Red Menace X Reader (Bake Sale) PT. 2
“Perfect, perfect, everything has to be perfect…”
Red paced back and forth in the lair restlessly, Voltar, Doktor Frogg, and Doomageddon on standby in ridiculously short, frilly, and color coded maid outfits.
“I’ve already cleaned the living room five times over,” Frogg trembled as he clutched the long hose of the vacuum in his metal claws.
“And I’ve already scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom,” Voltar deadpanned, still tugging at the short skirt to try and shield his little villain from the elements. The only reason the little red leader hadn’t objected to this was out of fear, which was rare for him. Red Menace never really asked for much, and often tended to his duties gleefully and thanklessly… But when he was serious about something he was serious, so unless Voltar wanted to risk an S-tier level tantrum he was going to scrub the grout out of the damn linoleum!
“Already bleached the countertop, dusted the TV console, cleaned up Doomie’s messes, polished Voltar’s trophies… Oh no, I forgot to organize the DVD collection in alphabetical order!” Red bunched up tufts of his short ginger hair with his fists, shaking his head repeatedly. Before he could race to get it done, there was a knock on the door.
As Red was dragging his fingers down his face dramatically the other three zipped into the corner of the room, stacking atop one another while shaking.
With the way Red talked about you they thought they were in for a terrifying visitor. Why else would the house need to be so clean, and why else would your presence be so feared?
Frogg was conjuring up images of a fearsome warlord in his mind, one that would chop all their heads off if his needs weren’t met. Voltar thought it was Prima Dana or someone of equal status, one that he really wanted to impress. And Doomie? Well, he wasn't sure, but the look Red gave him when he was attempting to eat some of the cookie ingredients was still burned into the back of his mind and he did NOT want to see that same look again.
What really awaited them on the other side of the door was none other than…
It was your day off so you dressed a little more stylishly than usual, especially because of the occasion. You almost wondered if it was a bad idea given the nature of baking, it being so messy and all, but at the same time you still wanted to look cute for a certain menace.
For him, everything was in slow motion, but for you, the door opened less than a second after you rang the doorbell.
“Y/N, welcome~! Come in, come in,” He placed a gentle hand on your upper back and guided you inside, giving your shoulder a few pats on the way.
“Oh, uh, hi Red. Nice… Apron..?” You quirked a brow at his unusual attire, a frilly apron adorning his ill-fitted maid attire. Maybe he was really into cosplay..?
Ah, whatever. You weren’t one to judge.
“Aww shucks, I’ve had it in the closet for a while,” He chuckled softly, seeming a little flushed. He’d planned to change out of it once he was done cleaning but it looks like it was a bit late for that (much to his chagrin).
“Oh, uh, hope you don’t mind but I bought some extra ingredients in case you were short on anything,” You held up a Mall-o-Mart bag full of baking-related goodies, making the most of your employee discount. His eyes seemed to light up through his mask at your generosity, he can’t remember the last time someone else got groceries for him instead of doing the shopping on their behalf…
“Thank you,” His fingers brushed yours as he took the bag from your hands.
“Um… Red?” Voltar finally piped up, slowly placing Doktor Frogg back on the floor. “This is the guest of honor, right?”
Red’s head swiveled in his direction, an all-too-perfect smile etched onto his face. “Sure is, Voltar!” Although it sounded nice you could tell there was a, well, menacing undertone to his words. There was a warning laced in his response, keeping Voltar in check without having to say anything more, and Voltar adjusted accordingly.
“Well of coooouuursee, it’s nice to meet you um, whatever your name is,” He waddled up to you and offered his hand, but not to shake. He was offering it like a king would, expecting you to adorn his nonexistent rings with kisses. You decided to shake his hand anyway despite this, quirking a soft smile. “As you already know, I am the great Voltar! Leader of the League of Super Evil and all that.”
“Oh yeah, you’re the guy who put that weird green stuff on the shopping carts last week, right?” You tried to bring it up casually even though it did piss you off a bit, seeing as how it was your responsibility to clean it up after hours.
“Oh, so you’ve been a victim to one of my evil schemes, eh? Well, don’t take it personally, just doin’ my job,” He seemed all too prideful at the fact you remembered him, and his attitude improved upon seeing you visibly annoyed. What a weirdo.
You glanced up and locked eyes with the tall, scraggly haired fellow standing at a distance. He visibly flinched when you met his gaze, offering a nervous smile and obligatory chuckle upon being acknowledged. “Uh, hi,” He slowly placed the vacuum cleaner tube on the ground as you approached, waiting for you to extend your hand before he hesitantly took it with his cold, clammy claws. He was careful not to squeeze yours too hard, scared that his cybernetic enhancements might overpower your weak flesh.
“I-I’m the mad scientist of the house. I’m Doktor Frogg, but… Usually just Frogg,” He shrugged, glancing at the doomhound by his side sporadically as he talked to you. “I’m Y/N. No title, just me,” You tried to calm his nerves with a bit of humor but he was still very distracted by the… Dog… Thing next to him.
Frogg’s eyes kept shifting toward it so you finally looked down and noticed the pan-dimensional hellhound staring right at you, licking its lips mischievously. Its spiked tail wagged and he offered you a toothy grin, and whether or not it was trying to be polite or was considering your nutritional value remained to be seen.
“That’s Doomageddon, our doomhound,” Frogg reluctantly introduced the pet, flinching once more when it returned its attention to him. “He likes to play… A lot… With me specifically,” He didn’t sound too happy with the arrangement but what could you do?
You hadn’t much time to linger on introductions, Red had an itinerary for today and he was going to make sure it was followed. “So, Y/N, now that you’ve met my folks we can start heading toward the kitchen,” He kicked his heels off before rounding the corner into said kitchen, followed by the sound of him setting up the groceries you bought.
You shook your head and followed him, kicking your sneakers off at around the same place he left his shoes. You gave one last look back to the rest of the group, giving a curt nod before leaving the room and letting them all breathe a sigh of relief. “Finally, I can take this stupid dress off,” Voltar groaned. “I-I dunno,” Frogg looked down and stretched the skirt out a bit. “I kinda like it?”
As you entered the humble kitchen of the lair, it was a lot cleaner than you expected. It must’ve been recent if you could still smell the fresh Fabuloso clinging to the air, hinting that it was likely in a much different state before you arrived.
Red was by a countertop separating the ingredients, wet in one section, dry in another, and a few different bowls prepped between each.
You tried to be respectful of where your line of sight happened to fall, so perhaps instead of ogling his dreadfully tiny dress you should wash your hands— to prep for the baking of course.
You scrubbed them rigorously to try and distract yourself from the unholy thoughts occupying your mind, hoping that if the soap could clean your hands it could clean your soul too.
You could hear his lofty footsteps behind you as he took off his gloves, but his presence didn’t shift last minute to settle beside you, no no.
As he placed his gloves behind the sink the swell of his belly pressed flush against your back, using the same soap and water to wash his hands alongside yours.
He damn near knocked the wind out of you the way he had you pitted between himself and the counter, your spine popping faintly to give way to his weight.
He went on as though it was a normal thing to do, humming and scrubbing and making sure to weave his fingers between yours to clean them even more. His chunkier ones massaged into the back of your palm, and it did feel good, TOO good even because you were starting to lose your train of thought. He was in fact talking to you at this moment but you couldn’t understand a word he was saying, nor did you really care to. It all sounded mumbled together as your mouth watered instinctively, your joints popped under his grip, and the smell of the artificial lilac soap tingled the back of your nostrils. It was the cheap stuff, you could tell.
Hearing your name finally snapped you out of whatever trance he had put you in. Although time had slowed in that moment it didn’t last (sadly), and left your whole body feeling cold when he separated himself from you.
“Oh, uh, yeah?” You blinked hard a couple of times, still standing there unable to face him.
“Didja want dark chocolate or milk chocolate?” He rattled both bags around as he posed the question, awaiting your answer before preparations began like a good little maid.
“B-Both, both is good,” You shook your head, still not entirely recovered from what just happened. “Okie dokie, we’ll just make two batches then,” He smiled and turned around, putting each bag in the fridge for now.
You did your best to keep up a nonchalant act once you finally managed to face him, and he obliviously handed you a whisk and a bowl of your own.
“I’ll let you stir the dry ingredients first, it’s a little easier than the wet stuff,” He propped open Mama Menace’s recipe book on the counter nearby and started listing off ingredients and measurements for the cookie dough. There were a lot of unconventional secret ingredients used in the old country. You had no idea what Bandango extract was or how it was harvested, but it was going in with the wet ingredients anyway.
“And of course the most important ingredient is love,” He hugged his bowl close to his chest, swaying back and forth as he did so. He eventually stopped and then waited for you to do the same, and ultimately you did despite the childishness of it all. “That’s the spirit!” You were still burning up from having his body all up on yours so having to do silly things like this only embarrassed you further.
It was remarkable. The way he could do things to get you going without even trying, and then switch right back to innocence immediately after. Was he really that dense, or was he really as big of a menace as his name implied?
As the two of you continued stirring and whipping and all the joys that came with baking, it was starting to dawn on you that the man had virtually no concept of personal space. When helping you mix he, instead of taking the bowl from you, would simply grab your hand with his and keep stirring. When you needed to see the recipe again he’d lean over you with the book in hand, and when he’d lick the spoon he’d shove it in your face to offer you a taste. Maybe it was the neurodivergence…
“Perfect! Now, all we need is one last finishing touch,” He held the entirety of the milk chocolate chip dough in his hands, a testament to their giantness, and you still had the dark chocolate batch in your bowl. He inspected it closely, one eye bugging out of his mask to make sure it was up to snuff… And then he gave it a smooch. “Extra kisses!”
You would’ve facepalmed if you didn’t have so much cookie dough residue on your hands.
Something told you he was gonna be sad if you didn’t do this one last thing for him, so begrudgingly you placed a tiny peck atop the surface of your batch, licking your lips right after. Wow…
Just like the one you had yesterday but, y’know, raw!
That Bandango extract was really doing some heavy lifting.
The oven light turned off to finally signal that it was fully preheated, so the two of you got to work on balling up the dough.
“So, what’s the custody arrangement on these bad boys? You saving some for the next bake sale?” You asked as you rotated your palms to try and get yours perfectly round.
“Maybe, if I can keep myself from eating them all… Or, I guess, keep Voltar and Doktor Frogg from eating them all. Doomie really likes these too, chocolate is actually very good for doomhounds,” He glanced over at you trying to make them nice and neat, his smile softening. His were just abstract clumps, since they’d bake the same anyway.
“Huh… Weird,” You shrugged, noticing the doomhound in question peering around the corner while licking his chops. “What about you? Gonna keep ‘em all to yourself or share?”
“Probably keep it to myself,” You admitted sheepishly, even though you knew he was a sharing-type. “They’re just too delicious, plus I won't have to worry about spending crazy amounts of money on café desserts or sweet treats, at least for a little while. Do you know how much a latte costs these days?”
He chuckled and nudged your shoulder with his (almost knocking you over).
“Well, hey, I make a mean brew so if you want to add coffee lessons into your schedule I’m always free.”
“Actually, I was thinking I’d uh… Give you some dinner lessons. At my place.” Trying to be casual but still shooting your shot either way, you figured there was no harm in offering.
“Dinner?” He asked quietly, like he was actually processing the request. “… I’d love dinner! Ooh, can I ask what’s on the menu?!” He seemed very giddy at the idea, and by the looks of it you knew you were gonna have to triple the portion sizes on whatever it is you were going to make.
“A-Ah, it’s… It’s a surprise!” You tried to cover for the fact that you truly had no idea what you were going to make him, but you’re sure you could figure something out.
Now it wasn’t just Doomaggedon peeking around the corner, it was Frogg and Voltar too.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Frogg stroked his plated chin thoughtfully, seeming equally intrigued and concerned.
“Just look at those two, it makes me sick…” Voltar gagged as he saw the two of you sit down at the tiny dining table together, a pink glaze on Red’s freckled cheeks as he fluttered his eyes at you.
It seemed so obvious to the boys that you two were into each other and didn’t even realize. Red was too dense to process his feelings outside of the fact that he enjoyed your presence and you couldn’t fathom the idea of someone so sweet and handsome seeing you that way after too many failed relationship encounters.
“I don’t know what’s worse, low intelligence or low self-esteem,” Voltar would only be okay with the arrangement if his minion kept… Minion-ing. Deep down there was a part of him scared at the possibility of losing Red to a potential lover, since the league was like a found family of sorts for him. It’s the same mental crisis that every younger sibling has when they see their eldest preparing to move out for college.
Frogg was alright with whatever Red chose to do, but he didn’t want him flipping out and panic cleaning every visit, perhaps next time he’ll just take the bus downtown and find something to do.
“I’m sure things will work themselves out, Voltar. His crush on Wow Woman only lasted like, what, about a week?” Frogg pointed out. “Then he forgot all about her.”
“Hmm… Perhaps you’re right,” Voltar seceded to his minion’s suggestion, reasoning that maybe this was only a phase. Surely you’d eventually tire of receiving endless affection and unprompted favors and Red would come crawling back home.
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