frowned upon in society even if none of us were really dating, but because I couldn't steal Hyunes room forever. He and Bin had been very generous for the entire time Cheese, and I had to stay here, but that wouldn't last forever. Or at least it shouldn't.

It just couldn't happen. Even if the thought of leaving my boys hurt my heart and made my eyes sting with unshed tears. My chest squeezed uncomfortably, and my breathing stuttered painfully. But i shook it off. There was nothing to be done about it.

I had a perfectly good apartment, that yeah was now possibly covered in bed bug carcasses and just the thought of bed bugs made my skin crawl. But it was livable and within my budget. It served me well.

A/N: welcome back. As always thank you for reading and interacting. Even if you only read I still thank you.

I hope you enjoyed this extended edition of Adventures with Cheese.

Masterlist

Skz + pets masterlist

74 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 2 months

Text

Prompt Day 12: Ow!

Word Count: 999

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: descriptions of sex

Summary: Eddie explains how he injured his wrist, much to your embarrassment

@corrodedcoffinfest

“This is going to be awful,” you complain, sliding down in your seat at the lunch table.

With a sigh, you reach up and rub a hand over your face.

Eddie chuckles and nudges your ankle with his booted foot under the table. You move your hand to nervously tug on the bottom of the black beanie you’re wearing—or rather, Eddie’s black beanie.

“Oh, relax,” he says.

Letting your hand drop, you give your boyfriend a pointed glare.

“You do realize I’m a part of this, too?” you ask.

“Babe,” Eddie groans, letting his head fall backwards, “they know we have sex.”

There’s no use arguing with him when he presents you with facts, so you cross your arms over your chest and sit up straighter in your chair. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Eddie smirking. He finds this way funnier than it is.

“Mac and cheese,” Gareth sing-songs as he sets his tray down across from you. “Mmm.”

“Can’t believe this is the third day in a row they’re serving meatloaf,” Jeff complains, obviously far less excited about his lunch. “I’m pretty sure this should have gone bad by now.”

“I think it did,” Frank adds, pulling out the chair next to you. The same offending meat is on his plate, and you wrinkle your nose up at the smell.

Eddie, the master of waiting for just the right moment, lets the guys dig into their food before he drops the bombshell on them.

“Well, gentlemen, I am afraid I have some unfortunate news.”

“Wassup?” Gareth asks through a mouth full of macaroni.

The three Hellfire members expect Eddie to tell them, so none bother looking up from their food. Your boyfriend gives them a few seconds, but when none of them lift their heads, he pointedly clears his throat.

“Ahem.”

Eddie makes sure all three sets of eyes are on him before he lifts his hand up from under the table and unceremoniously drops it down, the white cast landing with a thud.

“What happened?” Jeff asks.

“Is that your—dude, that’s your right hand! How are you gonna play guitar?!” Gareth has seemingly forgotten about his excitement over his meal.

“I said it was unfortunate,” Eddie says.

“Can you still DM?” Frank asks.

Letting out a sigh, you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Sometimes you wish you weren’t the only girl at this table.

“‘Course,” Eddie answers, waving his uninjured hand dismissively.

“What happened?” Jeff asks again.

Eddie lets out a snort of laughter and his eyes dart to you. The weight of your friends’ stares is hard to ignore. Face already heating up, you rub a hand over your forehead and avoid looking at any of them. The fabric of the beanie rolls up at your repeated motions, so you tug it back down and cross your arms once more.

“So,” Eddie starts, a mischievous smile on his face as he leans on the table, “I’m laying in bed, on my back—”

“Oh God,” Gareth interrupts. “Did you actually injure your wrist from jerking off?”

“Anyway, I’m on my back and we’re, ya know, fucking.”

There’s a small sense of relief when he doesn’t say “she was riding me” out loud.

“And I flip us so I’m on top,” Eddie continues. “My knee must’ve landed on a soft spot when I got upright, because suddenly there’s a loud crack and the bottom left corner of my bed collapses.”

“Oh fuck, so you fell off and hurt your wrist?” Frank asks.

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p”.

“I ignored it,” Eddie says with a laugh, “and just kept going. Since all my blood was down south, it didn't cross my mind that the whole frame holding the mattress up was wrecked. So, at one point I went to put my weight on my right hand near the middle of the bed. Next thing I know, her eyes get as wide as a goddamn owl’s, and right where my hand is gives out and we’re falling.” Eddie pauses to laugh, both at the memory and at the truth in what he says next. “I didn’t care, I still didn’t stop. And neither did she.” At this, Eddie throws you a wink and your face feels hot as a flame.

“Okay Aesop, get on with it,” you say.

“My hand is still on the same spot on the mattress and with the angle we’re tilted at now, I put even more weight on my hand so I can use the momentum to my advantage.”

The looks of interest on the guys’ faces makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. They look enraptured by your sex tale.

“I guess I overestimated my own strength,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Or you had too much weight on your wrist,” you mumble under your breath.

“And I,” Eddie mimes thrusting his hips and you hide your face in your hands, “which was too much for my arm and it gave out. I fell smack down, my head knocks right against hers, and my wrist twists beneath me before I land on it with most of my body weight.”

The guys all wince as you replay the memory in your mind.

“So,” Eddie concludes with a dramatic sigh, “that is the story of my sex injury.”

Gareth begins a sarcastic slow clap, in which Jeff and Frank join.

Despite the smile on your face, you complain to the guys, “You’re all idiots.”

The guys cease their applause and Jeff nods his head at you.

“You escaped unharmed even with this hard head falling on you?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. All four guys at the table watch as you push the beanie up to expose a quarter-sized bump that’s varying shades of pink and purple as it starts to heal.

Jeff sighs and picks his fork back up.

“I knew he had a hard head.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #corrodedcoffinfest #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #CCF

371 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 26 days

Note

Baby's breath for Hobie with ❣️ who's taking the twins for a playdate with Charlotte and Max. Maybe plays with the children himself aswell:3

AHHHHH so adorable! Thank you for requesting! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, cw food mention, FLUFF

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

“This place is terrible! I want to see the manager!” Hobie's clear acting voice makes you laugh while you take out the freshly baked cookies from the oven. His feigned anger is followed by childish giggling, four sets of happy kids playing along Hobie's antics.

The whole house smells of cookies, sweetness wafting from the kitchen to the living room where the twins' toys are scattered along the carpet to play and share with their newfound friends.

“Mummy's in the kitchen!” The unmistakable voice of Billie pipes up from the bout of laughter. “She's busy!”

You decide to leave the tray out to cool, opting to peek behind the door to watch Billie and Mona play with Charlotte and baby Max, who looks so tiny on Hobie's lap while his big brown eyes watch on as he holds onto Mona's Gromit plushie. There's a toy cashier in between Hobie and the girls, complete with plastic plates and utensils in front of Hobie. A toy kitchen stands behind the twins, towering over them in all its non-toxic colourful plastic.

Charlotte, looking absolutely adorable in her overalls and pink flower blouse (who's a year and a half younger than your girls,) whispers into Mona's ear. She doesn't quite understand the concept of whispering just yet, so you can clearly hear her question.

“What's a man-ager?”

Mona answers quickly, “someone who is the boss of a place.”

“So your mommy is the boss?” Mona nods, Billie paused her ‘argument’ with her dad to agree enthusiastically. Charlotte's eyes light up, “My mommy is the man-ager too then!”

You choke on air when you heard her adorable voice. Hand covering your laughter, Hobie catches your eyes with a look and a pout that says ‘help me out here.’ You shake your head with a grin, he mouths a ‘please’ and you instantly surrender especially when he flutters his long lashes at you. He knows the effect it has on you, and that's why you have Billie and Ramona.

Popping out of the doorway, you pretend to play the part, you look like it too with your frilly apron. “What seems to be the problem?” Sitting next to Billie, she gives you a nod while her arms are crossed over her chest, butterfly clips moving along her nodding head. Her sister follows right after with the same arms over the chest move, with a pout similar to her dad, her right sock mysteriously missing from her foot.

Charlotte looks over the two before copying their movements. You wish you had a camera with you to capture the adorable moment. Max gurgles, giggling at the toy in his tiny fists. You can see that Hobie's struggling not to laugh at the four of you. You look too serious, while the girls are narrowing their eyes at the ‘annoying customer’ in front of them.

“Your employees burnt my soup.” He gives the trio a faked hard look, making each of the girls snort. “I never thought soup could get so clumpy, love— Ms manager.” With a calculated cough, he corrects himself to continue the bit.

“That's all?” You raise a brow, and you can see the three girls in your peripheral copy your expression one by one. Hobie tamps down a laugh.

“‘That’s all?’” Hobie bounces Max in his hold, the baby blows snot bubbles in return. “My mate and I came all the way from Wales to try your world famous soup and what do we get? A clump of soup that looks like oatmeal!”

You nod like you're actually a manager hearing complaints. “Can I see the soup, girls?”

“Wha–mum!” Mona protests.

“I just want to see it, Cheese—I mean Ms Brown.” You put your hands on your hips, acting but you still want to keep your girls on their toes. You still remember the last time they made ‘soup,’ their play kitchen set smelled of your lavender lotion for weeks.

Charlotte can't help but giggle at that. “She called you ‘Ms Brown!’”

“That's our last name, Char.” Billie says, handing you the bowl of ‘soup.’ The soup is actually a bunch of ripped paper soaking in water.

“Oh! I thought it was punk.”

“Punk?” Hobie breaks character as you ‘inspect’ the bowl of so-called soup. Before he could elaborate on his question, you poke the ‘soup.’

“Yeah, I don't see the problem.”

“I told you!” Billie cackles while her sister claps slowly. You blame all the movie nights where it's Hobie's turn to pick. Charlotte giggles, taking the bowl to place it in front of Hobie.

He looks at you with a soft smile, winking briefly at you, foot nudging your own. “‘m not paying for clumpy soup.” Taking Max in his hold, he happily reaches out to you, kicking about on his tiny legs and feet. “And neither is my mate! We're takin’ our money somewhere else!”

The twins have reached their role play limit, guffawing at their dad's ‘angry’ words, Max's expression makes them break. While Charlotte is in hysterics on the floor.

You coo at Max, grabbing him and taking him into your arms. The baby smiles, making grabby hands at the silver necklace Hobie gifted to you just after the girls were born. “Well, your friend here doesn't look like he wants to leave.”

Hobie lounges on the floor, arm propping him up, cheek pressed atop his shoulder. He sighs dramatically, giving each girl a defeated look. “I never thought I'd be betrayed by an eight month old.” Billie laughs on the floor while Mona has managed to latch onto you, hiding her giggles against your bicep. “I don't blame him, he has taste.”

You playfully kick Hobie, earning a genuine smile from him. “If our soup is not up to par with your tastes, maybe our cookies will.”

Mona gasps next to you, Billie and Charlotte rise up from the floor, eyes wide and sparkling. “Cookies!” They all exclaim at the same time, tones excited and high.

“Chocolate chip?” Mona asks, shaking you slightly. Max sits on your lap unbothered, eating his own fingers.

“Of course, Mon-mon.” And with that, they're off scampering towards the kitchen.

“Your employees have no manners.” Hobie stands up before lending you a hand. He effortlessly yanks you up carefully, Max lays in your arms, looking up between your face and Hobie's.

“Maybe I should cut their pay.” You joke.

“The union won't like that, love.” Hobie presses his lips on your temple, letting his warmth linger on you.

“I guess the fine wouldn't be worth it.” You chuckle, sighing by his side. Gazing at Max, you bounce him gently, earning a three toothed smile from him. “He's so cute,” index brushing along his chubby cheek, baby Max grabs your finger, hugging it to his side. “Aww look at him.”

“You want one?” A smirk slowly curls around Hobie's lips, hand cupping your elbow as he leads you into the kitchen where the girls are patiently watching over the cooled tray.

“Careful, you said that when we babysat Mayday before we had the girls.”

“You said yes though.” With a smug laugh, he pecks your forehead one more time before helping the girls with their snacks.

73 notes · View notes

simp4konig · 1 year

Text

"Can I sit here?" König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3060

*Part one?

*Slow burn?

*Strangers to Friends (to Lovers?)

Not decidedany of those yet 😶

Edited on 23/8/2023 for some grammar tweaks.

*!!Fanfic inspired by @theeggrollslord's drawing on Twitter!! I really wanted to use their art as the cover for this fanfic, but due to me not having an Twitter (or X 🤮) account, and not knowing whether the original artist consents to people reposting their art, I held back. 😿 If anyone knows whether they are able to give me permission or are cool with it, please let me know!! ☺️

*Author has played MW1 + 2... but not the newest reimagines. 😭 all I remember from the campaign is that Shepherd shot Ghost in the face,but in NO way did he look as fine as he does now ☠️☠️

*Author does NOT speak German... but can use Google Translate !!😊

As is customary with all foreigners, English is not my first language!. Pls do not bully me if my grammar is bad i will cry 😢

König sat by himself in the cafeteria.

Three sausages, a spoonful of beans, and two eggs alongside a 500ml water bottle were all that consisted of his daily breakfast. Hash browns would be served raw, and the bagels were solid enough to break teeth when bitten into. He didn't even want to consider the sandwiches, as their stale, stinking cheese and slick ham made him gag. A pity that they didn't serve Bratwurst or order authentic — hell, even half-decent — eggs, as the meat in his sausages tasted out of date and the yolks were a dull yellow. The beans weren't even Heinz.

Looking at the cheap slop on his tray made him lose his appetite. At least the water was drinkable, but its taste was peculiar at best.

König sighed.

Every day "eating" the same breakfast, sitting in the same spot, at the same time.

To say that he enjoyed the routine of the barracks would be an overstatement, as he felt oppressed by the monotony: rigorous and thorough briefings pre-missions; intense training three times a day; shooting drills and target practice right after the sun barely opened its eye or into late hours of the evening when it was hard to see. Yet he couldn't complain, and forced himself to appreciate the predictable structure of the barracks.

After all, routine meant safety.

Knowing the details of the misson and the intel required guaranteed a flawless operation. Knowing how exactly to eliminate an opponent in any given situation meant that it made the job even easier. Knowing when to dive for cover to avoid a rain of bullets and the rumbling thunder of machine guns in an active shootout equalled survival.

And knowing that you intimidated everyone on base at least made social interactions easier. All of these extended his life expectancy, yet by how much was anyone's guess.

Being a 6'10 wall of a pure muscle made him the perfect human bulldozer, and paired with his animalistic instincts taking over while on the battlefield, he struck fear in even his own teammates.

Most of the time, König didn't even need to use a gun, as he could snap an enemy's neck faster than they could blink; and, even if they could do that, they wouldn't be able to react fast enough as he manhandled their body like a rag doll and snapped their spine in half over his knee. Quick and easy kills. Other times, frantic stabs in the abdomen, chest or neck finished with a harsh cut of the throat sufficed when sneaking, and allowed him to release any pent of frustration he felt that he wouldn't have been able to relieve through strangulation alone.

Yet, all of the time, seeing König's brutality first-hand made his teammates lose their balance and struggle to collect themselves during the mission, fearing that he would turn to indiscriminately killing anyone that had the misfortune of entering his field of vision. Compared to König's animalistic instincts taking over in an active firefight and causing bloodshed, his allies putting down enemies with a bullet to the head seemed merciful, and even kind.

Unlike friendships, killing people was easy. Keeping good relations with people was difficult enough for König to begin with — with his first hurdle being his social anxiety, and the hurdle of others being getting used to his frightening exterior — and it grew more and more into a challenge as he moved up the ranks, until his position as Colonel made him feared, not respected. People avoided his eyes, and kept conversations to a minimum, bowing their heads in fear, not respect.

After witnessing him maul enemies like a feral animal, König walking down the barracks had people scuttling away like rats in opposite directions, a horde of people dissipating in an instant. Crowded rooms with rowdy laughter suddenly were brought to silence once he made the mistake of entering, with people speaking in hushed whispers or not even speaking at all, opting to escape before their colonel addressed them.

Truth of the matter was, König never wanted to be a colonel. He'd had rather been the one receiving orders than the one making them, as his social anxiety in front of innumerable pairs of expectant eyes put pressure on him in the moment and made it near impossible to let a single word out.

He was not a natural born leader: he knew it, everyone knew it; but he kept his position solely due to his ruthlessness in action and his cold efficiency, as there was no one like him that could come close to imitating his behaviour.

Then, to say that he enjoyed the daily routine of life in the barracks was a stretch to say the least. The thrill of killing on missions and the primal adrenaline that took over his veins and clouded his senses could not be more of a contrast to this boredom and overwhelming isolation on base: of every day sitting in the same damned spot; of every day pretending to eat the same damned food; and, of every damned day being avoided by the other operators to be at a peace he was forced to accept, whether he liked it or not. What a miserable life to live.

The beans on his plate looked menacing, and he had the urge to crush each one individually until they'd stop sneering at him so, as being judged by off-brand beans was running his patience thin. Yet, he wouldn't do that, as everyone else would view him as not only a brute but a mentally unstable lunatic who was now using food scraps as an outlet for his temper; so, he resorted to just picking at the rations instead. His head was in his palm, and his gaze went elsewhere, his pale blue eyes drooping.

So engrossed in absentmindly pushing the beans on his tray with his fork and contemplating what went wrong with him that he did not hear the footsteps walking towards him.

You cleared your throat. "E-excuse me, sir, but can I sit here?"

König looked up, and saw a young recruit hovering over him with a small brown paper bag in their hands. Your face was one he hadn't seen before around here, and you weren't in the standard military uniform, so he assumed that you were perhaps a groundsperson of sorts.

Your ignorance of him was probably the only reason you dared approach him, as any other person would have avoided his table at all costs and gotten whiplash from how quickly they'd turn their head the other way. However, he was glad that he didn't intimidate everyone that encountered him, and was internally thanking you for giving him a chance. Some hope.

Feeling uncomfortable under his scrutinising stare, you tugged the collar of your t-shirt and struggle for words.

"S-sorry," you begun, sheepishly looking down at the floor. A rub of the neck and a shuffling of feet. "It's just... all of the other tables are crowded, and I don't know anyone here well. And yours—" You looked at him, shooting him a lopsided grin, "—yours is empty."

"I understand," he stated, before looking back down at the mush on his tray. "Not a problem."

You gulped, feeling like he was dismissing you, and beginning to regret approaching him. "Are you sure, sir? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Look at you, he thought, so thoughtful over his feelings. When was the last time anyone bothered to ask him how he felt, or treated him like a human being?

"Ja. I am sure."

Still standing, unsure as to how to interpret the tone of his statement, you shot him a shy smile and sat down at a reasonable distance from the man, beginning to unpack the contents of your bag.

König kept stealing glances of you from under his eyebrows, trying to be discreet. Although he actually was uncomfortable — not used to company in the slightest, especially with someone so polite and courteous — he was oddly drawn to you.

He was thankful that you were oblivious to his status around these parts, and he wanted to leave a decent first impression on you before you finally overheard the true rumours about him, and paid attention to how quiet the cafeteria had gotten now that you two were sat together.

The thing was, he didn't know where to begin.

Communication was not his strong suit. He mused over potential ways of starting a conversation, yet not only had he never been faced with a situation like this, the language barrier was ever so present. Perhaps if he could speak to you in German he'd be able to formulate his thoughts better, yet at the moment it felt like all his knowledge of English seemingly evaporated in an instant.

"You prepared well your breakfast," he stated plainly, angling for any kind of small talk. He internally cringed at the order of those words and how wrong that sentence sounded in his voice, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

An awkward smile. "—W-wow. Thank you, sir!"

König felt his chest tighten, but he didn't know why.

"My first day on base I had the misfortune of being served breakfast," you continued, "so, from then on I decided right then and there "never again". The food��" you laughed weakly, "—sure is something."

"Du hast recht," agreed König. "I mean... You are right. If I had a dog, I never would feed it this— these... scraps."

You could sense König hungrily devouring your food with his eyes. Although he tried to be subtle, he was not good at going unnoticed. Really, stealing glances of this behemonth in front of you, you kind of pitied the man, especially when the next edible meal would be in precisely 5 hours. With his breakfast beaten and bruised into an unrecognisable pulp, it was definitely too late for him to consume.

Mourning your sandwiches, you silently bid them farewell and took a deep breath:

"Well, sir. I would assume that you're hungry." You took out the contents from your bag and slid them in front of him, smiling meekly. "You can have my breakfast."

He looked down at your two sandwiches and his eyes visibly widened under his hood; four thick slices of sourdough bread, a generous slather of butter, cheese, rocket lettuce, and thinly sliced pieces of meat, topped with tomatoes, and most likely seasoned with spring onion and pepper.

They looked so appetising, and he felt his mouth salivate, yet he shook his head vehemently. "Nein! Ich sollte das nicht tun, nicht, wenn du dich so sehr bemüht hast!"

You tilted your head in confusion. König mentally facepalmed.

"I-I mean... you tried very hard, and it isn't right of me. They are yours."

You waved a dismissive hand. "Honestly, you need them more than me. Have them."

"Einer wird ausreichen," He shook his head again, and picked up one slowly. "One will be enough."

He reached over to take one and you looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting for him to take a bite and give you his thoughts, yet it hit you. He was wearing his mask. He probably wouldn't eat in front of you.

A cough. "S-sorry. I'll look away while you eat it. Tell me what you think about it."

König practically shoved the entire thing in his mouth the moment your back faced him and and started choking. He saw you turning back to assist, but he raised a weak hand to stop you.

Getting over his coughing fit, he could finally appreciate the freshness and the flavour of the sandwich. It tasted of... nostalgia. Like the sandwiches his Mama would make for him after school to reassure him and to take his mind off the day's events. He felt like a young boy again. When he closed his eyes, for a split-second he imagined he was in the kitchen with his mother chatting energetically, taking his plate and ruffling his hair when he had finished and feeding him another, insisting that he "was a growing boy".

"So köstlich..." he said, and was disappointed to see that the sandwich was gone from his hands, already eaten. "Mein gott, that was perfekt. A sandwich of the Gods."

You turned around and you were beaming so brightly that König swore he would need to shield his eyes from the sight.

"Thank you so much! You don't know how happy that makes me."

You looked at him, your smile unwavering. "Do you know what would make me happier?"

He gave you a blank look. "...No?"

"If you ate the other one," you said, and König's eyes widened comically. "Though, please, be careful. Sandwiches can sure be a choking hazard," you dared tease him, and was actually surprised when he let out a quiet chuckle.

After savouring his second sandwich, the two of you were quiet. Although the tension had evaporated, the silence was deafening, and you felt suffocated by the lack of conversation.

"Uhm... Sir. What is your name?" A hesitant start, your hands folded neatly in your lap. "If it isn't too much of a personal question, of course."

He deliberated for a few moments, before responding with a quiet "König."

"König," you repeated, making sure to pronounce it properly. Your eyes widened in realisation, and you smiled broadly. "That's King, in German, right? That's so funny, because I go by King!"

König froze up like a statue.

"Holy fucking shit, what are the chances?" You rambled, not realising how quiet König had become. "Honestly, what are we doing here? Where are our castles, our riches? Our chariots led by silver horses and our toilets made of 24 carat gold?"

König shrugged stiffly. "Blown up by a grenade, I suppose."

You looked at him, dumbfounded, then burst into laughter. Like, fits of giggles, too many of them and too strong for his unbelievably dry response. Maybe that's why you were laughing so hard.

Either way, König couldn't believe it at first.

It was so... beautiful. Almost angelic in a way, despite you holding yourself up with a palm on the table and unable to contain your pig-like snorts. He could get used to hearing you laugh more often.

And, just like that, he dropped his guard. Slowly, all of his stiffness melted, and he became more of his confident self, this trait only ever coming out when he was actively shooting.

The two of you spent the entire length of breakfast chatting, joking, and telling each other things about each other. Although König insisted that his English wasn't good, you assured him that you understood him just fine — if anything, his confused looks and furrowed eyebrows at idioms you used were adorably endearing, each time earning a sympathetic giggle from you.

At some point — and though he would've been ashamed to admit it — he tuned out the babbling that came out of your mouth as he admired your face, noting all of your features: the colour of your eyes and how they'd crinkle in happiness whenever you smiled; the way your hair flowed and framed your face; taking the time to count all of the freckles on your nose and committing the number to memory.

He'd only catch himself staring when you'd suddenly finish talking. "But what do I know, I'm kind of stupid if you ask me. It's a wonder I passed the tests to qualify for this job in the first place."

You locked eyes with him, interested in hearing what he had to say. "What do you think, König? I bet you know the answer!"

To which he'd quickly clear his throat and respond with, "Ich weiß nicht. I don't know. To be... frank, though that is strange for me to say when I am not "Frank"—"

You struggled to struggle to contain your laughter, and quickly apologized as soon as you stopped shaking, before attempting to explain to this clueless Austrian man why it was used. König didn't feel demeaned by your explanation, though, as he thought that his blunders would be worth it every time if it meant hearing you laugh so sweetly.

To König's dismay, half an hour flew by in minutes, and it was time to part ways as you began your daily duties.

As the two of you stood up, you initially had realised that König was taller than the average man based off how his knees could barely fit under the table.

You sure as fuck did not expect to see this.

He towered over you, casting a shadow down below. You had to strain your neck to make eye contact with him, and a painful cramp was already forming.

"Ha—ha.... you're pretty, uh... big."

That statement had more than one connotation. Gott sei Dank für diese Maske, he thought. Thank God for this mask, otherwise you would have seen the blush from his neck up to his ears after his mind went to a place he hadn't thought it'd go, especially not with a person he had formally met not even an hour ago.

"Oh well, I can finally put those 4-inch combat boots in the bottom of my closet to good use," you laughed, playfully nudging what meant to be his shoulder but your height difference meant that you instead touched his pec. Not that you minded though.

With your arms behind your back, you shyly averted your gaze. "Well... It was nice to meet you, König."

"You too... King."

Furrowing of brows as you tilted your head. "How do you say it in German? "Auf Wiedersehen"?"

"Ja, das ist es."

"Well then, Auf Wiedersehen, big guy. I'll see you around!"

Big guy... In more ways than one...

God. König had to get a grip.

Yet, with the way he was looking at your backside and fantasizing about your next meeting, he already knew that not even Gott could help him.

...

Note: I HATE this fucking fanfiction WITH MY SOUL 🤬🤬. This fucking thing was NEARLY FINISHED and I was in the process of tweaking yet my phone decided to erase half of my progress !!!! 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

My phone 📵 and God 🤬 didn't want this fanfiction getting published yet guess what!!! 🖕🖕🖕🖕Fuck you!!!🖕🖕🖕 Ive gotten it out anyways🗣️ fucking shaved a decade off of my life trying to recovervthe opening part of this fic,,

,,,,literally why did I get punished for writing a very mild and unextreme fanfic 😭😭😭😭 like the first half was just in Königs perspective and Ur telling me that i can't do that?????

I mf get fucking crucified like Jesus on the cross, only this time I sarcificed my sleep and sanity to not be ressurected again,, bitch I would have rather died if I had known tjis would happen ☠️☠️ I could have actually SLEPT?!! 🤬🛌

Never again writing fanfictiosn on my phone, I can't trust this evil technology!! I'm gonna draft them with PEN and PAPER bitch!!!! Typewriter!!!!!!!! Chalk On Pavement™!!!!!!!!!!!! PERMANENT MARKER ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...

If you read this rant of mine, I hope you have a lovely day/night, beautiful person. <33 (please wash your eyes after reading that,,I needed to release my anger somrjow don't judge me hhhhhhhHHHH—)

409 notes · View notes

hanniebaeee · 2 months

Text

A Love Like This

Brother's Best Friend Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, suggestive content MDNI

Genre: friends to lovers, fluff

Summary: Felix was your step brother Jisung's best friend and you've known each other since childhood. And you've loved each other since then too.

You glance at Felix from where you sat, at the other end of the room. He was engaged in a conversation with your stepbrother Jisung, laughing at something he was saying. He was just so beautiful and so sweet, you couldn't help but smile.

You've known Felix right from the time you and your mum had moved to Jisung's place, while you were still a child. He had seen all your ups and downs, and being Jisung's closest friend, he was a constant presence in your life.

Felix had always been around, joining your family in literally everything - family dinners, vacations, and countless game nights. Every time he was around, your heart fluttered helplessly. He made you feel some kinda way, even without doing anything.

At first you didn't think much of it. You blamed it on your teenage hormones. But now, even after all these years, he had the same effect on you. And no other man could ever do it.

Sighing, you look back to your phone, completely missing the way Felix gazes at you, his eyes filled with so much love and longing.

One evening, while Jisung and Felix were hanging out in the pool, you brought out a tray of freshly baked brownies and cold lemonade. Felix's eyes lit up as he saw you, and it made your poor heart flutter, yet again.

Placing the tray on the little picnic bench in your backyard, you said, 'I tried your brownie recipe, Felix. I think they came out well.'

Felix was out of the pool in a flash, and you try to not gulp as you see the water drip down his perfect body. He drapes a towel around his shoulders and smiles at you. Picking up a brownie, he takes a bite and his smile is even bigger now.

'You did it better than me!' He said, making you laugh.

'Really?' Jisung was out too, making his way over to you.

'I don't think so. Don't take it as a chance to escape your brownie making responsibilities, Lee Felix.' You joke, in a desperate hope that you weren't blushing.

Felix just gives you a soft look as he takes another bite.

'Anything for you, Y/N.' He mumbled and you stare at him, stunned. You both are still staring at each other, when Jisung moans loudly.

'You actually did a good job, Y/N.' He said, ruffling your hair lovingly.

You hand them their drinks and your fingers brush Felix's, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You step back, not wanting Jisung to pick up on the fact that you were literally drooling over his best friend. With a quick 'alright then', you bolt for the house.

'Thanks, Y/N,' Felix calls out in that deep voice of his, and you just wanted to die.

Most of the time, you were sure that it wasn't just you. Like come on, the man was ogling at you and licking his lips like you were a fucking brownie. But that little part of you always told you that he was way too perfect for someone like you. He was way too beautiful and just too nice.

Anyway none of these intrusive thoughts could stop you two from stealing glances and sharing secret smiles. But neither of you made any effort to do anything more. Mostly because your relationship with Jisung was very important to you and you were afraid of how he would take this.

One afternoon, you were just home after an outing with your friends, and you were starving. So you decide to make something to eat. Walking to the kitchen, barefoot, you could hear the little charm on your anklet tingle as you walked. So did Felix, who turned to look.

You didn't understand what it did to him. He swallows, his adams apple bobbing as he did, his eyes dropping to your legs and then at the said anklet. He loved it. It made him borderline feral for you. If only you knew.

You say hi like you didn't just kill him, and smile as you find him attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich. It didn't look too good, though.

'Need some help?' You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

Felix just looked relieved.

'Please' he said, giving you a sheepish grin. 'I think I'm burning it'.

You laugh and move closer, taking over.

'This is how you do it, Bokki.' You say, and Felix smiles softly at how good his nickname sounded coming from you.

The two of you stand side by side, shoulders brushing. Felix didn't step away, and so you didn't either. You heart was racing and your hands were trembling with the way your body reacted to his presence. So close to you.

You buttered the bread and placed it in the pan, giving Felix little instructions. When the sandwich was golden brown and perfectly made, you place them on plates and take it to the table.

Again, he pulls his chair so close to yours, your knees are touching under the table. You both just share a look before you push a plate towards him.

'Try it.' You say, smiling nervously.

He takes a bite and grins, saying, 'It's perfect, as usual.'

'Shut up.' You laugh, pushing him away.

You wander back to your room after lunch and drop on your bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Later that evening, when you realize you've overslept, you sit up, hoping that Jisung would have brought some dinner.

You waddle into the living room sleepily to see Felix working on his laptop. Jisung was nowhere to be found. So you ask Felix if he was home yet.

'He called to say that he'll late.' Felix informed you as you sit near him. 'I ordered dinner, I hope you don't mind tteokbokki.'

'That's ok, thanks, Bokki.' You say, smiling.

Once food was delivered, and you both have your plates in hand, Felix puts on a movie. You weren't really paying any attention to the movie. You were just more focused on controlling your urge to look at him. You sat on opposite ends of the sofa and the air seemed to be thick with a lot of unspoken things.

Once your plates were empty, you pick them up and walk to the kitchen. You sigh, feeling stupid for constantly floating in this space where you just couldn't confess to him when it was the only thing you could think of. You hear his footsteps approaching you as you load the dishwasher.

'Y/N?' He said, and you look up. 'Can we talk?'

'Sure.' You said with a nod and watch him struggle with himself for a moment before he looks at you.

'I... I think I'm in love with you,' he confessed, his eyes filled with sincerity and a hint of fear. 'I have, for years now. I am terrified, but I can't keep quiet anymore. You make me feel a lot of things and it's getting harder and harder to just contain myself.'

You just stared at him like you were making sure he was really standing in front of you and confessing.

'Jisung is not just a friend to me, Y/N, he's like a brother. And I know this could make things difficult, but I can't help it. It's ok if you don't-'

Your heart soared and threatened to stop all together.

'Felix.' You say, making him stop. 'I love you too. I think you already know that.'

Your voice is just a whisper and it's thick with emotions. Felix looks at you for a second before smiling - such a bright and beautiful smile, you just wanted to kiss him. You knew that this was it. There was no turning back.

Felix takes quick steps towards you, pulling you into his arms. Your lips meeting in a sweet tender kiss. Your arms go around his neck, kissing him back. The world outside seemed to fade away, and it was just you two, sharing the most beautiful kiss in the world.

As wonderful as it was, you've never taken so much stress in your entire life. Till you two mustered the courage to talk to Jisung, this relationship had to be a secret. You hated lying to or keeping secrets from Jisung, but you've wanted Felix for so long, you couldn't risk it. You and Felix found yourselves sneaking around a lot, stealing kisses early the morning or late at night, and holding hands under the table while you ate - just hoping that Jisung wouldn't notice.

It had been almost a week since you last got to spend anytime with Felix since Jisung was working on a project and he rarely left the house. And since Felix worked with him, he too had to be with Jisung. You missed your boyfriend way too much and it made you so sad, that Felix asked you to meet him at your favorite cafe after work.

It had been raining all noon and you were relieved to step into the warm cafe. The aroma of coffee and baked goods filled the air and it enveloped you in a comforting hug. You find Felix in a cozy corner of a cafe and join him. He wastes no time, pulling you into a kiss. He couldn't stop kissing you, and even when you sat eating a slice of chocolate cake and sipping hot cocoa, his hand remained on your thigh, squeezing possessively.

'I missed you, baby.' He mumbled, pressing a kiss to the crook of your neck.

'I missed you too, Bokki. I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want.' You pout, only to have him slip a hand around your waist and pull you closer, if that was even possible, since you were almost on his lap at this point of time.

He brushes a crumb from your lower lip with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you. Again.

'Don't worry, ok? We'll figure it out.' He said softly and you nod, sighing as you felt his lips on the spot under you ear.

Most of your secret dates were like this. So full of simple joys and tender moments. If Felix was really in the mood, he would cling to you like a koala and no matter what you have planned for the day, you just had to let go of them. He would let you do absolutely nothing. Other than kissing him and babying him. Each time you parted, it grew harder to say goodbye. Mostly because you didn't know how long you would have to wait to get him for yourself again.

It came to a point where hiding was not really easy. You were worried that Jisung would start to get suspicious now. And you couldn't blame him, when you and Felix were horny all the time.

You would be standing in the kitchen with your brother, as he complaining about how you always got a recipe right, and he always messed it up. And Felix would give Jisung a look of sympathy while his hand would be wandering, grabbing your butt gently. Or not so gently. Keeping such an innocent face.

Or Jisung would be yelling for you from somewhere in the house, and on your way to him, Felix would just grab you, pushing you against the wall and pressing a finger to your lips to keep you quiet. Your eyes would be wide in fear, but his smile would ease you, letting him kiss you.

Sometimes, he would just sit on your bed late in the night, running his hand over your thigh, giving you a look so full of love.

'Baby, I don't want to hide us forever. I want to be with you, openly.' He said, and you nod, tears welling up in your eyes.

'We'll tell him together,' Felix said, squeezing your hand reassuringly. 'Jisung will understand.'

You nod again and Felix smiles. He kissed you and promised you that no matter what happens, you would face it together.

'You'll never be alone. I'll never let you be. You'll always have me and we'll face everything together.' He whispered and you hug him aa tight as you could.

It was terrifying, to walk up to your brother, hand in hand. It was even more terrifying to tell him that you were in love. But you knew deep down that you and Felix were meant to be.

Bonus: Jisung gives you that Deadpool style look of shock with both his hands on his cheeks. Then scolds you for sneaking around him before crying and telling you both that he's happy for you and that he's glad that he didn't have to deal with any new partners, to be honest. And absolutely forbid you from any PDA. Haha, he's too sweet.

#skz felix x reader #felix x you #felix x y/n #felix x reader #felix fluff #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz han #skz #stray kids #skz stay #lee felix #felix #felix yongbok #lee yongbok

76 notes · View notes