#i was in customer service hell today

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

He's just like me for real

[scary-monsters]

diego brando working a retail job is so funny to think abt… he’s getting fired immediately if im being totally honest

[nerdie-faerie]

I'm going to throw something. I'm on my third 9 hour shift in a row scheduled with the two most useless coworkers at once who keep disappearing to do fuck all while I'm manning front by myself and packing 5 orders at once

[moteldogs]

oh so when I’m mouthy it’s all fun and games but when my woman coworkers backtalk they get in trouble. ok

[valtsv]

customer service is a circle of hell on earth but it does sometimes lead to encounters with some of the most delightful human beings on the planet. like today there was a guy who told me i do a cute little bounce when i walk "like one of those birds" and then RAN up to the bar twenty minutes later going "i found it!!!" and thrust his phone into my face to show me a video of a jackdaw hopping around in the grass while grinning madly.

[maito-bi]

today is the nightmare day that just will. not. end

[yukinyaminyato]

proud of myself bc i was able to act normal around him today as if i didn't dream of kissing him last night 🤠

had a rlly nice dream abt my crush...... 😔😔

[targaryenluvs]

we can send in ideas you say 👀 dark! Cory with a reader who’s not so inclined to behave and listen to him, being bratty, turning him away, embarrassing him in public ….. his frail ego would shatter (and who knows what he’d do to her 🫣🫣)

TEMPER TANTRUM

pairing: president!coriolanus snow x fem!bratty!reader

summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?

warnings: arguments, bratty reader, public scenes, punishments, kinda smutty, fingering, not proof read i’m lazy

a/n: stand up and fight back to that rude bitch babe

they’d messed up your order. again.

you’d ordered three dresses, all pink and one was too small. you’d already returned it multiple times but apparently the shop owner was incompetent. did he know who you were? the first lady of panem deserved nothing but the best and this imbecile couldn’t even do his job.

you’d give him another chance you figured. “soreen!” you shouted out as you heard the pitter patter of footsteps on the floor. “yes mrs snow?” you sighed, “pull the car around please. we’re going down to the genevieve store.” she nodded before scurrying away to arrange your mode of transportation.

the car ride was smooth, much to your relief. you needed at least one thing to go right today, and the car ride helped boost your morale as you pulled up in front of the aforementioned store. “here we are mrs snow.” your driver spoke as he promptly exited the vehicle to open your door, “thank you phillip.” he tipped his cap to you before shutting your door, “i’ll be waiting ma’am.”

the store was quite large, for someone who hadn’t been there before it was quite easy to lose your way. but you knew exactly where you were headed, walking a path of determination as you reached the front desk. a young lady, clearly disengaged from her job sat filing her nails at the desk. “what do you want?” your face twisted into a disingenuous smile, this was going to be fun, you thought. you cleared your throat as you placed your handbag down with care.

“mrs y/n snow, here for adina?” the girl looked close to tears as a string of apologies fell through her lips, “let me go get him, again, i cannot express my apologies mrs snow.” you’d already turned around to sit at one of the many chairs strewn about.

adina was frantic.

he sure as hell wasn’t expecting the first lady of panem, in his store, by herself. nonetheless, he quickly nodded along to her explanation of her dilemma, the dresses, the sizes, the unresponsive customer aid line.

you’d walked out of the store were five new dresses, all free of cost. a successful day in your eyes. the whisperings were there, of how the last store clerk who’d kept you waiting went out of business. or how the cook whose meal caused you to choke had his hand cut off. mistakes were made in the process of the workers bending over backwards to produce the upmost quality service for the presidents darling wife.

who was known for her own expensive tastes.

and god help anyone who kept her waiting.

the dress was for a charity event that night. coriolanus of course didn’t want to go, but it was seen as beneficial to his own cause to be seen out and about, especially at a high profile event. whereas you on the other hand? you’d ordered three new dresses, five now, two new pairs of heels and that jewellery set you’d been eyeing up for a while.

coriolanus wanted to get through the night, that was it. the office was as stressful as ever, his secretary was out sick, so a fill-in took her place, stuttering every time he spoke to her and messed up his meetings of the day. but since marrying you, coriolanus knew nothing was ever easy with you.

you prided yourself on your unpredictability. to keep people on their toes. you loved being able to stick out from the rest, keep people guessing. and most of all, you loved being seen, admired. you were never one to be tame, coriolanus knew it. you always tested his patience and temper.

but this?

you’d worn a burgundy gown, off the shoulder, floor length and a v-cut too low for his likes. the one dress out of five he’d disapproved of. you’d disobeyed him purposefully, coriolanus hoped you’d grow out of old habits, but again they die hard.

the eyes were on you like vultures, his wife.

he’d deal with you later, just get through the night.

“and that dress! it’s certainly, something.” you didn’t know the girls name, but her face seemed familiar. “why thank you! coriolanus had picked out some others but then again what do men know about women’s fashion?” the woman’s slack jaw caused you to giggle, “well aren’t you fiery! the president has a lot on his hands with you.”

you tossed your hair behind as you took a sip from your glass, “well i’m sure if he can handle a whole country,” you leaned in before whispering, “he can try his best to handle me.” coriolanus saw red. one night, without your antics was all he’d wished for. the dress and your behaviour had sent him over the edge.

“miss.” coriolanus acknowledged the woman as he grabbed a hold of your hand, “president snow! how nice it is to see you here, and your donation! how splendid.” coriolanus’s charm seemed to switch on instantaneously, “anything for the, good cause.” coriolanus couldn’t give a flying fuck about the cause let alone remember what it was. “it’s time for us to go.”

you had an image, pristine and clear. a lovely woman, kind and respectful. at times naive but overall a caring wife. your slick words, which charmed any man or woman, your striking beauty and sweet personality.

but at your core you, like your husband. couldn’t care less, it was one of the reasons you got along so well. it was all a facade and coriolanus was the only person who knew the real you. much to his chagrin, the real you was a total bitch. a smooth talker with a pretty face who got everything she wanted. you’d never wanted to marry him in the first place, so it seemed to be your personal mission to embarrass the poor man.

“if you’re tired then head on home love. i know you need your hours of sleep, cranky without them!” you made him sound like child without his favourite toy, unable to go on until he had it again. “sweetheart, you know we go home together. now come along.” his tone was nothing like the fake warmth it mimicked, you were on thin ice. “yes i know, honey, but you’re not incapable of returning home without me now are you? i’m sure the driver remembered the directions for you.” you pinched his cheek. pinched. his. cheek.

you may as well have started praying for your soul.

so he left, alone.

you had no clue as to why you wanted to stay. it’s not as if there was someone actually worthwhile to engage in conversation with, but you just wanted to be out of the house. you had to soak up your time outside while it lasted you assumed. coriolanus wouldn’t be letting you out anytime soon, especially after what you’d said that night.

the door slammed shut as you hung up your coat next to corio’s. you took a deep breath in before exhaling. it was going to be a long night.

“did you have fun?” corio was sat in a large, plush, arm chair, swirling a drink in his hand. you could only wonder how many he’d had in the hours by himself. “i did.” your voice was gentle, the house quiet in the dead of night. but the large mansion echoed, he would’ve heard you anyways.

“hm.” he feigned interest in your response. all he wanted was to put you in your place. “corio?” he turned to view you, whilst you walked over before situating yourself on his arm chair. but as soon as you did his glass clattered onto the side table as he rose up. “we’re going to bed.” you weren’t sure if he’d snap if you protested, your feet were aching and you found it best not to argue.

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy, which is how you ended up fully exposed whilst coriolanus was fully dressed. “please.” you’d been on your back for the last, ten? twenty? “please what?” coriolanus liked to put you in your place, it was one of his favourite things to do since you forgot it so often. “touch me.” his hand slipped into your panties, fingers sliding into your already soaking hole as you clutched onto his shoulders.

he’d been teasing you for what felt like forever and you felt you were finally done with it. “close your eyes.” he whispered as his fingers slid out, eliciting a whine from your throat, but you listened, closing your eyes, wondering what he’d do.

it’d been a minute since corio spoke and you were feeling restless. on one hand you could wait for him to speak up, allow you to open your eyes. on the other, you opened them to peek at what he was doing and he dragged out your punishment.

and to your right lay your husband, asleep. “corio!” you groaned out before shoving his shoulder, “you didn’t think i was going to fuck you tonight? after the shit you pulled? you have fingers, use them.” and coriolanus fell asleep soundly to your attempts to finish off without him.

now that, would teach you a lesson.

[stellewriites]

johnny x fat!reader based off of this post i did a while back

cw: unprotected sex, minimal prep, kind of public sex, johnny’s a biter, fat fem reader. it’s just 2.5k of fucking like idk what to say

you winced as you read over the messages once more, feeling your stomach drop at the most recent one sent.

> who am i speaking to? i’d like to be able to make a complaint

you hesitated for a second, wondering if you’d get away with giving a coworker’s name, specifically claire, the coworker that always gave you shit on shift. but as much as the thought tickled you, you knew management would only figure out it was you when they realised claire wasn’t covering for you today.

you typed and sent back your name and apologised again, hoping he didn’t really want to send in a complaint for your slip up. you needed this job and it’d been hard enough to get it despite being over-qualified.

you knew you were a sort of diversity hire for the gym, every other worker there looked like they modelled for gymshark and liked to run a couple miles every morning before breakfast; whereas you cringed at the idea of the friction burn it’d inevitably cause between your thick thighs after the first five minutes.

the rest of the staff were nice enough, friendly; though a few of them couldn’t help but throw comments your way about your weight. it was something you’d had to develop a thick skin to after the first month working there, spending your lunch breaks or the drive home in tears, your self confidence the lowest it’d been since high school.

once you figured out how to let their shit roll off your back like water on a duck, it all became a hell of a lot easier again. though your confidence had taken a hit you were still recovering from. and your current dry spell in the bedroom hadn’t helped.

you worked behind the welcome desk, admin primarily but you covered the IT side of things too, what little there was of it.

the little local gym had started to gain a bit of traction online on social media and the owners had decided to exploit the opportunity and create workout clothes with the gym’s name and logo on it. regulars seemed to like it and people online had started buying when you’d posted that they’d get 20% off their next order if they posted online wearing and using the gym-wear.

it was all going great; you organised the orders and got them sent out on time, arranged any returns or customer service questions without a hitch.

or you did until today.

you’d just been taken aback when you saw the photo the customer - soap141 - had sent in. you’d typed without thinking and now? now you might lose your job because that customer looked to be about five seconds away from busting the seams on his workout vest.

and what a sight that would be.

shit, fuck. you needed to concentrate. it’s been far too long since you last hooked up with anyone and you were always too tired to deal with your pent up energy after work so it had… been a while. you were rightfully and understandably flustered at this photo.

you clicked back on the photo and bit your cheek as you zoomed in on his hands.

you closed the tab with a shake of your head, desperate to clear it, and started working on replying to the emails of the day.

you’d gotten through the majority of them when you were interrupted by a knock on the front desk gaining your attention.

it was just before lunch, and most newcomers either tended to start early morning or in the evening after work, and everyone else was able to go through with their membership qr code with no need to speak to you. this visit was unexpected and not in your usual routine.

you looked up at the unfairly handsome man before you and smiled.

“hi, can i help you?”

“i hope so, hen,” he said and his eyes dragged over your soft body appreciatively before landing on your name tag and growing sharp. “need to make a return, vest i got was too small. lass i spoke to online was, uhh, nae so helpful.”

you flushed.

the name badge pinned on your chest suddenly felt like it weighed a ton as you did you best not to let your eyes flicker down or you hand rise to cover it. he’d spotted it already, you could tell by his meanly satisfied look that was pinning you to your chair.

“i’m so so sorry, sir—.”

“johnny.”

“johnny. i can get that return sorted for you immediately,” you said, visibly flustered. he watched you for a moment, seeming to revel in your nervous energy until you sent a wide eyed, skittish look over your shoulder, hoping none of your co-workers were near by enough to overhear how much free merch you were about to offer for him to not make a complaint.

johnny however thought you were looking for a way out, a coworker to back you up.

“hey now, there’s no need t’make a scene, ey?” he interrupted, his head tilted to catch your eyes quicker when you turned back to face him. “i’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.”

oh thank god, you were on the same page, he just wanted a fucking bribe. that you could do easily.

“of course, definitely. follow me,” you said and stood up. you waved him behind the desk and pointed to the storage room behind you. “i can process your refund before you leave, and you can have a look at the sizes of the other items we have in stock. maybe a free vest and t-shirt for all the trouble?”

he winced.

“that’s not exactly what i had in mind, bonnie.” he crept closer, his fingers dancing along the surface of the desk, playful in a way you couldn’t relate to at that moment. “was real unprofessional what you said, but i have something in mind that you can do for me that might get me to forget it ever happened. would take my mind off it, if you catch my drift.”

close enough to touch, he let his hand drift up to cheekily tug at the hem of your shirt, his fingers making light work of burrowing beneath to find your soft, warm skin.

“are you fucking with me?” you demanded after letting his words sit in the air for a moment, holding his wrist still. you’d been a bit forward on the chat, sure, but if he was going to be a prick about it you’d rather face the consequences with your managers instead.

his face grew serious for a moment, all teasing sharpness gone. “would never,” he said earnestly. you looked at him and saw the genuine arousal he held in the lick of his lips, the puffed up breadth of his chest; genuine unbridled want.

fuck it.

your own shoulders relaxed and you nodded.

“well, first thing we’re taught in retail is that the customer’s always right,” you said as you walked back towards the storage room, your eyes flickered to the gym behind you but no one was looking your way. you kept his hand at your waist so he followed closely. “maybe i could show you something more exclusive back here, you can try it on for size.”

“i think i already know it’s goin’ tae fit jus’ right,” johnny grinned and kicked the storage door closed behind him.

he hooked his fingers under your shirt, dragging it up until he could take in his fill of your thick waist, warm and malleable beneath his rough palms. he was none to gentle but determined in keeping you close. he dragged his nose down your cheek and breathed heavily for a moment as you clung to his biceps.

“what do you want?” you asked shakily. you’d experienced your fair share of one night stands but it’d been a while since someone had been so openly wanting with you, it left your hands a little jittery at how quick everything was moving.

“what are ya willing to give?” he shot back, letting a wet kiss land next to your ear.

“customer satisfaction is high on my list of priorities, i’ll have you know,” you hummed, trying to calm down and let yourself enjoy it.

johnny laughed, a little too loud for the small room, and pulled back enough to wiggle his eyebrows.

“ah bet it is,” he snickered. “but ye cannae deny that happy workers keep a place running, and i’m all about giving pretty workers their due benefits.”

he tugged at the waistband of your sports leggings, dropping to his knees so quickly you felt lightheaded at the sight.

“take tha’ off.” he nodded up to your rumpled shirt and you moved without hesitance despite the bright, unflattering light in the centre of the glorified cupboard. you shed your bra without waiting for instruction next, letting it drop to the floor where johnny had haphazardly piled your shoes and clothes. he was currently mesmerised by the hang of your belly, and the wobbling clench of your thighs as you shifted in front of him. he ran his hands and lips ever so lightly from your knee to your hip before baring his teeth.

“hey, no biting!” you were quick to say, your hands going to frame his face, fingers tilting up his jaw so you could both hold him back and make eye contact to show him you were serious. you had a feeling he was the type to push boundaries and ignore you if you weren’t careful.

“a’right hen, not this time,” he agreed and delicately kissed the stretch marks there instead and then turned to kiss one of your palms. once you’d let go, he stood and bent his head low to kiss and suck at your tits, his hands unable to stay still as he plucked at a nipple before it roamed further down to squeeze at your arse or rub at where the thin cotton of your knickers dug into your skin.

you tilted your head back and let him explore freely for a moment before a heavy hand was dragging you forward by the back of your neck and his lips found yours.

you keened into his mouth as he kissed you deeply; licked at his tongue and lips lazily in turn. you pulled back feeling throughly ravaged and yet barely touched.

“you’re staying clothed? that doesn’t seem fair.” you pouted as you looked down at the shirt you held in clenched fists.

“fuck fair,” he panted into your mouth, grinning. “but maybe if you ask nicely i’ll tek it off.”

“please?” you begged immediately, delighting in the surprise on his face. “please take it off, want to see you. please.”

he snorted, eyes blown wide and nodded.

“ok, pretty thing,” he said indulgently and made quick work of his shirt and trousers. you gawped at his bare, hairy chest and the swollen cock trapped in his boxers. “c’mere.”

he tugged you forward again and kissed down your chest, light presses of his lips to soften the scratching trail of his beard, before dropping to his knees. you leant back unsteadily against the small table you used to put orders together, crammed against the wall.

his eyes flickered up to yours and you recognised a flash of mischievousness a second before he lent in and bit at your plush hip. his hands squeezed at the fat of your thighs as you gasped out a sharp moan, he hissed as he let go when you pulled at his mohawk in shock and slight embarrassment.

“couldnae help it, hen,” he said with a dopey grin. he wrapped his hand around yours in his hair. “do that again though, yeah?”

you barely gave yourself a moment to recover or think too hard about his blatant disregard of your earlier wishes and instead tugged lightly, a little hesitant now that it wasn’t instinctual, at his hair. you were spurred on by the pleasured crease in his brow as he pulled down your knickers and his groan from both the hint of pain and the sight of you bare before him.

“think ye might just be made for me, such a perfect body and yer not so sweet as ye let on after all,” he mumbled. unceremoniously he sucked on two fingers before trailing them between your thighs, bullying your left leg up onto one burly arm so he could gain better access to your slick pussy. you tried to balance on one leg and less so on the table but the feeling of johnny’s tongue on your clit, lavving like a needy dog, had you slumping back.

he let out a heady groan at the taste of you and knew just what to do to keep you dripping like he had you on tap.

“remind me ta get yer number after this,” he panted, fingers stretching you quickly and clumsily.

his words were the final nail in the coffin that confirmed he wasn’t just fucking you for the shock value or to tell his friends there’s an easy fat girl that works at the gym. his attraction was genuine and he didn’t seem ashamed of that, was eager with it even.

showed it in the messy way he ate you out, licking between his fingers and lavishing in the wet, sticky noises he pulled from you; hidden only when either of you moaned too loud. you tried to hide it behind your hands but johnny seemed to pull back purposely to keep them loud when your nails scratched along his scalp.

it wasn’t enough to get off though, and he knew it, didn’t care actually as he had wasted no time once his third finger was fitting snug inside your cunt to pull them all back out, deeming you stretched and prepped enough.

he kissed you, too open mouthed and all tongue - far from the best kiss, but one you’d not soon forget - once he was stood up and turned you around so you could bend over the table.

“yeah?” he checked in quickly, freeing his cock and giving it a quick tug with his sticky fingers.

you nodded eagerly and reached back to hold one arse cheek to the side, letting him look at your holes from the back.

“fuck me,” he swore, whistling until you let go to swat at him with a laugh.

“my fucking co-workers,” you hissed, biting back a feral grin. the idea of them catching you now seemed less daunting than it had at the start, not when the promise of johnny’s cock was so close.

“if they haven’t heard us by now, bonnie…” he slapped your other cheek and bit his lip as it sent a ripple across your body. “beautiful.”

he tapped his cock at you pussy, hissing at the tease of the wet heat he was seconds away from.

“johnny,” you groaned out as he lingered.

you winced as he pushed in a moment later, just this side of too tight given the rushed prep but you whined through it until he bottomed out.

“perfect fit,” he hummed.

you felt every inch of him, only exacerbated when he leant forward to lean on your back, kissing at your neck.

“steamin’ jesus, i can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me,” he huffed. he ran a hand down your side before shifting, starting a steady pace he seemed to lose himself in as the pleasure your body brought him had him seeing stars.

you gasped at an especially hard thrust, your breath knocked out of you even as you felt yourself grow ever closer to your orgasm. you knew it’d be a doozy after going so long without, but as johnny’s spongy head knocked passed your g-spot like he was being paid to make you cum in under two minutes flat, you knew you weren’t going to be able to be quiet about it.

christ, it felt like he was nudging at your cervix, something you knew wasn’t true but the thought had you clenching and creaming around him either way.

“h-harder,” you whispered. “god, harder.”

johnny complied immediately, readjusting his grip on your hips to get better leverage to fuck into you harder and deeper.

“gonna cum already, hen, can feel you pulsing around me so good,” he warned.

“let me— i wanna, i want,” you struggled to get the words out but the thought of johnny leaving you high and dry after getting his own, when you were so close, had you panicking.

“i know, beautiful, don’t you worry. you’ll get yours,” he promised, hefting you both back a step from the table, just enough so he could slip his hand around and let his middle finger rest over your throbbing clit.

you tried to stifle your moan at the welcome and necessary attention and knew johnny was grinning like a mad man behind you.

“There you go, wanna hear you so bad, s’fucking hot,” he encouraged. “fuck yer coworkers.”

you rolled your hips along with his thrusts and steady pressure on your clit until you felt your vision white out and your cunt clench viciously. you felt johnny huff and slap his hips into your forgiving arse until he moaned, not at all muffled like yours had been.

he slumped over you, doing his best to balance on shaking arms so he didn’t crush you against the table.

“you tell your managers that this customer is definitely satisfied,” he said, eliciting an unattractive snort from you. you giggled as you lightly shrugged and batted him off until you were able to peel your sweaty skin from the table and stand back up straight, rubbing delicately at the imprint of the table that ran across your stomach.

he winced and ran a gentle palm across it alongside yours.

“wan’ me t’kiss it better?” he offered, the look in his eye only half as teasing as you were expecting.

without a care, he grabbed one of the shirts off the shelf and wiped you down, keeping his touches efficient and tender when they drifted between your legs.

he passed you your clothes, smiling at your shy thanks and busied himself with getting dressed as you struggled back into your own clothes.

it should’ve felt awkward walking out into the gym; you were almost certain your coworkers would be waiting outside ready to catch you, or worse some of the gym users. but johnny made it seem normal.

as you went to take your seat behind the desk he slapped your arse one last time, giving you a cheeky wink when you hissed at him.

“prick,” you huffed with a smile, rubbing at the smarting spot, but he only cooed and leant in to steal a chaste kiss before rounding back to stand in front of the desk.

he leant his hip against it as he looked down at you, suddenly shy when he held his phone out.

“only if ya want, hen. no pressure if this was just a one time thing.”

you glanced at his hopeful puppy-dog eyes and reached for the phone.

fuck it, maybe he could be your morning workout.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Something Stupid

AO3

Simon is lounging at the table while you boil some water. You stared at the kettle as you waited. The electric one you had wasn't working, you didn't have the funds yet to replace it and didn't dare mention it to Simon. The last time you mentioned that you needed something he added you to his credit card. That had been a whole thing.

Flicking through the mail you found a plain envelope with your name on it. Bit odd, but might as well check what bill collecter this was from. Sliding the guts from it you are surprised when one side of the folded paper dips with weight.

Concerned now, you flatten it against the counter. Glued to the middle right of the paper is a black credit card with your name on it. Outright worried is now your level of concern.

The letter is generic, here is your card, here is how to activate it, signed from the issuing company.

Thinking this must be some elaborate scam you grab your phone and search for the customer service line of the company. Waiting on the line and dodging the automated system you finally reach a person.

"Thank you for calling *Credit Card Company*. How can I help you today?" The professional voice on the other end chirps at you.

"Hi, so I have a bit of a weird situation that I am hoping you can help me with." You pause for a breath before continuing. "I recieved a card in the mail from your company but I don't have an account with you and I am a little worried that this might be a scamming attempt. A elborate one, but still."

"Oh, that does sound quite odd. Can you give me the number that appears on the card? We will see what I can find," the gentle concern layed over customer service helps.

"Yeah," you provide the number and wait.

A moment of silence is broken by the agent.

"I'm still here, I am just double-checking what I am seeing so I give you all the correct information."

"That's fine, I won't think the call dropped if there is silence." You had a phone job once. Heaven forbid you not be filling the silence on the line or a customer would lose their minds.

"Okay, so it appears that you have been added by a cardholder with us. A Simon Riley has added you and initiated the card being sent to the address we have on file. Is there anything else I can help with today?"

"I...no..I guess that is everything I needed. Thank you for your help," you stare at the counter as you try and process what you learned.

Staring at the spotted formica of the counter you lean forward on your hands. The shock had started to wear off, you couldn't decide if what you were feeling was nausea or rage. Why the hell did he add you to his credit card? You barely knew each other!

Yes, you lived together but the man was gone 80% of the time and you hardly spoke the other 20. The only thing you could think is that you happened to mention needing deodorant and that having to wait because of when payday occured.

Calling him seemed the best option. You knew he was still in the country. Said he would be home in two days and had to finish up some overnight training at a nearby base.

Your call reaches voicemail after two rings. Calling again it hits voicemail immediately.

"Fucker you cannot avoid talking to me about this," you growl at your phone. Your case bites into your fingers where you grip it tight. "Fine, let's try John."

John picks up on the third ring.

"Price."

His work voice makes you smile.

"Hi John, is Simon around by chance?" You ask sweetly.

He must turn the phone to his shoulder as he shouts for Simon by his call sign.

"Phone's for you."

A shift in the silence tells you Simon has put the phone to his ear.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You snap into the phone.

"'bout what?"

"The credit card?" You can't prevent yourself from slashing your hand through the air even though he can't see you.

"It's easier."

These short responses are making you madder.

"Simon Riley who does this make things easier for?!"

"Me."

"Explain that," you growl into the phone. You start to pace the length of the kitchen.

"Keep the food stocked and yourself cared for. Price, here is your phone."

Agast you can't keep your mouth from dropping open.

"What's that about?" Price's voice draws you back from the edge of madness.

"That is about Simon adding me to his credit card without talking to me about it and expecting me to use his money responsibly and keep food in the house. If he doesn't show up to his next assignment it's because I've killed him, John. That man takes too many liberties with my life and I don't know how to make him stop."

"Well, first off don't threaten him. I can almost guarantee he likes it," John muttered into the phone.

"That is not helpful John," you snap.

"Sorry, don't know how to be helpful in this kind of situation. Call me if there are more issues though." He ended the call without a goodbye.

When you stretched your jaw to work some of the tension out of it the joint popped.

The whistle of the kettle drew your attention from your memories. Filling one cup had you turning the green kettle nearly vertical and still not having enough water to finish filling the large mug.

Without thinking about why it would be a bad idea you pull the top off to refill it. A puff of boiling steam rushes up and over both of your hands. You drop the kettle to the stove with a hiss.

"Well, that was stupid," Simon comments.

Rolling your eyes you stick your hands under cool running water. "Don't you ever do something stupid without thinking about it?"

His head appears before you, lips pressed to yours. His eyes are soft as he pulls back.

"Yes."

You glare at him.

"I'm not going to take offense that you think kissing me is stupid. Nope, not taking offense at that."

You slam the water off and aggressively dry your hands, tossing the towel on the counter instead of neatly returning it to its home.

A few hours of avoiding him later you overhear a conversation on speakerphone from the living room.

"Simon you are the stupidest smart man I've ever met. And that's saying something, we both know Soap," John chastises Simon.

Simon chuckled dryly, "Still don't understand how he can do the math to blow an oil rig sky high but can't figure out a budget."

John chuckles in reply.

"Don't know how to explain to her that it was the kissing that was stupid, not the kissing her," Simon says quietly.

"Can't help you there, if she's mad at you she is more likely to agree to go on a date with me," John points out sounding smug.

Is that what they have been doing asking you on dates, trying to win? You can't decide if you should be offended or flattered.

"I could take her on a date if I wanted but I like spending time with her here."

"I like spending time with her too, but I can also get a cool activity out of it at the same time," John counters.

Okay so maybe they weren't all trying to date you, just spend time with you and only have the language to call it a date. Hmm. Looks like you will be hearing from John soon then about a date.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[enbeemagical]

I Demand Answers

me when my social anxiety makes me anxious of socializing but it turns out to be NEEDLESS WORRY:

id: surprised pikachu /end

[destinyisastar]

Lost in your Love pt 2

read here for: pt 1

Summary: It's been seven years since you've been with Vox, what will occur on this hellish day?

Vox x Wife reader (Alastor x reader)

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Hell’s morning red hue shines through your window as you twist yourself beneath the covers on your bed. You reach hand out to your left but are meant with an empty space.

You sit up stretching your arms and look around your bedroom searching for your lover.

There's a piece of paper on your nightstand you grab it, yawning.

“Had an early morning meeting, I’ll see you later this afternoon, buy yourself something nice sweetheart 💕.

-Vox”

Giggling you get yourself ready for the day. You head into the bathroom looking into the mirror “Today’s going to be a good day!”

You decided to pick out a dark blue dress with white short sleeves, Vox asked Velvette to make it specially for you.

“What should I do today?” You walk over to your shelf, “No I have enough books, oh wait….” You walk over to Vox’s closet and pull out his most recent tux.  He recently had an argument with Valentino, which lead the moth to scratch him, therefore ripping his tux.

“I’ll go to the tailor!” You know you can ask Velvette to patch it up but she’s more busy than ever with an upcoming fashion show.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

As you exit the building, you can hear the hellish screams of sinners being tossed about.

Humming to yourself, you spot a camera and walk towards it blowing a kiss to the screen, you know that vox is always watching you, even if he can’t be there physically.  You like feeling protected, knowing that your husband cares for you.

A ding from your phone stops your humming.

“Don’t be out for too long, love you❤️”

You feel all giddy, you’ve never felt more loved.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Finally, you made your way into the Tailors shop.

“Hello! There’s a couple of rips here and there, do you think you could repair it?” You ask the owl sinner.

The sinner trembles, “Yes, o-of course I can give me a m-moment.” The owl takes the tux and goes toward the backroom.

There are a couple of seats, so you take one and pull out your book from your purse and flip through the pages to find the chapter you left off on. You take note that there seems to be a big commotion going on outside, but you don’t pay any mind.

The bell from the door rings, signaling that a new customer has walked in.

You don’t bother looking up, but you feel the presence ,a static like sound, of someone standing right in front of you.

You don’t move because why would anyone mess with Vox’s Wife?

“Y/n?” The voice sounds like a radio, no…. it can’t be… it can’t be the radio demon?!

You immediately look up.

The presence you felt was indeed The Radio Demon. The demon whose been missing for seven years.

What does he want with you? Is he planning to kill you? Does he want your soul?

You start to breathe rapidly, clutching your hand to your heart, “What do you want with me!?” You reach for your phone in your purse.

“Darling, calm down its just me.” Alastor the Radio Demon tells you calmly. “I’ve been looking for you.” He moves towards you even closer, but you shoot up from your seat making him back away, startled.

“NO! Stay away from me!” You start backing away from the demon, making your way slowly towards the door.

Just before you can turn the knob the Radio Demon grabs your hand.

“Y/n, my love what are you doing? Why are you running away from me?” His radio voice is turned off.

You feel yourself trembling, “Please! P-please don’t hurt me! I won’t tell my husband  that you were here! Let me go!”

Alastor lets go of your hand and you rush out the door.

You can see Vox on the television screens, he seems to be in a rage. The phone in your hand starts to vibrate rapidly.

“Y/n where are you babe?”

“Y/n?”

“Y/n come back home.”

“I’m not playing around.”

“Get home now”

More messages start to pour in from assistants to Velvette and even Valentino.

Whatever the Radio Demon did had stopped all services from your phone.

You run back to V Tower.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Alastor watched as you ran out of the tailor shop his mind seemingly blank.

His signature smile stretches even further up his face.

‘My Husband’

What did you mean by that?

Alastor was your husband.

No, is your husband.

Why are you afraid of him?

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Give me your thoughts is it good? is it bad? critique my work please! (sorry if it seems short)

destinyisastar 2024

taglist: @songbirdpond @diffidentphantom @ginny-higgins

Word Count: 759

[trashmouth-richie]

𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜?

summary: just a summer day with your best friend, his girlfriend and his best friend.

A/n: I think I’ve written shy and awkward Eddie one other time but I just love him. He’s a little shy in this but the other chapters he’ll be very awkward

Eddie x fem! Reader, best friend! Gareth

18+ fluff, sweet + shy Eddie.

part 1/?

pt. 2: my ties are severed clean

pt. 3: so I turn back the time

“C’mon princess, the water isn’t that cold.”

“Wanna play mermaids?”

—

The van skid to a stop in the parking lot of Benny’s. Clouds of dust circling in its wake. Loud, mind splitting music blaring from the speakers, turning heads in the diner to glare out the filthy fog stained windows to see who would cause such a ruckus on this beautiful Sunday afternoon in the cozy sleepy town of Hawkins. 

  Your bestfriend since kindergarten, had called you earlier today, begging you to go to the pool with him and a friend.

  “Aren’t we a little old for that?” You protested, balancing the corded phone between your ear and shoulder as you tie the pink apron strings around your waist, “besides Gare, I gotta work today.” 

  Even though his pleads and promises to make it worth your while peaked your interest, you still turned him down. Rent was due in the next week and you were short. 

  So you went to work, waiting tables and slinging pieces of cherry pie to the cheerful families after Sunday service. A smug hint of regret on your customer service smile. 

  It was 91° outside, making the diner feel like a special secret layer of hell that only existed in Hawkins. The itchy starch of your uniform clung to your skin and, sweat pooled down your back and made your hair limp. You took orders while fanning yourself with a menu. 

  Rubbing a sweaty glass of tea on your neck to cool yourself down, you had already replaced your usual bubblegum with ice cubes, melting too quick on your tongue to make it worth it. 

  By 2 o’clock you were tired and uncomfortable from being hot and sweaty. A combination mixed with irritation as one of your regulars yelled at you for forgetting ketchup. And when you slammed down a bottle on his table and cracked a half wit here you are, the bell above the front door dinged to alert you another no tipping customer came in for their dinner. 

  You stretch your lower back with both hands on your hips slightly, you call out behind the faded white swinging doors welcoming whoever to Benny’s and that you’d be right with them. 

  Straightening your hair and grabbing a few menus and napkin rolled silverware, you hear a familiar voice. 

  Not knowing him on a personal level, just from afar. Always with Gareth and the boys, the lead singer of their Hawkins famous band. The long curly haired, mysterious, Eddie Munson stood at the door. 

  He was leaning against the door frame, an unbuttoned flannel flapping gently with the oscillating steel blades of the old fan. The prettiest grin stretching his face into a sweet smile. 

  You didn’t have time to address him before his face turned into a makeshift look of worry. Big doe eyes glistening with eyebrows pulled upward into that mess of curls 

  It’s Gareth, there’s been an accident. 

  Without thinking, you throw the menus down on the nearest shelf and run to tell Benny you have to leave. Grabbing your purse and keys. 

  Gareth was always fucking around, taking his skateboard behind Jeff’s car, lighting fireworks off in the barrels behind the mall— it could be anything. 

  The tears are still fresh in your eyes when the seatbelt clicks into place, followed by a pair of warm hands covering your eyes, the faint familiar smell of camel cigarettes and chips. 

  Eddie speeds off from the parking lot and you gasp and turn around to hear the giggling boyish laugh of none other than Gareth. 

  Sitting smug with a cigarette tucked between his lips, his girlfriend Molly sitting next to him, a small smile on her thin lips. 

  After punching your friend and listening to the two rowdy boys laugh loud at your tears you explain through a pout that you don’t even have a suit. 

  Of course the shared 5 brain cells left between them already had that covered. 

  So here you were, ass pinched in the plastic chairs at the Hawkins Community Pool. The mothers of young children flocked to their reserved seats positioned carefully beside the wooden lifeguard perch. Eager for the brainless attention and smug mustache grin from the mullet wearing asshole that was Billy Hargrove. 

  When arriving to the pool, Eddie and Gareth tore off their shirts and shoes, both wearing cut off jeans into the cool water. Diving into the deep end despite the whistles from the sour faced lifeguards that forbade them from running. 

Heels over head back-flips, cannonballs that sprayed the sidewalk, Olympic style dives from the high dive, throwing kids in the pool who came back for

more—they hadn’t stopped since getting here. Eddie’s soft brown curls hung wet—almost straight down his back and floated in the cool water as he climbed the steps up from the deep end.

  Molly rubs another layer of baby oil on her legs and lets out a big sigh, her tortoise shell sunglasses sitting perched on her button nose. “It was Eddie’s idea, believe it or not.” 

  “What was?” You question, trying to adjust the skimpy borrowed red string bikini around your boobs. 

  “Picking you up,” she answers, a smirk in her lips, “he’s been begging Gareth all summer to give him the okay to ask you out.” 

  Eddie Munson? 

  “Nah uh..” 

  There was no way. 

  “Swear on the Bible, babe,” Molly grins, and she flicks the lighter against her pall mall. 

  “Gareth told me he was dating that girl who works at the Hideout, the one with the big tits?” 

  She rolls her eyes, “Gareth just didn't want his best friend dating his other best friend, he wouldn’t be able to choose sides if you guys broke up.” 

  “I barely even know him,” you say slowly, suddenly feeling a swarm of butterflies tickle your tummy, “he was older than us in school and I wasn’t in Hellfire.” 

  Flashes of your high school years blur before you, when he wasn’t making an ass of himself in the lunch room, Eddie was quiet, small laughs with his friends and completely enamored by D&D. 

  “Well according to Gareth, he’s been wanting your number for years, but was too shy to ask.” 

  You caught his eye a few times since getting to the pool. A shy glance here or there, dark eyes peeking over from the crest of the water to check if you had seen his cool trick from the high dive. 

  Eddie Munson had a crush on you. 

  “Babe!” Gareth calls from the side of the pool, his mop of scraggly curls dripping, “get in the water with us.”

  Molly pushes her sunglasses into her thick blonde hair, “absolutely not, I didn’t come here to play.” you both giggle at him as he pouts and you almost jump out of your skin when Eddie looks directly at you.

  “What about you?” he asks, splashing a handful of water up at you, the droplets hit you like lightning. 

  A small squeal leaves your lips as you wipe the water off your warm tanning skin, “fuck! that’s freezing!” 

  “Oh c’mon princess,” he purred, ignoring Gareth’s eye roll and wiping a hand down his slightly sunburnt face, “the water isn’t that cold.” 

  His smile warms your insides and sends an ache to your core. Lowering your chair you lay flat on your back, tossing a middle finger to the two boys floating in the deep end, a small victorious smile on your lips as the sun shines on your face.

  You didn’t remember ever seeing Eddie with a girlfriend, and from the lies Gareth told you about him being a ladies man, you figured maybe he just didn’t date.

  A shadow is casted against your stomach and face and you peek open one eye to see Eddie standing before you, dripping chlorine water down his tattooed chest. His cutoff black jeans hanging heavy on his hips, the black boxer briefs sitting dangerously low on his hip dips. His large hands thread through his hair wringing out the dark curls onto the concrete.

  Your thighs clench at the sight and your breath hitches in your throat.

  “Don’t make me pick you up and toss you in, sweetheart.” he says all too smooth, shaking his head like a dog. A toothy grin plastered on his ridiculously good looking face. 

  You put a foot onto his wet chest, stopping him in his tracks and wiggling your painted toes against his tattooed skin, “you wouldn’t dare.” 

  And what is meant to stop him only drives his want further. Before you can figure out what is happening, Eddie has you scooped up in his arms and is tickling your sides. 

  “No no no! Eddie, please!” 

  Your kicking and giggling falls on deaf ears as his cold wet skin seeps into your swimsuit, the ends of his hair bead water onto your chest as you cling to his neck. 

  Standing on the edge of the pool, his back facing the water, the browns of his eyes lighten in the sun, and his eyelashes kiss together as he squints. 

  He licks his lips, and you see the flash of what looks like a small metal ball on his tongue, “d’you trust me?” 

  Scrunching your nose you close your eyes and nod, you hear a laugh erupt from his chest as he falls back into the water with you. 

  The water was freezing. And Eddie’s hair covered your face like silky seaweed. Opening your eyes under the water, you see Eddie smiling at you, bubbles encasing him. He grabs your hand and you both break the surface of the water. 

  “Eddie, you jackass!” Molly yells from her chair as Gareth takes comfort in your chair next to hers, “you could have hurt her.” 

  “She’s in good hands,” Eddie yells, his eyes never leaving yours as he treads water in front of you. 

  You blush under his stare, the butterflies taking over and fluttering wildly, you feel like a teenager.

   And you’re almost embarrassed when you blurt out, “wanna play mermaids?” 

  And more surprised when Eddie only laughs and says, “teach me?”

  Your sides hurt from laughing, legs ached from playing like kids with Eddie. Just when you’d think he would want to stop and sit out, he’d come up with another game.  

  Sharks and minnows: he volunteered to be the shark each time just to be able to chase you around the pool. 

You had repeated diving contests off the high dive: where he waited for you in the water raising up his fingers in numbers to every single dive you performed as if he was a judge at an event, his smile wide and cheery. 

  He laughed at the way you asked him to do George Washington style hair dos, but dunked his head into the water to proudly show his new hairstyle, trying not to melt at your little giggle and the feel of your fingers in his hair, pushing his bangs back into submission. 

  When the pool was nearly empty and a sunburnt Molly and Gareth took the van to go get Aloe Vera before Melvald’s closed, Eddie closed you in around the edge of the shallow water during a game of Marco Polo. 

  His voice low and velvety when he answered. Your eyes pinched shut as you reached for him and he closed his fingers between yours. 

  “Got ya,” you whisper, opening your eyes and seeing Eddie staring down into your face. Small freckles dot his nose and upper cheeks from the day in the sun, “you lose.” 

  Eddie’s playfulness is gone, he’s all serious behind the depth of his coal eyes, “you sure about that, babe?” 

  “Is that a thing of yours? Pet names for all the girls?” you tease. 

  His eyes soften and his thumb traces your chin, “and if it was?” 

  The sun is behind his head like a halo, and god he looks like a fallen angel. 

  Your tongue darts out to wet your lower lip, the astringent taste of chlorine bitter on your tongue.  Eddie’s eyes follow, and you see the silver jewelry again in his mouth when he repeats your actions. 

  The thought of that steel ball hugging and sweeping against your lips make you shiver. 

  Before you can answer him, all the lifeguards blow their whistles and announce the pool is closing. 

  But Eddie doesn’t budge and neither do you. His thumb sweeps against your cheek and you buckle under his touch. 

  “Hey assholes!” A loud booming voice full of too much testosterone and choked balls from the worlds tightest swim trunks echoes across the concrete pool, “we’re closed, get the fuck out!” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes up at the mullet wearing douche, and plants his hands on the edge of the pool, jumping out. Water splashes around his feet as he extends a grin and a large hand down to you, “c’mon princess, i’ll walk you home.” 

[ccoconutmall]

✐ᝰIF ONLY SHE KNEW

⪼ home

yuta sighed as he cleaned off the counters with the wet rag, toge was busy taking an order, his voice cutting through the soft music playing inside the cafe. they’ve had this job for almost 2 years, and it still feels like the same routine. clean, talk to rude customers here and there, clean some more, then go home. yuta looked around so he could find something to operate his time, seeing as he had already refilled the cups, pastries, and napkins. he even cleaned the tables. it felt like he cleaned this place 6 times to get ready for the rush that was bound to come soon.

but the sound of the bell ringing to indicate a new person walking through made him look up. a large gasp escaping his mouth as he ducked down to hide behind the counter. what were you doing there? out of all the people he had to see today, when he was covered in sweat, dirty from all the cleaning he did today and he even had stains all over him. you hadn’t even noticed him upon walking in, you were busy with your friends. once toge finished giving a customer their order, he looked down to see yuta covering his head with his arms, trying to hide. “what the hell are you doing? get up you dingus.” he groaned when he saw yuta shake his head nervously, but when he looked up, he could see the reason why he was hiding. “seriously..? yuta. just take the order.” yuta shook his head again as toge groaned, not so much that he had to take your order, but the reason he had to take it was because yuta was acting like a scaredy cat. again.

he gently moved him out of the way with his foot, not noticing yuta slowly walk away without trying to give himself away. “hello, welcome to the coffee bean, may i take your order?” there was a friendly smile plastered on his face, so you wouldn’t think he was as annoyed as he once previously was. putting on his best customer service voice. you hummed and looked up at the large tv menu mounted onto the wall before you started.

“can i get a vanilla bean latte with cold foam and a strawberry shortcake?” he nodded as he put in your order, looking towards your friends so they could put in their order. once he was done typing everything into the ipad, he looked back up at you “$12.50.” you nodded and handed him your credit card out of your wallet. he swiped your card and printed out a paper receipt with your order number on it, and with a smile, you were gone and went to find a seat with your friends. “see yuta, that wasn’t so.. bad?” 

he looked down at his feet, but yuta was nowhere to be found “oh you gotta be fucking with me.” mumbling to himself, he pulled out his phone while nobody was in line.

toge grumbled as he put his phone into his back pocket. yuta scanning the area before he fully came out and walked behind the counter. “go get the order ready.” toge demanded him pointing to the machine. yuta looked at him like a kicked puppy, but he silently did what he was told, and that was making your order. 

“ynnn…” nobara dragged out her words with a huge grin across her face. “is that the cute boy you wanted to see?” she giggled as the two guys looked at you as well, stopping what they were doing before. “oh my god… nobara, i didn’t come here because of a cute guy… i just wanted to hang out since we’ve been so busy with exams recently.” she sucked her teeth quietly and put her hand on her cheek looking over to the counter. she gasped loudly “what about him?!” her whisper yell made you jump a little and look over, there was a new person there. he was tall and skillfully fixing up your dessert, making sure he used the juiciest strawberries. you watched as he cut them up, his hands were delicately fixing up your stuff. yuji laughed at your reaction “oh, it has to be. look at how she’s watching him!” nobara quickly slapping her hand over yuji’s loud mouth. “shut up! we can’t let them know!” 

you rolled your eyes at them, but yuji was right, you were watching him use his hands a little intensely, like you could burn holes straight through his palms. would they believe you if you said it was just because you were watching him make your order? probably not. “guys. please, we’re not having another aaron situation!” you yelled in a hushed tone. all three of them deadpanned “bitch, aaron didn’t even know you, that’s different.” megumi groused, your mouth went slack, but he was also right.

 “how do you know he knows me?” you raised your eyebrow at him, megumi crossed his arms over his chest before he answered you again. “because yuta, was in our high school, and if he’s here, he probably goes to the same university.” you quickly turned your head to get a peak at his name tag, but before you could say anything, your order number was called out. 

“329?” yuta called out, his voice was sort of shaky, but he looked around. “bitch, go!” nobara pushed you out and you went up to the counter. “im 329.” you smiled at him, and he swore his heart started beating out of his chest, he could feel his ears get hot trying to swallow down whatever he was feeling in his stomach before handing you your stuff. “thanks yuta!” you gushed, your fingers gently rubbing against his as you took your order and went back to your table. 

he looked at his hands, dark red blush creeping onto his face as he suppressed the urge to go into the back alleyway where the employees normally take their lunch breaks and scream to the top of his lungs. he was over the moon to say the very least. it might’ve been a small gesture, but after knowing of you for 4 years and being shy to actually initiate anything, he thinks he did a damn good job at hiding how he really felt at that moment. a large, goofy grin was spread across his face. he could feel the ghosting touch of your soft, warm hands against his still. he quickly looked over at you as you talked to your friends and looked back at his hand. 

“why are you staring at your hand, you freak of nature?” toge quipped, but yuta didn’t even care. he just sighed dreamily and looked at him “she touched me..” toge’s eyes widened, he couldn’t believe that yuta actually was able to talk to you. even if it was just to call out your order. “and! she called me by my name!” toge could practically see hearts floating around yuta, it was like he was in a cartoony haze, and toge just nodded his head. “now, before she leaves, you should ask for her number. 

yuta nodded, honestly not hearing a word that left toge’s head, but he tried going along with it. toge watched as you went to the counter again, your friends leaving to wait for you in front of the store. “go! now!” toge pushed yuta to the counter again, which snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“hey, uh.. i wanted to give you a tip, the strawberry shortcake was really good.” yuta looked at you as you handed him a $5. he tried swallowing some spit, but his throat was dry. “it’s no problem.. uh,” he couldn’t stop stuttering but he continued on. “they’re my specialty, everyone always asks for them.” you laughed, then smiled at him “i see why!” he took the money from you, but before you could walk away he stopped you. “hey, i know you might not remember me.. but do you think i could.. maybe get your number?” 

your eyes widened as you looked at him, he was visibly blushing, you don’t even know how long he’s been waiting to ask you, and even though he was fully prepared for you to reject him, you smiled at him, and he swore he could die, right then and there. 

“sure!”

© property of ccoconutmall ‘24. please do not repost, copy, modify, or translate.

taglist;

@sunflowertingzzzz, @k0z3me, @mollzaj, @mixzimi, @chiefinvestigatoremma, @evieskibidi, @7nknown

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[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

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12 Fics of Christmas Day 1 - Peter Maximoff

"The Best Gift"

Words: 1.1k

Summary: Peter wants to get reader a present for Christmas that he earned himself.

WARNINGS: light swearing

Target in the 80s

____

Everyone knew Peter was a huge klepto. 

At first, people assumed it was just because he was an attention whore who craved the interactions that came with his constant thievery. But Y/N was beginning to believe it was just a desire he could not control. 

But then Christmas was rolling around and he made it his mission to get Y/N a present the honorable way. No stealing involved. He wanted to earn the present to give it to her.

The question was… how the hell do you get money? 

“A job?” Alex had deadpanned when Peter complained about his predicament. That had made the speedster gasp in complete horror. A job? Working?

That was downright awful. 

“You walk around a few neighborhoods with an empty can asking for spare change?” Alex had tried again, bored with the conversation. 

“That’s so pathetic,”

Alex had then put down his game controller, giving Peter a look, “Get a friggin job, dude,”

Work? Peter Maximoff? The concept sounded both foreign and terrible. He liked how things were now. He went to school (sometimes), he hung out with his hot girlfriend (all the time), he played video games (also all the time), and he was happy like that. 

The thought of taking up some of his precious time doing labor was awful. Absolutely terrible idea. Peter Maximoff would never be caught working some measly job for some measly paycheck.

Anyway… he got a job at Target. 

And he hated it. 

Scrubbing toilets, cleaning spill ups in different aisles, trying to count change as fast as possible while the customers complained and their babies cried, dealing with angry buyers. He was not meant to deal with the stress. 

Currently, he was re-organizing a shelf that he had just fixed up a few minutes ago, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He suppressed a grimace, turning his head to speak to the customer, “How can I help you-?” he paused, eyes lighting up when he noticed who had touched him. 

Y/N!

“Loving the customer service voice,” she mused, laughing when he threw his arms around her. 

“Save me from this cursed place,” Peter mumbled dramatically into her neck.

Y/N laughed, pulling away to fix his uniform, “Also loving the uniform.” His uniform consisted of a crisp ironed white button down and black tie accompanied by a red vest. Lastly were a pair of navy jeans and his converse, kind of throwing off the professional look. 

“Save meeee,” he repeated, trying to pull her back. 

“You’re the one who wanted a job so suddenly,” she pointed with a playful eye roll, “What was the reason for this again?”

“Um,” he bit his bottom lip, scratching the back of his neck, “I was bored…?”

“Uhuh…” she didn’t believe him at all, but let him be, “You look cute in your uniform,”

Peter blushed, looking down at himself. He thought he looked stupid. “Of course I do. I look cute in everything,” he decided to reply. 

“That you do,” she grinned, cupping his cheeks and giving him a quick kiss, “Take it easy, baby. I’ll see you after your shift ends?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed with a small smile, leaning in for another kiss.

Y/N, being the bully she was, backed away, “You’ll get another after your shift!” he pouted as she skipped off, not running after her. He obviously could catch up to her if he wanted to, but he knew he needed to lock in if he wanted to keep this job and get enough money for her Christmas present. 

So he went back to re-organizing the shelf, using that super speed of his to his advantage. He grinned in victory once he finished (in two seconds), that smile fading as his walkie roared to life.

“Clean up on aisle C37.” 

Stupid shit.

____

It was six a.m. on Christmas day when Y/N had woken up to the sound of knocking on the door to her dorm room. She groaned, pulling her blanket over her head and ignoring the knock.

Which continued. 

“I’m going to kill someone today,” she grumbled, stumbling out of bed and shuffling into her slippers, making her way to the door. She didn’t even bother checking the peephole, opening the door, “What the hell do-?”

“Merry Christmas!” Peter shouted excitedly, beaming at her with a terribly wrapped present in his hands. The wrapping paper was of sharks eating pizza, all crumbled up and almost unnoticeable. There was a bow right on top, and red color that certainly didn't match the wrapping paper choice.

It was adorable.

“For me?” Y/N rasped out, still tired and a bit delirious. She then realized she must look crazy, so she began smoothing down her hair.

Peter nodded, excitement evident in his body language, he was practically buzzing. “Yes! Open open open!” he shoved the gift into her hands.

“Well come inside first,” she laughed quietly, stepping out of the way so he could enter her dorm. He zoomed in, sitting on her bed as he waited for her to open the gift. Y/N took a seat next to him, unwrapping the gift. Inside was a velvet box, which she opened.

A silver necklace, adorned with little diamonds and a pendant. A locket! With a smile, Y/N opened it, eyes brightening seeing a small picture of them together inside. “This is so beautiful, baby, thank you!” 

“I didn't steal it!” He said proudly, “I bought it myself!”

“Really?” She was touched, arms going around him for a hug, “Is that why you were working at Target?”

“Yes,” he hugged her back tightly, “I wanted to work for your gift."

"That's so sweet," she pressed a few kisses to the side of his face, making him giggle. He coughed, trying to hide the sound that just left him.

"I decided to not quit, surprisingly,” he said, trying to change the subject slightly.

“Whoa, really?” Y/N asked in curiosity, “Why?”

Peter shrugged softly, “Thought I could use some responsibility in my life.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my Peter?” Y/N joked, pinching his cheek, “I'm proud of you, baby.” Holding out the box, she asked: “Put it on?”

He nodded enthusiastically, taking the necklace out. Y/N held up her hair as he put the necklace on her, doing the clasp before leaning in and kissing her neck, then shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Peter,” she smiled, standing up and grabbing a present from her desk, “here,” she held it out, “A gift for my favorite gift,”

He blushed at being referred to as her favorite gift. 

How the hell did he get so lucky?

___

tags: @envy-of-greed @bohnerrific69 let me know if you want to be removed or added