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lincolndjarin · 11 months ago

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Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging.

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim.

“My entire Christmas bonus.”

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh.

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this.

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work.

“Please, Steve.”

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours.

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process.

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away.

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today.

Javier P.

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office.

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with.

Every single woman, except you.

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner.

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be.

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo.

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed.

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk.

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her.

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs.

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails.

Red chipped paint.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway.

Probably.

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you?

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless.

Stupid fucking Peña.

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though.

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap.

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday.

Jesus.

You know way too much about him.

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails.

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette.

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night.

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower.

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt.

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes.

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected.

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses.

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours.

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt.

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach.

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation.

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie.

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier.

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up.

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift.

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things.

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away.

Javier traded for your name?

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting.

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again.

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident.

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend.

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people.

Javier’s office.

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand.

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him.

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult.

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab.

What a foolish question.

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home.

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall.

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow.

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out.

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends.

“So this is about the secret Santa.”

Of course he wouldn’t get it.

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him.

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first.

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms.

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide.

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye.

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night.

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.”

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go.

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you.

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole.

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth.

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts.

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt.

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment.

Jesus you’re soaked.

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him.

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here.

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock.

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission.

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you.

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor.

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk.

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time.

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning.

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk.

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while.

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin.

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss.

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait.

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier.

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting.

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

#pedrostoriesgift23 #lincolndjarin #taro-666 <3 #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

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woso-dreamzzz · 8 months ago

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Accident II

Pernille Harder x Child!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö + Ingrid Engen x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Potty training at Wolfsburg

“This,” Moster Frido says to you,” Is a potty.”

You blink at her, sitting on the floor of the Wolfsburg break room. You go back to playing with your toys.

“Hey! This is important!” Frido says, trying to draw your attention back but you keep ignoring her.

“She’s not stupid,” Pernille laughs from the sofa,” She knows what the potty is. She has one at home.”

“Well, now she’s got one here too.” She whistles like you’re a dog but you still don’t give her the time of day, instead standing up and wandering over to where Ingrid is on the phone with her mother.

You pull on her shorts and she hefts you up onto her hip without question.

“I thought you were trying to potty train her,” Frido complains,” You can’t do it just at home, you know.”

Pernille rolls her eyes. “One step at a time, Frido. It might freak her out a little to do it here. We’re taking it at her pace.”

Frido huffs but drops her questioning as you play with the ends of Ingrid’s hair. Your girl-swan hangs in your other hand and you swing it around as Ingrid talks.

Your potty training has been slow going. Sometimes you just refuse to cooperate even when Pernille swaps your nappies for pullups. You just don’t want to use the potty sometimes.

But she can see you start wriggling in Ingrid’s arms and she knows if you were standing then you’d be doing your potty dance. She sighs, standing up and grabbing the potty Frido had bought for you.

“Princesse,” She calls and you turn your head to look at her (much to Frido’s annoyance),” Do you need to use the potty?”

You think for a moment. “No, Momma.”

“I think you do.”

“No.”

Pernille sighs and Ingrid instantly offers you to her. You whine when you’re transferred to Pernille, reaching to grab onto Ingrid, who you know won’t force you to use the potty.

You don’t like using the potty at training. You don’t know why but you just don’t. You don’t really like using it at home either but Momma told you all big girls use the potty and you really want to be a big girl in time for Morsa's next visit even though you’re still little and everyone is taller than you.

“Yes.”

Momma takes you into the toilets and sets your potty down in there. You feel better now that you don't have to go potty in front of moster Frido and Ingrid. Thinking about going potty in front of them makes you shy and makes your tummy go all wavy.

You don’t like the potty much at all but you like it better when there’s no one but Momma helping you go.

You still don’t like it though.

It becomes a bit of a joke around the Wolfsburg girls in the following weeks. Your refusal to use the potty unless Pernille makes you is a bit funny.

Whenever she asks, you gain the biggest pout and you whine and try to fight it until she plucks you from where you’re sitting and takes you to the toilets. She tries to set you on a proper toilet a few times but you’re still very little and you cry because it feels like you’re about to fall in.

Momma never tries that again.

But she does keep insisting on the potty whenever she can. Sometimes you can get away with it but as soon as she notices your potty dance, it’s straight to the potty with little fanfare.

You think you can get away with it today.

Momma’s in interviews all day so you’re sitting in the break room with Frido and Ingrid. Ingrid’s nice, you decide. She’s not Swedish like your moster and Morsa and she’s not Danish like Momma is. She’s Norwegian which is near Sweden and Denmark, she tells you, so she speaks Norwegian which is kind of similar to your other languages so when she speaks it, you can still kind of understand what she’s saying.

Ingrid’s nice though or, she was until she notices your potty dance.

“Do you need to go to the toilet, y/n?” She asks sweetly and you freeze where you’re sitting playing with your toys.

You shake your head.

“Are you sure?”

You nod.

“Okay, then.”

For some reason, Momma’s put you in big girl underwear today. She doesn’t usually but she has today and that’s a little weird but Momma says you’re growing up now and you assume wearing big girl underwear is part of that.

Ingrid doesn’t mention the potty again even though you keep wiggling around as you do your potty dance. She just lets you keep playing.

Moster Frido is the one that mentions it though.

She sees your potty dance too.

“Are you definitely sure you don’t need the potty?” She asks you and you shake your head again.

“No potty, moster,” You say even though your wiggling is getting more and more aggressive. You don’t want to use the potty at training. Potties are only for at home, you decide.

“Okay,” She says. She stands and your eyes follow her to the sink. She turns on the tap, leaning against the counter.

The water pours into the sink and moster Frido looks at you.

You look away but the running water makes your potty dance worse. You’re not wearing a nappy or a pull up and you don’t want Momma to get mad at you for having an accident in your big girl underwear.

Ingrid crouches in front of you and you look at her with wide eyes. She’s got a packet of your favourite mini skildpadder. Momma says you’re two little for sweeties but Momma's Momma came over from Denmark to visit and she bought those for you. You love them so Momma usually packs a few in your training bag for when you’ve been very good.

“It looks like you really need the potty,” She tells you, drawing the skildpadder away from you when you try to reach for it,” Why don’t you let Frido take you to the toilet, you go to the potty and you can have this when you get back?”

You think for a moment, trying to reach for it again but Ingrid keeps it from your grasp and your potty dance gets even worse.

“Do you need the potty?” Frido asks sweetly and your cheeks puff out in annoyance.

“Ja, moster.”

She grins at you. “Perfect.” She scoops you up and hurriedly walks you to the toilets where she puts down your potty and helps you pull down your special Wolfsburg shorts.

You are happy that she doesn’t watch you go, turning around to face the door and make sure no one else comes in.

She helps you get properly dressed again and walks you back to the break room. “I’m very proud of you,” She praises as she walks back,” You’re such a big girl now.”

You feel a little shy at that, feeling all mushy and warm that Frido thinks you’re a big girl. When you really miss Morsa, when she’s away with her blue team in London, you like to be with moster Frido. She’s not Morsa but she kind of is sometimes. Not in the ways that Morsa is your Morsa but you can close your eyes and have Frido talk to you in Swedish and it’s kind of like having Morsa with you.

“All good?” Ingrid asks as you both come back in and Frido nods.

Ingrid passes you your skildpadder and you tear into it until it’s all gone. That makes you a little sad but Ingrid and Frido join you on the floor with your toys and you feel better again.

“How about this,” Ingrid says as she plays,” For every time you use the potty at training, you can have a skildpadder? Does that sound good?”

It does sound good. You don’t get to eat them often but you know if Ingrid makes a convincing argument then Momma can’t do anything about it. You tell Ingrid as such and she and Frido both laugh.

“So it’s a deal then, is it, little monster?” Frido asks and you nod.

“Deal!”

“You have to shake on a deal.” She offers you her hand and you shake it eagerly.

You think for a moment. “Potty again, please?”

Ingrid and Frido both laugh.

“Maybe wait until you actually need it again. The skildpadder aren’t going anywhere.”

#woso x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #the big adventures universe

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moonstruckme · 10 days ago

Note

I love your headcanons of Tasm!Peter x chubby reader on a fall day, and I was wondering if you’d consider doing something similar but during winter/Christmas? I understand if not, because the headcannons were part of a follower celebration! Or maybe a fic with Peter and reader at a Christmas market? Sending you air kisses! 💋

Thanks for requesting lovely! I didn't really find ways to make this explicitly chubby reader but as always you're welcome to imagine her with any body type you like. Air kisses back! <3

cw: reader has hair long enough to put up/pull back

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 665 words

Peter finds himself obsessed with your ears. You’ve forgone a hat and your hair is up, but you seem overall less concerned with the crisp wind than Peter is. Every time you stop in a stall, his hands come up over your ears, trying to coax warmth into them. You’re more or less ignoring him.

“We should get you some earmuffs,” Peter says while you peruse a vendor’s selection of ornaments.

“Why, when I have you?”

“Rude.” He pinches the top of your ear. “I’m good for more than that.”

You step to the side, and Peter follows dutifully, not making his point very well.

“You’re the one who wants to do this,” you argue good naturedly. “My ears are fine. Also, we’re supposed to be finding things for other people, not ourselves.”

Peter lifts one hand away from your ear, blowing hot air into his cupped hand. You jump and squeal, ticklish, apologizing hastily to the vendor when she looks your way.

“Stop that,” you hiss at Peter, face still warm with the echo of your smile. When you take his hands and use them to pull him closer Peter doesn’t resist, his arms draping over your shoulders and his front against your back.

He kisses your cheek complaisantly. “If I bought them for you they wouldn’t be for myself.”

“Peter. Focus.” You hold up a small ornament. “Do you think your aunt would like this? She really likes elephants, right?”

“She does,” Peter allows, “but she’s got, like, ten jillion elephant ornaments already.”

You frown. “Do you think that means she might want more?”

He weighs this. “Maybe. Her tree’s gonna collapse, though.”

“This one’s light. It won’t be our fault.” You hold onto the ornament. Peter grins and smushes his lips to your face again. You squeeze his hands, turning your face like you’re going to kiss him but stopping when something catches your eye. “Oh.” Your voice bends with adoration. “Look at this.”

You reach out to pull an ornament off the wall. It’s a small wooden bird, intricate, with strings attached to its wings and belly. Its body has been painted with tiny, meticulous brushstrokes to give it feathers of various colors. You pull gently on the string, and its wings move up and down.

“That is cool,” Peter says.

You’re charmed, eyes soft and happy. It’s the way you look out the window when it’s snowing or at dogs walking past you on the street. “It’s so lovely.”

Peter has the urge to kiss you silly. “It is.”

“Do we know anyone that would want this?”

“You, obviously.”

You give Peter a sideways smile paired with a playful glare. “Anyone else.”

He hugs you close, mouth pulling to one side as he thinks. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, it’s really cool, but I don’t know anyone who would like it as much as you.”

You pull the string again, watching the wooden bird’s wings flap ruefully. Peter knows you’ll never get it for yourself.

“Hey,” he says, “let’s go get some shitty hot chocolate. I’m freezing.”

Your smile renews. “You are not.”

“Fine, you got me. I want to get you a hot chocolate because I’m worried your face is gonna freeze. Please?”

“Okay.” You return the ornament to its hook, dotting a kiss on Peter’s cheek and gathering up the ones you’ve already decided to get. “Let me just buy these and we can go.”

You know your boyfriend well enough to be suspicious of him. You keep a close eye on Peter as you pay for your gifts, chatting with the vendor and beaming when she gives you a little pouch with a ribbon for each one. He smiles guilelessly and lets you take him by the hand to pull him with you out of the stall.

Fortunately, Peter is quicker than you give him credit for. His cash is on the counter and your ornament safely in his pocket before you turn the corner.

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nocasdatsgay · 9 months ago

Text

Now Behave

Pairing: Azriel/Eris/F-Reader| Rated: E | Word Count: 4253

Neapolitan Bonds masterlist here

Summary: Sequel to Be Good. Azriel gets his punishment for misbehaving

CW: Rope play, fire play, shadow play, edging, P in V sex, face fucking, spanking/impact play, aftercare, use of y/n, mild daddy kink, unbetaed, Dom!Eris, Bratty!Az

A/N: I hope this lives up to the hype. Minors look away. If i missed a warning let me know

Read here on ao3 |Read Be Good | Read Below

You sat pretty on the brown couch in the playroom, with nothing but your red silk nightgown on while Eris tied up Azriel in similar colored rope. Az was stripped and kneeled on the long cushion across from you. His wings were relaxed, partly spread on the rug. Eris tied the ropes in a similar fashion that had been on you before: a basic harness. Az’s hands were tied behind his back and the ropes came around to his chest. You noticed immediately how the rope emphasized his pecs. If you could touch him you’d be on your knees licking up his chest.

“Do you know why I’m tying you up?” Eris asked, tugging on the front binds and ensuring they weren’t too tight.

“Yea,” Az grumbled back.

“And why is that?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris reached down and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. “Why is it?”

Az glared at him. “Because someone’s a bitch who couldn’t handle a little teasing.”

Your eyes widened and you were so sure Eris would slap him. He didn’t. Instead he let go and walked over to the dresser at the back wall. He pulled out a silk cloth and came back to tie it around Azriel’s mouth.

“You were a brat yesterday and a very bad boy. You not only distracted me while working, you edged y/n seven times that I counted through the bond. Which is well past her limit and what I originally asked of you.”

“Seven?” You gasped. You squeezed your thighs together out of reflex. “Azriel!”

You didn’t think he edged you that much. But you were so far gone you weren’t counting. Your limit was five and that was over the course of hours. How you hadn’t cum on accident was a miracle. Az wouldn’t look at you. He simply scowled and stared at the carpet.

“So now,” Eris stepped back and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “You’re going to sit there and think about what you did. I’m going to play with our mate and when we’re done, I’m going to show you what it’s like to be edged seven times.”

Az kept his stony expression but you could feel through the bond his worry- and his anticipation. Even if you didn’t want to, you shut the bond down. Whatever happened next, Az wasn’t allowed to feel. That was one of the rules agreed upon. You glanced up when Eris came up to you and he reached out, gently tilting your head up by your chin. Your eyes followed to look up at his amber ones.

“What do you want?”

“I want you in my mouth.”

He hummed. “Up.”

He let you go and you almost leaped off the couch. Your eyes quickly grazed over him, want twisted in the pit of your stomach. You hadn’t fully taken in what he was wearing, too focused on Azriel. He was wearing a tight green button up in a style you hadn’t seen before with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Newer pants with buttons instead of laces. Every inch of him radiated High Lord even without traditional Autumn clothing. He sat on the couch and you sank down into your knees between his legs.

“These are new,” you whispered, reaching out and tracing where his cock strained against the buttons.

“A gift.” You tilted your head at him. He sighed. “From the human lands.”

Ah. You knew instantly why he didn’t elaborate further. You nodded and leaned up to undo the buttons. You wasted no time pushing up his shirt and pulling out his cock to stroke it. A long time ago, you’d be ashamed at how your mouth watered and slickness gathered on your thighs from just thinking about taking him in your mouth. Instead you just leaned in and licked the underside of him before taking him into your mouth.

“That’s a good girl,” he sighed, hands immediately going into your hair.

There was no rush. You lazily bobbed your head, your tongue stroking around every inch you could take without gagging. The bond between you hummed with contentment. You were so focused you almost didn’t notice a cool stroke on your exposed leg. You felt it again you stopped and glanced up at Eris. He grinned at you, tugging the bond. You pulled back and turned around to glare at Az.

“Keep your shadows to yourself,” you said sternly.

The shadow on your leg slinked away. Az’s eyebrows shot up and he shrunk back on his knees. Eris didn’t hold back his laugh and you knew Az was likely stewing in embarrassment. He hated being ignored but hated being chastised more. You heard him whine as you decided to climb onto Eris’s lap. Warm hands rubbed your thighs while you straddled him and reached between you to guide yourself onto him.

“Oh Eris,” you gasped loudly on purpose as you sank down onto his cock.

You loved sitting on his lap, his length filling you perfectly each time. You gave yourself a second to adjust. Eris pulled at your gown, tugging it up to your waist. You knew it was so Az could watch.

“Take what you need, love.”

You placed one hand by Eris’s head on the couch and leaned in to press your lips to his. His mouth parted to let your tongue in and you moaned into his mouth as you lifted your hips and sank back down again. His warm hands drifted to your rear, groping and squeezing while you found your rhythm.

You shifted your knees just a little bit further apart to be able to sink down farther. You pulled away to moan when his cock hit that sweet spot. He didn’t stop you as you moved faster and dropped down harder. Your forehead pressed against his and he whispered soft words of encouragement. In turn your moans grew louder. The strap of your gown fell down the arm you were now using to undo the buttons on his shirt.

“So good for me, princess.” His voice was haggard. He pushed down the strap more and cupped your breast, his thumb circling your nipple. “Can you cum for me like this?”

“Yes,” you gasped. You were so close.

“Do that for me, love.”

Just enough of a High Lord command laced in his statement that your body responded. You were vocal as you came apart, knees squeezing against Eris’s thighs while you pulsed around him. You slowed your movements and eventually fell onto Eris, burying your face against his neck while you came down. You caught your breath, his sweet scent calming you.

“You did so well,” he muttered, a hand slipping up your back to caress your skin.

You finally sighed and moved off him. The first thing you noticed was how hard he felt as you lifted off of him.

“Er,” you glanced down, frowning. He hadn’t cum.

“I have plans, princess.”

That grin was wicked. You had a feeling even in the hazy warmth of a good climax what he was planning. You knew it had everything to do with your mate sitting pretty across the room. Sure enough Eris trained his eyes on Az, stroking himself. It did not escape you that his cock was covered in you. Eris stood and tugged up his pants enough to walk over to where Az was waiting. You moved down the couch to get a better view.

“I’m going to take this off,” Eris tugged at the silk gag off and tossed it to the floor. “And I’m going to use your mouth since that’s all it’s good for. You even get a taste of y/n as a treat. Your shadows are going to stroke you until I’m done and you cannot cum. Understood?”

Az glared up at Eris. He didn’t reply; merely opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He must have tugged on the bond; since Eris mumbled something you couldn’t hear when he stepped closer to push his cock into Az’s mouth.

You opened up your bond to Az. Just because he couldn’t feel your pleasure, didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his. Your eyes widened a little as a wave of warmth hit you. From the way Az acted you thought he would be fighting it internally.

You curled up on the couch and watched while Eris fucked Az’s mouth. You committed every second to memory- it wasn’t often Az was the one submitting completely like this. And by the gods he was pretty under the fae lights, eyes glazed over while tears ran down his cheeks. You hazard a guess that it was more from the shadows ghosting along his cock than the one in his mouth.

Your eyes trailed over to Eris. You didn’t miss how he was constantly touching Az; brushing his hair back, fingers smoothing his brows and dipping down to wipe tears away. It was a stark contrast to the rough way he was thrusting into Az’s mouth and throat. You could feel through his bond that he was close.

As you expected, Az gagged when Eris gripped his hair, pulling him down all the way. Eris’s head fell back and he groaned as his came down your mate’s throat, holding him there until you felt Eris’s pleasure subside through the bond.

“So you can behave,” Eris said, panting, pulling out Azriel’s mouth. “Stop your shadows.”

Shadows scuttled away from Azriel’s hard cock. You watched Eris tuck himself back into his trousers, moving buttons into place while Az caught his breath. Eris pulled out a cloth from his back pocket and wiped the drool off of Az’s chin.

“That was one,” he said, tilting Az’s head up. “Six more to go, only this time you’ll tell us to stop when you feel close. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be using my magic. Is that okay?”

“Yea.”

There was no change in how Az felt through the bond. Which meant he was truthful. Eris went to fix the buttons on his shirt as he walked back to the couch. When he sat down he patted beside him, wanting you to scoot over to him. As you did, he threw out his hand, flames with no heat immediately circling Az’s cock. He gasped but otherwise didn’t speak.

He turned on the couch as you crawled over so you could lay against his chest. You sighed and stretched your legs out while he wrapped his arms around you. He started to play with your hair and you were both silent. You almost fell asleep from how comfortable you were, if it hadn’t been for Az.

“Stop,” Az gasped.

You jolted, blinking. Eris called back his flames.

“Two,” Eris said with a drawl of emphasized boredom.

You knew exactly the game they were now playing. Not even a minute passed and flames went back to Az. You swore you heard him whine.

“Do you want to talk about why you disobeyed and embarrassed me yesterday?” Eris asked, he twisted his hand and the flames moved faster.

“I,” Az's body shuttered. “You don’t own me.”

You sighed. “Az, why did you disobey daddy?”

That was the first time you’d spoken to him softly since this started. And that seemed too much for him.

“Stop,” Az sobbed and the magic disappeared.

“That’s only three,” Eris said, shaking his head. “And so much quicker than the first two. Four more to go. Unless you want to talk?”

The look Az shot Eris would have set him on fire if he had those powers. Flames returned again. You thought about using your own magic but you didn’t have permission. This was between Az and Eris.

He seemed to last longer this time, be it from stubbornness or how slower the flames moved. You watched him struggle- shifting his knees and scrunching his face until he finally yelled stop again. Flames left just his hard cock that was leaking against his stomach. Gods you wished he hadn’t been a brat so you could put your mouth on him.

“Four. Can you explain yourself or do you want to keep going?”

Eris got up this time and went to him, hands on his hips.

“Give me a second,” Az panted.

“I don’t think you gave y/n a second to breathe. What’s your color?”

“Yellow.”

Az stared at the ground, cheeks darkened. You sent some love through the bond. Az was always difficult about being honest with his head space; him admitting they needed to slow down was a big step.

“Good boy,” Eris ran his hands through Azriel’s hair. “Can you get us some water, princess?”

You nodded and left the room. The water was in your chamber’s sitting room down the hall. It only took you a minute to walk in and pour a glass from the pitcher. It was a mating gift from the Winter High Lord and High Lady. The pitcher and special glasses were spelled to always keep the water cool. You came back to Eris kneeling in front of Az whispering to him. You could feel the embarrassment Az was feeling in the bond.

“Eris be nice,” you chastised, holding out the glass.

“I am, that’s the problem. Isn't it my star?” Love laced Eris’s tone. “Baby boy can’t take a compliment.”

“Shut up,” Az grumbled.

Eris simply grinned and held the glass to his lips. Az eagerly took the water, draining the glass quickly before turning and gasping. Eris handed you the glass back.

“Is that enough or do you want more?”

“ ‘M fine.”

“We’ll continue then.”

Eris went towards the couch and in a hurry, you winnowed to the sitting room to put the glass down and winnowed back. You could feel Eris laughing at you through the bond. That reminded you to make sure your bond shut to Az again. Eris grinned at you and gestured you over. This time you sat in his lap. He hummed as you draped yourself on him and pulled you close. Eris sent out his flames and Az moaned. You tried to not look, burying your face into the curve of Eris’s neck while his hand slipped between your legs. You squeezed your thighs around his hand.

You whimpered. “Sensitive.”

“You only came once, baby,” Eris said with a chuckle and pushed a finger up between your folds to graze against your clit. “I think you can give me another.”

You shifted without thinking to spread your legs just a bit farther apart. Your breath quickened when he started moving his fingers just the way you liked it.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Can you cum before Az asks to stop?”

“Yea.” You kissed his neck.

“You’re so messy.” He moved his fingers faster. “I can feel you dripping on my pants.”

You keened and to keep from yelling starting sucking that spot near his jaw you knew he liked. You were rewarded with a groan and you felt him start to harden again in his pants. You wanted to draw it out but Eris knew you too well. One shift of his fingers, and you pulled back gasping. You came, clenching on nothing while he rubbed you through it. He pulled his hand back and held it to your mouth.

“Open.”

You obliged and he stuck his fingers in your mouth. You hummed, tasting yourself on them and licked them clean. You almost forgot Az was kneeling across from you.

“Fuck stop. I-” he gasped.

You jerked your head away and Eris pulled back the flames but Az still cursed. A moment later, he groaned when his hips jerked as he came.

Oh no.

You moved off Eris immediately. He stood and magicked the mess away while Az hung his head panting.

“I didn’t tell you to come. You couldn’t even make it past five,” Eris looked down at him, frowning. “Pathetic. Guess we should start over.”

“I can’t.” Tears fell down his cheeks.

“You can’t? Or you won’t? Can’t isn’t our safeword.”

Azriel whined. You looked around the room quickly and an idea came to you. You tugged on the bond to Eris. He turned towards you.

“Suggestions?”

“Maybe instead he can choose a different punishment?”

Eris crossed his arms and watched you go to the wall with the toys. You picked up the paddle and the flogger. Az always liked the flogger more but you were lenient. You walked up to Az and held them out. His shadows swirled around the paddle. You then turned and handed it to Eris.

“Our mate is too kind to you, my star.” He said to Az. “Is this what you want?” Az nodded. “You’ll count; four hits. One for coming when I didn’t tell you to. Three for the rest of the ones you skipped just now.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to stand or lean on the couch?”

“Stand.” Az muttered. “Wings are stiff.”

Eris grabbed the front of the harness and lifted Az up like he weighed nothing. Of course that did something for you. He brought Az over to the middle of the room. Az let his wings flare out damn near reaching the ceiling. You opened the bond and you could feel the relief coming off him. Eris waited until his wings relaxed and went around him. You hated that you couldn’t see what Eris was doing, but a soft push from the bond told you he wanted Az facing you.

“I’m going to hold you in place and after a hit I want you to say what number you’re on. If you lose count, we start over.”

“Yes sir.” Az stared at the ground.

Eris moved to the left and you saw the swing of the paddle. The smack was loud and Az’s back arched from the hit.

“One,” he gasped.

Eris may as well hit you also for how it shot through you. You moaned, heat flaring between your legs. You couldn’t help it. Eris leaned around to look at you with a dark grin on his face.

“This is new,” Eris ran his gaze over you. “Do you like watching your sir get punished, princess?”

“Yes.” No sense in lying when he could smell you.

Az groaned, his cock jumping against his stomach. Eris must have done something. You could smell Az’s scent become thicker in the air and it made your own core throb.

“Show us,” Eris said. “Show us how hot it makes you to see Az take his punishment.”

“Yes, daddy.”

You settled back on the couch, spreading your legs and propping on foot up on the cushions. Your fingers dipped between your legs and Eris grabbed Azriel’s chin, forcing him to look.

“See that, my star? You could be fucking her right now but you were a brat. Now our princess has to take care of herself.”

Az whined watching you dip your fingers into your cunt. Gods you wanted this to be over. That’s what you focused on while you touched yourself. Maybe tomorrow if Az wasn’t sore you’d both stay in bed. You weren’t even paying attention until you heard the smack and Az count to two. You clenched around your fingers at the noise. The third smack, you squealed, almost coming on your fingers and Az yelled three.

“One more.” Eris whispered. “What’s your color?”

“Green, so fuckin green.” Az panted. He always liked pain the best.

“Don’t you dare cum,” you heard Eris hissed in his ear. “I know you’re thinking about it.”

Indeed, his cock was hard and red again against his stomach. You bit your lip and pulled your fingers out to swirl them on your clit. You looked up to see Az staring you in the eyes.

“I promise.”

You held his gaze as your breath quickened. You opened the bond a little. Your eyes fluttered; Az was definitely riding a high right now. Your gaze went to where Eris was and had stepped back. Your eyes went back to Az’s while the paddle came down.

He yelled; you gasped, coming again for the third time that night.

“Four.” Az sighed.

“Now have we learned our lesson?” Eris asked, dragging his hand along the rope so he could walk in front of Az without letting go for too long.

“Yes, daddy,” Az muttered.

You stood on shaky legs and walked up to them.

“Can I?” You held up your fingers.

Eris chuckled. “Of course, filthy girl.”

You stuck your wet fingers into Azriel’s mouth and he moaned around them. His tongue licked them clean. You pulled them back quickly.

“That’s all you’re getting.”

Az hummed in response, gaze glossy. Eris hand you the paddle. You took it and went to wipe it down while he began to undo the ropes.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Eris wrapped the silk rope around his hand as he went.

“Bath,” Az grumbled. “I want a bath. Please.”

“Can you sit?” You asked.

You put the paddle away and came up to him. You rubbed his freed arm and wrist while Eris untied the other side.

“That was nothing.” He gave you his signature smirk.

“We will put balm on you after a bath.” Eris replied, matter of fact. “Take him while I put these away.”

You nodded and looped your arm around him. Shadows now flurried around you and you giggled a little when they brushed up against your cheeks. They too, seemed happy they could touch you again. Walk to the bath was short; you used your magic to turn on the water and stop the drain. Az didn’t say anything while the bath filled. You helped him in after grabbing a towel and sitting it on the ledge. He stopped you when you went to pull your gown off.

“If you get in with me, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

You pouted, and pointed to the spot in front of you. “Even I sit over here?”

Az groaned and slid down the side to lower his wings in the water farther. You noticed his shadows seemed to be hiding- or resting out of sight. Then you smelt Eris before you heard him walk in.

“We can bathe later,” he said, coming up behind you and pulling you in to kiss the top of your head. “Our star needs a reward for behaving.”

Az opened one eye, squinting. “Don’t tease me daddy.”

“You still said it, willingly I might add.” Eris retorted.

“Wet your hair,” you pulled from Eris and walked to the right side of the bath. “I’ll wash it.”

Az grumbled but dunked his head under. You sat on the ledge and grabbed the shampoo, pouring some in your hand before you started running your fingers through his hair. He groaned again and leaned back, letting you slowly massage his scalp. Eris walked around and sat on the left side.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“Yea.” There was silence and finally Az sighed. “I’m sorry for showing out yesterday.”

“Hmmm, and what made you do that?”

You muttered to Az you were going to rinse his hair and you used one of the small pitchers, water pouring over his head and washing the suds away. You grabbed a cloth and soap and started washing his shoulders. You were careful to not touch his wings.

“Rhys was here and-“ he stopped when he noticed you stilled your hand. “I just mean I knew he was here and, I don’t know.” You tugged the bond gently and went back to washing him.

Eris sighed heavily. “Azriel.”

“I’m sorry.” Az hung his head and stared at the water. You rinsed his back and gestured him to lean back. “I wasn’t thinking about his visit being work. I just wanted to show off.”

“Show off?” You tilted your head.

His cheeks darkened under your scrutiny while you scrubbed his chest. You instantly realized this had more to do with Az and Eris’s history than your own.

“I’m all for being territorial and showing off the effects you have on me, but there is a time and place for it,” Eris said sternly. “I forgive you. But if it happens again, I won’t just be punishing you for fun. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, I’m still a new High Lord in their eyes. That type of bratty behavior in the wrong situation can have dire consequences.”

“I know.” You both heard Az’s voice crack.

“My star,” Eris reached out and cupped Az’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed back.

You leaned in and kissed his other cheek. “Let’s finish cleaning you up. Then we can go to bed.”

Eris caught your eye as you leaned back. “I think you should go ahead and bathe also. Two birds, two stones or whatever Lucien heard those humans say.”

“I think I agree.”

You suppressed your grin, dropping the cloth in the waters and pulling off your gown. You climbed into the bath with Az. Eris left to get ready for bed and you took your time finishing cleaning Az and yourself. You both spent a little bit longer in the bath than needed. Mostly lazy kissing and you muttering how much you loved him while the shadows returned and darted around you both. A light tug in your chest made you sigh.

“Eris says we’re taking too long.” Az grunted in response. “Let's get out and go to bed.”

Az sighed. “Okay.”

Tagging: @hieragalbatorixdottir

#eris vanserra #acotar x reader #eris x reader #eris x azriel #eris x Azriel x reader #Neapolitan bonds #three way mating bond #azriel acotar #azriel gets his punishment #dom!eris vanserra #bratty bottom Az #high lord eris #acotar #pro eris vanserra #pro azriel

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damiansgoodgirll · 2 months ago

Text

decided to put this four requests together as they were kinda similar and i had an interesting idea! hope you don’t mind!

damian priest x reader / rhea ripley x reader (platonic) / the judgment day x reader (platonic) / jey uso x sister reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ brief mention of panic attack, typical wwe violence, angsty and some feels

i’ll look after you

you were currently stressing backstage because your brother had an important match later that night and he wanted you there to support him. it was probably the only monday off of raw that you had and yet, your older brother insisted that you were there for him.

but now you were completely paralysed in front of the small tv screen in your locker room as you saw your best friend rhea and your crush damian priest getting destroyed by the new judgment day.

it was okay until the five of them attacked rhea’s injured leg and damian tried to shield her with his bigger body.

“oh my…” your brain went in autopilot mode. you had to do something. you ran out of the room, ignoring your brother’s calls and sprinted towards the arena.

everyone cheered when they saw you, making the judgment day stop their actions. even if you wanted, you knew that you wouldn’t have been able to stop them. it was you against all of them. that’s when liv got out of the ring and faced you. you had a dark smirk on your face that made liv shiver and before dom or anyone else could do something to stop you, you grabbed her hair a shoved her against the metallic stairs, making her yelp in pain.

dom saw that and while finn and the rest of the team continued their beating on damian, liv was crying on the ground, making dom shove you to the side so he could help her out.

jey saw everything from his changing room. and when he saw dom putting his hands on you, he couldn’t stay there and watch, he knew he had to do something. so he grabbed the first chair he could find and he run towards the ring, making everyone stop their actions on damian.

when the group left, smirking as if they won, you joined your brother inside the ring. you saw him holding rhea’s hand, comforting her and whispering soft words as she was in very much pain. your attention went to damian, who was clearly in pain too.

“hey��” you knelt down next to him “you’re okay…i promise you” you took his face into your hands and gently caressed his cheeks “i’m here…we’re gonna help you…”

“y/n…” damian’s broken voice called you “you shouldn’t have put your health at risk for us”

“i wanted to…” damian looked into your eyes as you said those words, seeing how genuine you were being.

“you’re crazy hermosa…” he whispered, making you chuckle a little. with his face still in your hands, damian took that as an opportunity and gently kissed your hands “thank you…this mean so much to me”

“you don’t have to thank me…” you smiled “we are gonna help you…”

and so, while jey was helping rhea, you were trying to keep damian on his feet, aiding him towards the backstage. his hand on your hip made you shiver but that was no time nor place to think about the effect that damian had on you.

you both let them sat while medical staff checked on them.

“what took you so long!” you whispered to your brother, slightly punching him in the stomach.

“woah! calm down sis! i don’t know…i wasn’t thinking when everything happened” he whispered back.

“your girl is getting beaten by five people and you weren’t thinking?”

“she’s not my girl…” he pouted, making you smile.

“yeah sure…” you smirked.

a couple of minutes later, medical staff told you that there were two ambulances waiting for them outside and that you could go with them if you wanted to.

jey wanted to but he had a match later that night so he told that he would have gone after the show, implying that you were free and would have gone with rhea and damian.

you nodded at the medical staff and they let you in the ambulance with damian. rhea was half unconscious and in much more distress that you didn’t want to bother her, knowing that doctors needed to work on her during the ride at the hospital. damian was sat on the stretcher, still in pain but not as bad as rhea was, even if he took more hits than her this time.

you sat next to him as nurses were working on him.

“we have to cut your shirt off sir” one of the nurses told damian. he simply nodded, letting them doing their jobs.

you tried to look away as damian was sitting half naked next to you. he saw how much you blushed and if it wasn’t for the extreme pain he was in, he would have definitely teased you.

he slightly jumped when one of the nurses touched his red and bruised shoulder “we should help you laying down” she said, making the stretcher more comfortable for damian.

as he laid down, he softly took his hand out, sign that he wanted you to hold him. with a soft look in your eyes, you delicately held his hand, whispering soft words to him.

“you’re okay damian…i’m gonna be here all week if needed to” you said chuckling a little “i’m here for you, always”

“thank you…this means so much for me” he whispered back.

once you arrived at the hospital, both ambulances took rhea and damian in emergency care, leaving you behind. the doctors who took care of them told you that you hat to wait outside for further news but your anxiety wasn’t helping. between not knowing how your brother was doing on his match and having your best friend and biggest crush both under observation, all this stress was taking a big toll on you.

you paced around the waiting room for what it felt like hours. people looking at you, some of them understood your position, others were just giving you weird looks.

you needed to have news about damian and rhea as soon as possible or you were going crazy.

a kind nurse offered you a cup of tea and she helped you sat down in one of the empty chairs in the room. she gave you an understanding nod before going back into emergency.

maybe she was right, you needed to calm yourself. but opening twitter wasn’t helping as all you were seeing on your feed were pictures of rhea and jey as they were holding hands and pictures of you and damian sharing sweet and loving looks.

reading the comments, you agreed with the people who said that rhea and jey were a cute couple. but it felt weird to you that people liked you and damian together too. you knew how his fans were protective of him, especially the girlies who never liked seeing him with friends. you were taken aback from those nice comments towards you.

the tea the nurse gave you helped you relax a little as you close your phone and let your eyes rest for a little. unconsciously you fell asleep, too tired of the events of the night.

a comforting hand gently woke you up, touching your shoulder “hey wake up sis…” your big brother jey softly whispered at you as he was sat next to you.

you yawned a little, opening your eyes “jey…”

“you tired?” he asked and you nodded.

“what time is it? it gotta be pretty late if you are already here..”

jey nodded at you “yeah, i finished the match and went straight here”

the match - you thought. the only reason you were at the arena on your monday off “how did it go? i’m so sorry i fell asleep, i wanted to watch it”

“i won” he said with the biggest grin on his face, almost making you jump in your seat.

“no way! i’m so proud of you! you deserve this! now go get your championship!” you whispered try not to scream as it was pretty late and there were other people around you. your little moment of happiness made him smile.

“ma’am?” one of the doctors that had rhea and damian under observation called you, making you and your brother turn your heads “both miss ripley and mister priest are okay” those words brought you and jey a sigh of relief “they are under medication at the moment but you are both free to see them if you want” you nodded and let the doctor show you rhea and damian’s rooms.

you softly opened his hospital room and you saw him sleeping so you didn’t want to wake him up. you tried to be as more silent as possible as you closed the door and took the seat next to his bed.

about ten minutes later damian tiredly opened his eyes, meeting yours “y/n…”

“hey…” you smiled at him “go back to sleep, the doctor said that you need to rest”

“i wanted to thank you” his raspy voice said “for everything you did today, for me and rhea…”

“shhh…you don’t need to do this and you don’t need to do this now” you moved closer to his bed so now you could grab his hands into yours. he looked at you with such tenderness in his eyes that you felt emotional for a second.

“but it’s true…” his voice raspy but soft.

“damian…go back to sleep”

“i will” he laughed “i’m so tired…remind me to thank your bother too”

“he’s with rhea now” you smiled.

“yeah…they would look good together” he had this tired look on his face that made him look even hotter than he was.

“yeah” you agreed with him.

“i feel like we would look good together too” he said, closing his eyes and smiling at you.

you were taken aback from his words, knowing that it probably was the medication speaking but before you could doubt yourself he spoke again “i’m serious y/n…the way you’re always so kind and supportive with me and rhea…the way you came to me first tonight in the ring…thank you”

you unconsciously smiled at his words “we should talk about this once you’re fully conscious”

“oh we will” he chuckled keeping his eyes closed “i think i love you y/n”

you were lucky he had his eyes closed otherwise he would have bursted out laughing at your speechless face.

“i’m serious…” he yawned “the conversation isn’t over”

“okay…” you whispered kissing his hands again “i’ll be here when you wake up, i’ll look after you damian…”

you kept your promise and waited till he was fully recovered. jey checked on him too and he had the biggest smile on his face when you told him about what damian confessed. he was definitely rooting for you two.

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vivalas-vega · 6 months ago

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unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

howdy y'all - we've got another rooster fic. i feel i've neglected this man too much on my blog and wanna start writing for him more so here we are with a fleet week fic inspired by my own journey onto a navy ship yesterday!!! (the similarities between my fic and the real deal start and end with waiting in line. my guide was cute but let's just say he was no bradley bradshaw). it was very cool and educational and if your city does fleet week i highly recommend checking it out! this fic will have maybe three parts total. anyways hope you enjoy :)

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary

word count: 3.2k

warnings: slight language, naval inaccuracies!! (even tho I just did my own fleet week tour I still don't know shit, I'm just a girl)

The ocean breeze filtered through your hair as you stood off to the side, eyes fixated on the impressive carriers in front of you. The sun felt hot on your skin and excitement was buzzing through your veins as you listened to your best friend in your ear… well, half-listened.

“We’re brunching! Come on, meet us at Malibu Farm,” Maggie said and you sighed.

“I told you it’s Fleet Week, I’m already down here,” you replied and you could feel her eyes roll on the other side of the phone.

“I would be supportive if you were trying to bag one of those Navy hotties but come on… bottomless mimosas and all the dirt on Stephanie’s breakup are better than some boats,” she said.

“I will see you for drinks tonight,” was all you replied before hanging up. You’d tried (very unsuccessfully) to convince some of your friends to come with you, telling them about how cool these carriers were and how you only got the chance to see them up close and personal once a year but they had zero interest… you were the only one in your circle who found this sort of thing interesting, and you would have been bummed except for the fact that you were more than okay doing things by yourself.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to a concert or a museum solo, you actually enjoyed it… you loved hanging out with your friends but it was nice to not be tied to what the majority of the group wanted to do (or didn’t want to do), and as you waited in line you were actually a little glad none of them had taken you up on your offer. If Maggie were here she’d be ogling the cute officer who appeared to be getting ready to take your group on board, and she’d spend the whole tour trying to flirt with him instead of listening to what he had to say.

You were content to wait in line as long as it took, taking in the beautiful ships to your left before switching to people watching, you knew this week drew all kinds of visitors and you found it entertaining to see such an eclectic mix of people all in one space… there were the obvious ex-Navy types, returning to their roots and reliving the glory days, there were couples who looked a little out of their element but excited for something new to do as a date, and families with kids… you even spotted an entire elementary class on a field trip. Spare your friend group, most people were more than interested in the opportunity to spend a day aboard multi-million dollar vessels and you were one of them.

Across the way Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw was chatting with his teammates about how much they wanted today to be over… it wasn’t that he hated Fleet Week, because he did enjoy it for about the first hour, but after that it became tiresome to give the same spiel over and over and over. They’d all tried to get out of it, Natasha had even gone so far as trying to manifest a deployment, but according to the higher ups there was no excuse for the Navy’s best and brightest to not make an appearance at an event happening so close to their home base.

But then he saw you and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you seem so enamored by everything around you… you didn’t hold an ounce of annoyance over the fact you’d been standing in that same spot going on half an hour now, something he’d seen from other visitors a dozen times already, and when a gust of wind kicked up your hair and sent it fluttering around your face you gave a half hearted attempt to tame it, but really you were just enjoying the breeze and the sun on your skin and he knew he had to know your name. He watched Jake getting ready to take your group aboard and he had to know if you’d abandon the formal tour in favor of letting him take you up instead.

You were eavesdropping on a conversation between a sailor and a kid just ahead of you, a soft smile on your lips as you listened to just how excited both parties were to be talking about the ship in front of you and you were so focused on them that you didn’t notice a person approaching you, not until his shadow cast across your face and when you turned you saw a man who nearly knocked the wind out of you… he was tall and solid, arms straining against the short sleeves of his khaki uniform and you thought that no one should look good in that color yet here he was proving you wrong. His golden brown waves glistened in the direct sunlight and he had a slight smirk beneath a mustache that you really wanted to hate, but you really didn’t… he was handsome, potentially one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen, and here he was standing directly in front of you and you looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, ma’am,” he introduced, extending his hand for you to shake which you did as you gave him your name and a smile. “What brings you out today?”

“A bizarre fascination with ships the size of planets,” you replied and he laughed. It was warm and a little rough around the edges, much like you’d appraised him to be in your short interaction, and you wanted to hear it again.

“Well, my day wrapped up not too long ago and I couldn’t help but notice you waiting for a tour…” he started, leaning in slightly with a mischievous look on his face as if he was about to tell you a secret, “and between you and me, your tour guide is a dud.” he finished and you looked towards the man, tall, blonde and oozing charisma and you had a feeling Bradley was lying to you as you watched him charm the entirety of your group with one sentence… but you weren’t feeling too keen on calling him out on his fib.

“Oh no, is that so?” you replied, disappointment lacing your tone.

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I think you oughta let me take you up, make sure you get the tour you deserve,” he propositioned and you nodded, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“I think that might be for the best… for the sake of a thorough Navy education and all,” you said and he nodded, gesturing towards the ramp and he held out his hand for you to take as you pulled yourself onto the steep landing. His hand was warm in yours and all-encompassing as he held it and made sure you made it safely before letting it fall back to your side and you were almost a little disappointed when he did.

He led you into the cargo hold, a massive room filled with so many things your eyes had a hard time adjusting at first. You trailed alongside him as he explained everything to you, sparing no detail as he went and you were particularly fascinated by the boat that was rigged to be deployed at a moments notice, positioned right in front of a hatch door, and he told you it was primarily there for search and rescue missions as he rattled off information about how long it takes to get it down into the water and pointed out the crane used to move it around as needed.

You listened with rapt attention as you continued through, you added a quip or a question here and there but mostly you were hanging onto his every word as he pointed out things like their freezer and the gym, and you realized you might have been content to listen to this man read you his grocery list and you had to make a conscious effort to focus on the words themselves and not just the voice that was speaking them. As you made your way up a steep and narrow stairwell, so much so you might have described it closer to a ladder than stairs, he stayed right behind you where he could catch you if you fell and you tried to ignore the fact that his diligence almost made you want to fall.

“There’s a lot up here,” he said as he led you down a hallway lined with doors, “but it’s mostly just bunks and offices. We’re not technically supposed to show you this, but… I won’t tell if you won’t,” he added as he pushed one of the doors open and you pretended to lock your lips and throw away the key as you peeked inside, taking in the modest living quarters with multiple twin beds.

“So, this is where you sleep when you’re deployed?” you asked and he nodded, brow furrowing when you looked at him, clearly skeptical about something as your eyes trailed him top to bottom before returning to the beds in front of you, “how do you even fit?” you followed up and immediately you flushed, not meaning to ask that at all but it was the first thing that popped into your head and it flew out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Not comfortably, sweetheart,” he replied with a laugh and you smiled softly at the term of endearment as he shut the door and nodded for you to follow. He talked about the photos lining the walls, telling you who was who or what was what in the ones he recognized before you went up another stairwell and before you could walk through the door frame in front of you he placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks.

You turned your head to look at him, an unasked question on your face, and he gave you that addictive smirk of his, “now this is the really fun part that very few people get to see,” he prefaced and you felt anticipation brimming as he kept his hands on you and guided you forward.

“Just breaking all the rules today aren’t you, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you replied and he wanted to tell you that you could just call him Bradley but one look at the mischief in your eyes told him you knew that… you just liked calling him Lieutenant and he liked hearing it too much to stop you. When you turned your attention forward you were faced with two beautiful jets right in front of you and you faltered for a moment, stunned by the sheer impressiveness of the aircrafts.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, careful of your step as you approached one of them and Bradley tried to commit that look of awe on your features to memory, his heart stuttering at the sight. You instinctively reached a hand out before snapping it back, realizing you probably shouldn’t be touching things with price tags you couldn’t comprehend.

He chuckled, “go ahead, it’s mine so do your worst.”

He thought you might get whiplash with how quickly you turned to face him, “yours? How have we made it through this whole tour without you mentioning you’re a pilot?”

“Thought I’d keep you on your toes,” he replied as you returned your focus to his jet, hand trailing along the smooth metal as you walked around it.

“I never thought I’d get to see an F/A-18 in person… at least not one that’s active,” you sighed, and now he was certain his heart had stopped in his chest. “Tops out at what, twelve hundred?” you asked and he blinked in surprise, only able to nod in response because he didn’t quite trust his words right now. He knew he liked you as soon as he saw you, so much so he was taking you on his tenth tour of the day when all he’d wanted to do previously was go to the bar, but now he was worried he was in a little over his head as you appreciated his jet, having identified it immediately without any help from him. “God, this is incredible, Bradley,” you said, maybe a little breathless from how excited you were and before you knew it he was disappearing, leaving you standing at the nose with a confused expression.

You laughed when he returned, rolling a ladder to the side of his jet and beckoning you over. He hadn’t anticipated you to know anything about planes, or really have any interest beyond the first minute of being in front of it, but now that he knew otherwise he wanted to show you everything. He held onto your hand as you took each step, trailing right behind you just as he had in the stairwells and when you got to the landing he started pulling the canopy back and you let out another soft gasp.

“Can you get in trouble for this?” you asked, turning to look at him. You knew private tours with high ranking pilots were not standard for Fleet Week, and you also knew this wasn’t an area most people would be allowed in, and you worried for a brief moment what would happen to him if anyone caught you.

He shook his head, “you’re accompanied by a Lieutenant, we’re fine,” he answered, smiling as you leaned over slightly to look inside his cockpit and his heart was thudding in his chest at the sheer wonder in your eyes. He started pointing out all of the controls, telling you what they did and why, and he answered your every question just as he had with the rest of the ship. “Sweetheart, I’ve gotta be honest… I’ve never met anyone who gave a damn about these jets that didn't work in or around them already.”

You pulled your attention back to him with an incredulous look, “how could they not?” you asked, and you wanted to keep your gaze on those pretty brown eyes that were locked on you, but the novelty hadn’t quite worn off yet and you looked back inside the jet. “I mean… this is next level engineering wrapped up in a pretty package, what’s better than that?” He thought you were beautiful when he saw you standing on your own with your hair blowing in the breeze and the sun kissing your skin, he thought you were beautiful when you laughed at his dumb jokes in the cargo hold, but right now he was certain he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you slightly bent over and leaning into his cockpit as you truly appreciated the one thing he loved most in this world.

“Please let me take you on a date,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself and you looked at him a little surprised. You’d been hoping since he approached you that he’d ask, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little at the unexpected timing.

“Ask me again after the tour,” you replied with a smirk and though it vaguely sounded like rejection he couldn’t help but smile. If you wanted to make him work for it then he absolutely would. You asked him a question about the gauges and he told you exactly what they measured, and when you finally made your way back down the ladder he even let you sit on the second to last step as he wheeled it back to its place.

“Bradley!” you squealed when he whipped it around, hands bracing on the poles on either side of you and you were a little breathless when you were suddenly facing him, looking up at him as his strong hands gripped just above your head as he continued pushing you through the open area.

“Just wanted a better view,” he replied and you flushed at the compliment. Even though it was only two steps he still offered you his hand as you got off and of course you still accepted it, lingering for a moment before dropping it. He took you back through the carrier a different way than you’d came so he could show you absolutely everything, still narrating as he went. Truthfully, there wasn’t much difference on this route than the other but it was longer and he wanted to drag this out. He knew as soon as you stepped off the ship he wouldn’t have any reason to keep you longer than he already had, and he wanted to postpone that moment as long as he could.

When you entered the now familiar cargo hold you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, you didn’t want your time with Bradley to come to an end but it seemed it was inevitable as he led you down the ramp and back onto solid ground. Your eyes were bright when you turned to face him and you still had that smile on that hadn’t seemed to leave your face all day and it was another sight he wanted to commit to memory. You had surprised the hell out of him, turned his boring day around the second he saw you and he knew with certainty he couldn’t get enough of you… and you were in the exact same boat. You knew when you got here today you’d have a good time, that the other man Bradley insisted was a dud still would have given a good tour and you’d have gotten exactly what you came for but the man in front of you exceeded every one of your expectations and then some, and you weren’t looking forward to the moment you had to go back to your car and not have his eyes on you anymore.

“Bradley, that was…” you sighed, “that was incredible, I don’t really know how to thank you for that.”

“Let me take you out,” he replied easily and you flushed, the tour was over and he was wasting no time in asking you out again, and this time you let him.

You nodded, “I’m free tonight.” His grin was wide as he fished his phone out of his pocket for you to input your number, and you couldn’t help but mirror him when he told you to put your address as well so he could pick you up… if this was anyone else, if you hadn’t just spent the afternoon with him catering to your every query and whim, you would have told him no. You would have said you could meet him somewhere, but you trusted him. The few hours spent together showed you that you could, and that wasn’t lost on Bradley. If you’d said no he wouldn’t have even blinked, he would have suggested something else that made you more comfortable, but you didn’t say no… and that caused his chest to tighten as he looked down at your beautiful smile.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek and you felt your skin tingling as he pulled away. “Wear something comfortable.”

You nodded, a little curious as to what he could have planned but you could just tell if you asked he wouldn’t say, and you were more than happy to let this man surprise you. “I’ll see you tonight, Bradley.”

“And I’ll be counting down every second.”

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munson-blurbs · 6 months ago

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Perhaps Eddie Munson was someone you could lean on--literally and figuratively. (4.7k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, vandalism, so much yearning, an accidental boner, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter nine: rest for the weary

Destroyed.

That was the only thought fleeting through your mind when you approached Eisen’s shattered door, jagged edges like rows of shark teeth. Your hand faltered, stopping just before the knob, like the whole store would disintegrate at the slightest turn.

Eddie stepped aside and gently opened the door, the bell jingling mockingly, watching to ensure that no more glass fell from the panes. “Careful,” he murmured, fingers ghosting over the middle of your back for just a second while you stepped over the threshold. Goosebumps formed beneath your shirt at his unexpected touch, brief as it was.

Your heart lurched once more as you entered the store, the normally meticulously organized shelves now coated in spray painted tags and profanities. A crudely drawn phallic symbol, complete with testicles and pubic hair, took up most of the front of the desk. The office door bore another one with a similar resemblance.

You were definitely surprised by Eddie��s offer to help out at Eisen’s, but nothing compared to the blatant shock on Ben’s face when he saw who accompanied you to the store. Your friend’s jaw clenched instinctively, and you realized he must have thought you brought Eddie here to confess.

“We came to help clean,” you quickly clarified, hoping Eddie didn’t sense the reasoning behind your explanation.

Silent tension thickened between the two men, your words your sole weapon to tear into it. “What can we do?” You asked Ben, volunteering yourself and Eddie in hopes of derailing potential conflict.

Ben cleared his throat, eyes swooping over the store that was still very much in disarray. Glass shards glittered across the floor despite his previous claims to have swept up, though you imagined that it was difficult to see clearly through his cloud of exhaustion. When he didn’t answer, you grabbed a broom from beside the door.

“I just got off the phone with the—” Aunt Tam walked in from the office, pausing mid-sentence when she spotted you. Her lips curled into whatever semblance of a smile she could muster as she shuffled over to wrap you in a hug. Her dark brown curls brushed your cheek.

When she pulled back, you hardly recognized her. Besides the passage of time carving wrinkles into her forehead and the bridge of her nose, her skin was free of make-up. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw her without at least mascara coating her lashes.

“We’re here to help with whatever you need.” You swallowed the lump in your throat at the sight of her bare face, the worry now permanently sealed into her eyes.

At the mention of a we, Aunt Tam glanced at the man beside you. Tepidly, Eddie stepped forward and held out his hand to shake hers. “Eddie Munson,” he said, posture straightening as he braced himself for a reaction. But if Ben truly suspected that Eddie had vandalized the store, he hadn’t shared that theory with his mother, because she shook Eddie’s hand without hesitation.

“Eddie can help remove the graffiti,” you offered, and Eddie nodded.

“Just need some WD-40,” he added with a small smile. “Maybe some steel wool if it’s really stubborn.”

Aunt Tam’s eyes lit up, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze that leaves your bones aching. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion as she turned to face Eddie. “Thank you, Eddie.” She wiped at her nose with one shirt sleeve. “We should have all of that in the back, if you’ll follow me…”

Eddie nodded again, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trailing behind her. “Yes, ma’am.”

When you could be sure that both he and Aunt Tam were out of earshot, you shuffled over to Ben. “It wasn’t him,” you said under your breath. “He was at a concert that night, and even if he wasn’t—he wouldn’t do this.” You gestured at the destruction.

Not fully convinced of Eddie’s innocence, Ben narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “How do you know?”

“The first night he stayed at the motel, he was smoking pot in his room. And when I told him not to, he listened.” You thought back to that moment, to his smirk that had you wondering if he would light another joint as soon as you turned your back. “And even though I basically accused him of vandalizing Eisen’s—before I knew where he really was—he still brought my essay to school today.”

Ben breathed out a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine,” he conceded, scratching at the back of his neck. “Is it bad that I wished it was him, so that we could stop worrying about whoever it was coming back and doing it again?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Kind of, yeah.” He scowled, playfulness stronger than any contempt, and you tapped the broomstick against his arm. “I’m guessing you didn’t share your theory with your parents?”

He shook his head. “My dad’s at the police station right now to see if any other shops caught the person on camera.”

“Yours didn’t?”

“Never installed any. Safe neighborhood, no need, y’know?” He rolled his eyes at his family’s naivety. “Seems like everyone else on the block felt the same way.”

You wanted to say more, to properly convey your sympathy, but your aunt and Eddie returned with the spray paint removal supplies. The broom suddenly became more interesting than ever before, your eyes glued to it as you brushed it against the floor. You didn't dare look at Eddie until he turned his back to you.

“All right,” he murmured to himself, tossing a rag over his shoulder and placing his hands squarely on his hips. The paint cans that had been sprayed were a lost cause, the veins in his biceps pulsing as he grabbed two at a time and heaved them onto the floor with soft grunts.

A teasing whisper tickled the shell of your ear. “Wipe your drool.” You could feel Ben’s smile as he spoke but didn’t have time to swat at him before he jogged over to help Eddie.

You preventatively swiped at your chin, relieved that you weren’t actually drooling. And why would you be? Eddie was your friend; nothing more, and sometimes a whole lot less. The excitement you’d felt when he’d shown up with your paper this afternoon was relief, not some burgeoning crush. Your hope that he would visit the front desk during your shifts could easily be explained as an eagerness for conversation, the ultimate cure for boredom. And the way you felt your heart beating in your stomach when he’d held your hand earlier–

It was only because it had been a long time since anyone had reached for you with an intimate gesture, you told yourself, save for Nora briefly squeezing your hand just before Eddie had taken it. But there was no flutter with Nora. A surge of gratefulness, maybe, but nothing compared to what Eddie’s touch had evoked.

“Heiress?”

Your head swiveled towards the sound of your nickname being called. Eddie looked at you, puzzled and impatient. “You okay? I’ve called your name, like, fifty times.”

“Twice,” Ben said; the clarification could have been a reassurance that you hadn’t spaced out for that long, or just a belated dig at Eddie. Either way, you appreciated it.

“Do you have one of those hair tie things?” Eddie shook his hair, which was already frizzing from perspiration.

You nodded dumbly, fingers fumbling for the elastic shoved deep into the abyss of your purse. Had you been staring at him? Gawking, even, as you silently tried to sort out your feelings?

“Thanks.” Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t draw your gaze from him as he tied back his mess of curls into a bun at the nape of his neck.

Sweep. Sweep, and stop thinking about how his stubble-coated jawline might feel beneath your lips.

This desire, this lust–it was all temporary. Fleeting. It would swiftly exit once the rush of exhilaration from his rescue fully wore off, and you would once again be content with a platonic friendship.

Your insides backflipped once more when Eddie rubbed the rag over the shelf, wiped away the graffiti, and flashed a million-watt smile in your direction.

If you had your way, ‘moving on’ would happen sooner rather than later.

Pristine wasn’t the right word to describe Eisen’s state when you finally left a few hours later, but the clean floor was a definite improvement. The graffiti was still visible on the shelves, but it had faded considerably with Eddie’s hard work. He stood next to Ben now, explaining how often to apply the WD-40 without ruining the finish.

Were they friends? Not even close. But each had let down their guard an inch more, though you remained unclear of the reason why Eddie’s was up in the first place.

A weighty exhaustion reminded you that you were surviving on pure adrenaline that had been steadily waning and was nearly depleted. A gentle hand rested on your shoulder as you returned the broom to its corner.

“Go home and rest,” Aunt Tam said kindly. “Ben told me you’ve been working nights and going to school. You need your sleep.”

“I know.” It was easier to agree than to argue, but the shop would be a mess if you had spent the afternoon sleeping.

Your aunt cocked her head and assessed you; whether you were too tired to properly fib or just her mother’s intuition, she didn’t believe you. “Well,” she sighed, “I told your boyfriend to get you home—”

Heat crept up your neck as she gestured a thumb towards Eddie. “Eddie’s not my boyfriend.”

Aunt Tam raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I just…he didn’t correct me earlier when I called you his girlfriend…and the looks you were giving each other…I figured…” She stopped, shaking off the notion as ridiculous.

Because it is ridiculous, you thought.

“We’re just friends.” That ‘just’ was cumbersome, like there was something inherently wrong with you and Eddie being friends. “We’re friends,” you amended, complete with a tired smile.

She fixed her composure, swiping her brunette bangs from her line of vision. “Well, we can’t thank you and your friend enough.”

She said that word like she knew something you didn’t. Worse, like you knew but refused to admit it.

Grogginess slowed your usual fast pace, and you stepped into the subway car with only a second to spare.

The adrenaline fully wore off once you sat down; the plastic subway seat might as well have been a plush mattress swathed in Egyptian cotton sheets. It wasn’t until you allowed yourself to sit back and breathe that the achiness crept in. Your lower back twinged; your shoulders and biceps remained tense from sweeping and scrubbing the shelves for so long. If you could feel your feet, they would probably hurt, too.

The yawn you let out stretched the skin on your face and brought reflexive tears to your eyes, and you wiped them away with the back of your hand.

“Tired?” Eddie asked, the question warped by a heavy yawn of his own.

You nodded, blinking a few times to keep your eyes open; your head felt like it could loll right off of your neck without warning.

Eddie shifted slightly and patted his right shoulder with his left hand. “Rest.”

“S’okay,” you mumbled, heaviness tugging at your eyelids even as you spoke. Exhaustion had its grip on you, tight enough that you barely noticed your stomach fluttering at the thought of resting on him. “I’ll just pass out when we get home.”

But he took one look at you, at the fogginess that draped over your body like a weighted cloak, and promptly vetoed that idea. “Rest,” he said again; this time, his words held a commanding air.

You clocked his concern, so unused to the way you ran yourself ragged until the kettle ran empty, until the match burned out. Another yawn escaped you, bringing a single hot tear with it, and any attempt to convince him that this was normal instantly became obsolete.

Sparing yourself the argument, you laid your head atop his shoulder. His cotton t-shirt was soft against your ear, somewhat muffling the train’s clanking and other passengers’ conversations. As quiet as the subway could be at seven o’clock in the evening.

“Our stop is—”

“I know.” The vibrations of his voice, your head so close to his throat, punctuated the reassurance. “You sleep, Heiress.”

The last thing you remembered was your grip loosening on the backpack strategically placed between your feet, your fingers unfurling from the strap as you succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

A hand on your knee gently shook you awake just as the conductor’s muffled voice announced that the train was approaching Forest Hills, and you felt a yank on your consciousness that pulled you out of your seat and towards the open doors.

“My backpack—” The icy panic that flooded your veins was enough to jar you awake. When you turned back, you saw that the train had already pulled away from the track.

“Right here.” Eddie patted the bag now slung over his shoulder. Your heart rate returned to its normal beat as relief washed over your skin, a wave crashing into the surf at high tide.

The station’s stale air covered you like a quilt, and the conductor had barely announced the grating reminder to stand clear of the closing doors before unconsciousness again hooked its claws into you.

“There ya go,” Eddie whispered when you rested your head on his shoulder once more. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” And you were–unnervingly so. You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time; no moment in recent memory came to mind. The questions you desperately sought answers to–why he hesitated to tell you about the concert, why he let Aunt Tam believe that he was your boyfriend–seemed utterly inconsequential.

You could vaguely feel Eddie fidgeting as you drifted in and out of consciousness, struggling to adjust his posture and avoid any unwarranted touch.

Sleep transformed your body into that of a ragdoll, slumped over and limp, moving only as the train car swayed. Your limbs felt disconnected from your torso, which was why you barely registered the urgent grasp around your wrist.

“Hmm?” You blinked awake, blurred vision sharpening to reveal Eddie’s hand holding yours. No, not holding it; he was moving it. Moving it away from the denim that creased along his inner thigh.

“Shit, I—” Humiliation stole your words, stabbed at them with its forked tongue and left you scrambling for an explanation. “I didn’t mean to.”

Eddie’s own cheeks turned a rosy pink, as though his fingers had been accidentally creeping towards the inseam of your jeans. “No, I—I know,” he stammered, clocking the horror on your face and offering a sheepish smile. Your fingertips burned where he’d touched them, where you’d touched him.

There was no way you could sleep after that, your body far too alert despite the ever-increasing weight of your eyelids. You sat up straighter; as you did, Eddie placed your backpack on his lap. When you reached for it, he shook his head and pulled back slightly, and your brows furrowed at your misinterpretation.

“I got it,” he said, a hoarseness in his voice that you weren’t able to place. “You can keep resting.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup,” he answered too quickly, wrapping one arm around the bag and tugging it even closer to his chest. “S’all good.”

A strange tension lingered, one that differed from the anger that pulled the conversation taut during your last subway ride home together. Eddie was physically beside you, but his eyes searched the car like he was gearing up for another round of I Spy.

You needed to speak and move past the embarrassment that tethered you to silence.

“Eddie?” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the train’s clacking and your own internal monologue.

“Hmm?”

You swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell me about going to see your old band?”

Eddie froze, his arm still tight around your bag; for a moment, you wondered if you crossed the line.

Finally, he spoke. “Didn’t want to.”

An answer and a non-answer simultaneously, telling you to back off. But you’d be damned if you let today’s progress be soured.

“I wouldn’t have judged you.” Slowly, you let your eyes fall on him, noticing his fingers picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “You don’t have to tell me. But just so you know.”

He nodded, and you prayed he absorbed the reassurance as it traveled from your lips to his ears. His response was not what you expected, although nothing with Eddie has gone to plan thus far.

“Why haven’t you told your parents about school?”

He knocked you off-kilter despite his calm tone; surprisingly, there was no judgment from him, either. “I don’t want to disappoint them.” When Eddie just looked at you, palms open and brows raised, you realized you’d just answered your own question. “How would you seeing Death’s Echo disappoint me?”

“I dunno.” One scuffed sneaker squeaked against the floor. “I talked a big game about how the music industry is all bullshit and how I didn’t care about the band anymore, but…”

“You miss it,” you filled in.

He sucked his lips to his teeth before nodding. “I miss it,” he said with a reluctant chuckle. “I miss it so fuckin’ much.”

Exhaling a long breath, he continued. “I mean, I really don’t miss being the record label’s bitch. And I hate the thought of being a sellout. But nothing beats that adrenaline rush you get when you walk on stage and the crowd is screaming your name, or when they sing your lyrics back to you. Lyrics you wrote.”

You stayed silent for a minute, letting the heaviness of his statement sink in. Important. He felt important, wanted, needed. Without saying so, it was evident that working at the motel would never give him that same satisfaction. No amount of desecrated wasp nests or perfectly glued wallpaper could ever compare to the cheers of adoring fans.

“It’s not over, you know. Your chance to have that again.”

Eddie’s eyes locked onto yours, chocolate irises swimming with a juxtaposing combination of hope and defeat. “No one’s exactly lining up to sign me,” he said.

“They will.” You smiled, lips together. “You’re too talented to slip under the radar.”

He returned the smile, reaching out his pinky and interlocking it with yours as a thank you. You gave it a tiny pulse in recognition.

“The other night…” Eddie started. He still looked at you, but the twitch of his nose told you that it was harder to hold than before. “I shouldn’t have said that you’d treat your clients badly.”

“It’s fi—”

“It’s not.” Eddie’s voice was stern, unwavering, but not cold. “And I’m sorry.”

Your pinky remained wrapped around his. “We both said some shitty things that we didn’t mean,” you offered.

“Yeah.” The right side of his mouth turned up, not a full smile, but one filled with compassion nonetheless. “Forgive and forget?”

You cocked your head to give him a knowing look. “One other thing to know about New York women,” you said, “we might forgive, but we never forget.”

Eddie’s half-smile turned into a grin, and he leaned in closer to whisper. “Y’know, for a bookworm, you’re kind of a badass.”

Trying to ignore the now-familiar tingles that accompanied his tobacco-scented breath on your ear, you resumed your previous position of your head on his shoulder, humming in agreement. There was no hiding how pleased you felt from his praise, his newfound ability to see you beyond a singular dimension.

He peered down at you, his lips brushing your scalp. “Still tired?”

“Not really.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Okay, then,” he murmured, and from the subtle movement in his jaw, you knew he was still smiling as he said it.

Consciousness was a drifting cloud, one that passed overhead quickly to make room for thunderous exhaustion. The storm hit the moment you walked into your room as you flung your backpack and your body onto the bed.

Your eyes didn’t flutter closed like a fairy tale princess; they snapped shut like an iron gate, impenetrable to any forces.

Including a clock radio alarm.

12:09

The digital numbers stared at you, harsh and blinding, as though they also couldn’t believe the time. The alarm you’d set for 9 PM was clearly ineffective, seeing as you were over two hours late to work.

“Shit!” Whatever spell had enchanted you instantly broke, and you jolted out of bed with such ferocity that you briefly saw stars.

You smoothed down your T-shirt from where it wrinkled against the starchy comforter. Chalky white deodorant remnants stained the black fabric, right along your ribcage, and you hastily undressed and threw on the nearest clean shirt.

Sleep tainted your tongue and dried saliva decorated the corner of your mouth, your slumber so deep that you’d drooled.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled, grabbing your toothbrush from its place at the sink and brushing just long enough to chase away the stale taste.

Was Mom still at the desk? Did Dad have to take over your shift? Had they both assumed you’d show up on time and left the desk unmanned for what they thought would only be a few minutes?

Your blood ran cold. Anyone could have taken a key off of the wall, could have broken into the register and taken what little money you had…

Feet flying, you push open your door and squint to adjust to the harsh hallway lighting.

Before you did anything else, you needed to apologize profusely to whatever parent had the misfortune of still being behind the desk. Offer to do some extra chores, or take on a few hours of their shift.

But that plan is stalled when you run into the lobby and see neither your mom nor your dad. Only Eddie, hunched over a stack of scribble-filled papers.

When he hears your panicked footsteps, he looks up and grins cheekily. “Morning, Sunshine.”

You would have flipped him off if it weren’t for the overwhelming relief that your mistake hadn’t burdened your parents.

“You know,” he continued, tapping his pen against his teeth, “this gig isn’t half bad. I’m almost finished with these lyrics.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly of their own accord. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

Eddie snorted. He put his pen down on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Sweet, naive Sleeping Beauty,” he tutted, adopting a playful tone. “I knocked on the door not once, not twice, but thrice to no answer.”

“Thrice?” You raised a brow at his formal word choice.

“Thrice.” He held up three fingers and wiggled them for emphasis. “But I figured you must really need the sleep, so…” He gestured vaguely as if to say, here I am.

One foot in front of the other, right arm still crossed over the left and showing off a litter of inked bats, he sauntered over to you. “I believe this is where you thank me for saving your ass.”

He was teasing, though he did deserve your gratitude, but your mind only focused on the reason why.

“My parents—”

“Adore me,” Eddie cut in with a knowing grin. “Even gave me the whole ‘any friend of our daughter’s is a friend of ours’ spiel.”

There was that word again: friends. It rubbed you raw, salt on an open wound, and it stung even more coming from his mouth.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, still ranting about his successful encounter. “Maybe I should be thanking you, since this scored me some major points.”

It was a lifeline; something onto which you could latch instead of letting your thoughts spin in never-ending circles. “Well, then, you’re welcome.”

He noticed the hesitation, even without the context of its cause. “Look, you got a few extra hours of sleep and nothing happened. The place didn’t burn down, didn’t spontaneously combust, and I only accepted one bad check.”

“You what?!”

Eddie guffawed at your widened eyes. “Kidding. Besides,” he added, “you wouldn’t even know it bounced until you took it to the bank.”

“Go fuck yourself.” But the corners of your mouth turned up in a smile, betraying the annoyance you’d tried to present.

“Will do.” He gave a small salute, two fingers to his forehead, and grabbed his papers off of the desk. “But before I get to that, we need to talk about you not going to your graduation.”

For a moment, you forgot about Nora’s comment earlier that day. It seemed like weeks ago, rather than mere hours. “I can’t.”

Eddie quirked a brow. “Can’t talk about it or can’t go?”

“Both.”

He blew out a breath, equal parts frustration and disappointment. Like he was invested in this, perhaps more so than you were.

It was enough to pull a genuine explanation from you. “I can’t afford the cap and gown,” you said, “and even if I could, the ceremony starts at nine in the morning. That’s when I sleep.”

He nodded, incisors digging into his lower lip while he digested the information. “So…you’re not doing anything to celebrate?”

“Not having to drag my ass to classes anymore is celebration enough.” Until graduate school starts, you thought wryly, the sinking feeling returning to your stomach.

Eddie wasn’t accepting that answer, shaking his head so his curls were a brunette blur across his face. “No. No.” His tone was insistent, teetering on the brink of stern. “You worked hard, and you should do something fun.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he considered his options, his brown eyes sparkling as an idea came to him. “Let me take you out for a drink.”

“With what money?”

He scoffed playfully. “I think I can splurge on one drink. No specialty cocktails, though.” He pointed his forefinger in your direction, emphasizing his point. “And house liquor only.”

You wanted to–more than anything, you wanted to. Each weekend, you felt taunted by the sounds of friends traipsing down the street, sharing inside jokes and making memories that would either last a lifetime or be washed away with a few more beers. It was an experience you’d never had, but there was little time for friendship outside of school.

“I can’t,” you said finally, feeling just as dejected as Eddie looked. “My shifts start at ten.”

“So I’ll get you back by ten,” Eddie said with a shrug, no big deal. “And it’s one drink; ‘s not like you’re gonna be wasted.”

You hesitated before responding, your brain already churning out a thousand excuses to bail.

I’ll be too tired.

I don’t want to smell like booze when I’m working.

I have a cult meeting right before my shift.

“I…yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Eddie nearly did a double-take at your acceptance; truthfully, you surprised yourself.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.” He cleared his throat and regained his composure with astonishing speed. “I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow?”

You shook your head. “The bars around here always overcharge on weekends. Let’s do Monday.” And maybe by then I’ll conjure up a solid escape plan.

He grinned, jogging back to the desk and grabbing his pen. “Monday…8 PM…Heiress.” You watched as he wrote the words on his palm, going over the spots where the ink flow weakened.

Eddie’s hand found yours, left fingers grasping your wrist to keep you steady, his right fingers busy decorating your skin in black ink. His tongue poked out from between his lips as he focused on writing without applying too much pressure, and you tried not to squirm whenever the pen grazed a ticklish spot.

When he pulled back, your own palm bore a near-identical message to his:

Monday 8 PM Eddie

Like you could forget.

-- taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98

@squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia

@kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock

@ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

@yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts

@mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank

@sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles

@the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl

@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

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

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newtonsheffield · 2 months ago

Note

The snippet from Surprise Neddy AU! 😍 It's so cute I'm literally melting away.

I think I've already said that I absolutely love that Neddy calls Anthony "my Anthony", but I also love the fact that:

Kate often calls Neddy "Baby"

we get to see Neddy's perspective, his emotions

Anthony wanted to ask Neddy if Kate had said he was a good kisser, but decided against it 🤭

Neddy is a handful. I can already imagine him telling Kate that Anthony said that she is the prettiest girl in the world. And Kate having a similar reaction to Anthony's: wanting to ask Neddy about all the details, but scolding herself internally "Kate, you really shouldn't be quizzing your 3-year-old about your one-night stand ex. Pull yourself together!". 😂

Look Anthony really was desperate to know if three years have been kind to Kate’s memory of their night together. It’s pretty clear that she doesn’t resent him for the fact she got pregnant and had no way to contact him so that’s a bit of a relief. But he’d still like to know that she doesn’t… completely hate the memory of him. You know, just for curiosity’s sake. Doesn’t hurt that she is the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and maybe he himself has thought very fondly of her from time to time and maybe wished he’d been in a position for their relationship to have turned out differently. Doesn’t hurt that they have a beautiful incredible, very cheeky son together who tells him what to buy when they want to take Kate a treat to the office when Anthony takes Neddy to meet her for dinner.

“She likes these ones!” Neddy pointed at a bucket of tulips. “These are her best favourites. And these.” Pink roses.

Anthony cleared his throat, “We’ll get a dozen of each please, wrapped together.”

It feels a bit awkward, walking up to the front desk to ask his way to Kate’s office when the receptionist looks curiously between Neddy, who she must know and him: a man she’s never seen before.

Her hand stretched towards the security button and Anthony leapt in quickly. “We’re here to see Kate Sharma, I’m bringing Neddy.”

“Hi!” Neddy said from beside him as the woman’s shoulders relaxed.

“Hi Neddy, I’ll let your Mum know you’re on your way.”

“This is my Anthony!” Neddy grinned proudly making Anthony’s chest swell with pride. “We’re having pasta for my tea!”

“That’ll be yummy I bet Neddy.”

“Yep!”

Anthony could see Kate at the end of the hall as Neddy ran in a little jog that Anthony easily kept up with. Her brow was furrowed as she spoke with someone on the phone her brow furrowed. Anthony caught their son just before he opened the door and hollered.

“Let’s just wait a second, Buddy.”

Neddy waited exactly one second before he kicked the door Open from Anthony’s arms.

“Amma!”

“Neddy!” Anthony gasped, looking apologetically to Kate. “I said we needed to wait, mate!”

Kate laughed, holding out her arms for him. “It’s okay, i just hung up.”

Neddy scrambled down from Anthony’s arms, running to Kate who scooped him up, kissing the top of his head. “I missed you today baby. Did you have fun with Daddy?”

“Yep! We coloured my pictures and Daddy likes Pasta too! And we got you these!”

He gestured for Anthony to bring the flowers forward and he saw a flicker of surprise in Kate’s eyes before she smiled. So beautiful and bright that it stuck in his chest, finding its home there.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

“They’re for pretty girls. Because we’re nice cute boys,”

Kate’s lips twitched in a smirk as she stared at Anthony. “Is that so?”

Anthony shrugged, “What can I say? The kids got it.”

“I remember his Daddy having a little something- something as well.”

“Well, we Bridgerton boys are very handsome. It’s hard to resist us.”

And he could have sworn he heard Kate mutter You’re not wrong.

#surprise neddy au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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the-roo-too · 26 days ago

Text

candy -> uchinaga aeri ver

aka the fluff alphabet

admiration (what does she absolutely adore about you)- you’re her biggest supporter, and she loves that about you. support giselle’s rights and wrongs

body (what’s her favourite body part of yours)- can i say ass bc giselle will give you a playful slap you when you’re passing by 😐

cuddling (how she likes to cuddle)- laying on top of each other ‼️ either your head nuzzling into her chest or the other way around, i don’t make the rules

dates (what’s her ideal date)- shopping 🤩 date 🤩 buy all the expensive clothes you talked about last night when you couldn’t sleep, and then get something yummy at the food court!

emotions (how does she express her emotions around you)- very expressive, especially when it comes to pouting. or making annoying kissy faces! with you, giselle is very straightforward

family (does she want one)- giselle doesn’t strike me as a family gal, sorry y’all. you’d be the best rich gay aunties tho!!!

gifts (what about gift giving)- surprise silly gifts! say you were back in your hometown for the weekend and giselle couldn’t tag along because of practice. you’re bringing her the ugliest ‘i love [city name]’ shirt you can find

holding hands (does she like to hold hands)- very much so! especially in front of her members. she has to assert her dominance and claim on you somehow right? 🙂‍↕️

injuries (what would she do if you got hurt)- 100% would laugh at you. but, hear me out, when we’re talking about minor injuries like slipping on wet floor, she’ll CACKLE like a witch, and then also slip in the same spot you did

jokes (does she like to joke around)- giselle is a prankster at heart ok don’t argue with me on that one

kisses (how does she like to kiss you)- gently and slowly, with her hands cupping your cheeks so they appear a little puffier.

love (what’s her love language)- she’s ver caring physically, but not verbally, you know what i mean? she’ll laugh at you when you hit yourself on the edge of the kitchen counter, but one of her hands will slip to your stomach to caress the spot where a bruise will form, while her other hand cups your cheek to examine your pretty face

memory (what’s her favourite memory together)- i think the first concert aeri brought you to! and not necessarily aespa’s concert, it might’ve been just a show of your favourite band. that’s a fond memory for her because you were all smiles the whole time!

nighttime (how does sleeping with her look like)- i can’t tell you where that vision came from, but she drapes her leg over you ok. it’s like holding you with her hand but not really

oddity (what’s one quirky thing about her)- visualise that one clip of her saying “when life gives you lemons, make mojitos…. i just said something very smart”. she wakes you up in the middle of the night to share her wisdom

pet names (what does she like to call you)- babygirl, babydoll, sweetie; the nicknames can fall on a spectrum between a granny and a sugar daddy

quality time (how does she like to spend time with you)- watching movies while eating takeout. you take turns in picking the films and aeri always chooses horrors, so you’ll curl up to her when you’re scared (she’s herself scared shitless but someone has to be the brave one in the relationship)

rush (does she rush into things)- a little bit? she asks you out after meeting you once, first kiss is after the first ‘i love you’ lol

secrets (how open is she with you)- giselle gives me the vibe of a person who tells you everything about her pets, but you don’t know her favourite colour until like the third anniversary

time (how long did it take her to confess)- as i said before, one full meeting

upset (what’s her reaction when you’re upset)- similar when you’re hurt? she’ll poke a little fun at you, but only if you’re upset about something minor. if you’re mad at her or really really upset, she’ll do her best to calm you down and resolve the problem

visibility (is she afraid of the public opinion)- like i said in winter and karina alphabet, all of aespa is TERRIFIED 💜 of the public opinion

warrior (how often do you fight)- not commonly. aeri doesn’t have that much free time so you both try to make as much of it as you can, and being mad at each other or fighting wouldn’t be helping the case

x-ray (is she able to read you)- yes, it’s like you’re connected telepathically. and then it works both ways! she can read you as well as you can read her

yes (how would she propose to you)- giselle doesn’t give me the vibe of someone who’d wanna settle down like that… living a happy life with two cats in a pretty house? yes, but marriage and all that official stuff? mm…

zen (what makes her feel calm)- good music 😔✊ the best way to relax fr. aeri has a special playlist with calming songs you both love just for that occasions

part of [the fluff series]

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dodger-chan · 7 days ago

Text

Based off this post by @cheer-nympho

I thought it would be a silly drabble, but I made the mistake of sleeping on it and, well, here have some very nearly canon compliant demon Steve

------------

Eddie woke up to pain.

“What happened?” he asked, not opening his eyes. If no one answered, he could go back to sleep.

“Steve’s a demon.” It was Henderson’s voice. Fuck, it was good to hear the kid’s voice. If Dustin was here, talking to him, it meant the kid was okay. It meant they’d made it.

“No shit,” Eddie answered, and then slipped back into unconsciousness.

It had been a joke, the summoning spell. Eddie had been bored, maybe a little high, and hadn’t believed any of that bullshit, anyway. Not demons, or satan. He hadn’t even been particularly confident in god.

“Oh, it’s real. All of it,” Harrington had confirmed, sitting cross legged in the chalk circle on Eddie’s bedroom floor. Only the red flames where his eyes should be differentiated him from the archetypal teenage jock. Well, the flames and the fact that he was in Eddie’s room to begin with. Eddie’s room was generally reserved for fellow freaks and nerds. “Time’s ticking on this summoning, Munson. Do you want to deal or not?”

The next time Eddie surfaced the pain was less intense. He was able to peel open his eyes. Wayne was there.

“What happened?” Eddie asked again. Wayne smiled, and squeezed Eddie’s hand.

“Think you’re gonna remember it this time?” he asked instead of answering.

“No idea. Tell me anyway?”

“You said that last time, too.” Wayne chuckled.

What Wayne told him didn’t match what Eddie did remember; obviously the mysterious government suits had provided a cover story. A shitty, ridiculous cover story that was only slightly more plausible than the truth. Still, one that cleared his name, so Eddie probably should be grateful. And, cover story or not it was good to know Henderson was fine aside from a mildly twisted ankle. Sinclair and Lady Applejack had gotten a few bruises. Red had a way too many broken bones for anyone’s liking. Something had happened to Robin and Wheeler the Elder, though neither girl would say what. Harrington…

Harrington had fucking vanished.

“What’ll it cost me?” Eddie’d asked. He wasn’t normally a cautious guy, but he’d read enough stories about deals with the devil to know they were tricky.

“Depends on what you ask. I mostly deal in small favors. You know, a girl who turned you down gets her period early and bleeds through her pants in class. A fire alarm goes off just when you were about to take a pop quiz. And I take something of similar value in return.” Harrington had frowned at him then. “Shit like making sure I end up team captain, or always get the good drinks at parties. It’ll be a little harder to get something useful from you.”

“Running the DnD club doesn’t count as recruiting souls?”

Harrington’s laugh could only be described as a cackle.

“What makes you think I care about recruiting souls?” he’d asked. “But no, it doesn’t. If I wanted souls, I’d do better with basketball. One soul per college scout.”

“What if I want something big?”

“What happened to Harrington?” Eddie asked Dustin the next time the kid visited him.

“I don’t know.” The others all said that, too. Swore up and down they hadn’t seen him since they’d split the party to fight Venca on multiple fronts. Henderson was the only one Eddie didn’t believe.

“Tell me what you do know.” It was a demand more than a request, and Eddie felt guilty making it. Dustin had to be missing his surrogate brother.

“After the gates joined, Nancy went through at the Creel House, but Steve and Robin came back for us. You were…um…I asked Steve to save you. He said he would. Then he went all demon-y, and asked Robin if she wanted anything while he was at it. She asked him to get Vecna. He must have. Because we’re all alive, and when El got here she said that One had been killed.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know! Demon stuff, probably,” Dustin snapped. “Steve carried you and me out of the gate, he put us in a car and told Robin not to worry about being a bad driver, just to head towards Hawkins Memorial and we’d get there safely. I didn’t see him after that.”

A deal with Dustin to save Eddie. And a deal with Robin to save them all.

“You and Nancy Wheeler, trying to shoot for the moon.” Harrington had shaken his head almost sadly. “She couldn’t meet my price. Tried her hardest for nearly a year. But even the hope of bringing Barb back wasn’t enough.”

“I don’t want anything as big as a resurrection.” Eddie had been thinking more along the lines of getting the house back. Or freeing Wayne from his father’s debts.

“Once we’re talking about anything of real significance, the exact size doesn’t matter. You see,” Steve had leaned to the edge of the summoning circle, like he was inviting Eddie into a confidence. “I’m not exactly supposed to be here. If I do anything too obvious, something that couldn’t happen without demonic intervention, I get dragged back to hell. So the price is the same regardless.”

“And that is?” Eddie had been through a lot more in his life than prissy Nancy Wheeler. He could stomach what she couldn’t.

“Love me.”

Robin didn’t visit Eddie in the hospital. She didn’t visit him at his uncle’s new trailer when he got out. Eddie had to track her down at work, pretending to need help finding a horror movie to watch on the VCR he didn’t own.

“I need to know what the terms of the deal were,” he whispered, leaning close as Robin tried to push him back with a copy of The Exorcist. The power of VHS compels you. “The one Dustin made with Steve, and the one you did. What was the price?”

Robin relented.

“Steve told Dustin the price of saving you was losing him as an older brother.” Damn. That was harsh.

“And Dustin agreed to that?” The kid looked up to him, sure, but Harrington had been his hero.

“Dustin thinks he’s smarter than he is. And he didn’t know about the whole-” Robin made devil horns with her left hand “-thing. He probably figured Steve was just being a jealous bitch, and he’d talk him around once you were stable.”

That made more sense. But, “Henderson never tried to make a bargain before? Even by accident?”

“You have to ask to make a bargain,” Robin pointed out. Which, fair enough. Dustin did tend to give orders where other people would ask politely. Harrington might never have had an opportunity to offer Dustin a deal. “I don’t think it was really a deal. Steve was just telling Dustin the truth; that once he knew he wouldn’t be able to see Steve the same way.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he bought that. Steve wouldn’t have saved Eddie for his own sake. It was a nice thought, though, that Harrington was capable of caring about Dustin enough to do real magic for free.

“What about your deal?”

“Paid in advance.” She scowled at him; if Eddie hadn’t already known the price, he’d have been afraid to ask. “How did you know about-?”

She made the devil horns again.

“I, uh, accidentally summoned him once.”

Robin lit up.

“You know how to summon him?” she asked, bouncing on her toes. Eddie nodded. “I know his name. His real name. After Starcourt, the Russians, when I - I can bind him. Eddie, we can bring him back.”

“Your price is sex and you’re trying to tell me Wheeler didn’t pay?” Gossip put Wheeler and Harrington in bed together a full year prior. Even if word of mouth had run a little ahead of reality, “I call bullsh-”

“My price isn’t sex,” Harrington had interrupted. “Sex is cheap. There for the taking whether I want it or not. Fun but worthless. My price is love. Romantic. Platonic. Familial. Doesn’t matter. But it has to be love. Do you know how valuable that is?”

Eddie hadn’t.

“It’s almost time for me to leave, Munson. Is it going to be a small favor? Or do you want to try to earn something big?”

The summoning went a lot easier with Robin’s help. Or maybe it was being sober when he set it up. Either way, the candles flickered and inside the once empty circle stood Steve Harrington. A little less human looking: tattered wings, blood stained claws, and just barely noticeable fangs were added to the flaming eyes. But he was still recognizable to Eddie. And to Robin, who threw herself across the lines of protection they’d carefully drawn less than an hour ago - smearing them into uselessness - for a hug.

“I missed you, too, Rob.” The voice was the same.

“Oh, right, quick, put this on.” She handed him a ring. One of Eddie’s - she hadn’t wanted to wait until they could find something a little more fitting of Steve’s image. “I bound you to the ring. I figured it’s portable, so you can take it with you if you want to leave Hawkins. You can wear it on your hand, or on a chain if you don’t want it visible. Just don’t lose it. If someone else takes it, they’ll be able to drag you around places. But I thought that was less of a risk than binding you to something you couldn’t move-”

“Breathe, Rob,” Steve reassured her, hugging her tightly. “It’s fine. Better than fine. I didn’t think…I never expected to see you again. Either of you.”

“Well, that was real dumb of you, Harrington.” Eddie grinned at the demon. The boy. His savior and possible friend.

It wasn’t possible to look intimidating with Robin Buckley clinging to him, but Steve gave it a good shot.

“You looking for another dirty magazine, Munson?”

“Uh, I guess I could use a new skin mag? The one I’ve got is starting to fall apart.”

“Check your mail tomorrow. One’s going to get misdelivered. You owe me one.” Harrington had smiled, smooth and perfect. He’d disappeared when Eddie’d blinked.

The next afternoon, Eddie’d found the newest issue of Blueboy, meant for delivery in Chicago. Pretty impressive; Eddie hadn’t even told Steve he’d needed gay porn. A week and a half later there was a note in his locker, telling him to pull the fire alarm at the beginning of third period.

And that was the end of it.

“Not this time.” That had been the end of it, until Eddie’s freshmen sheep turned out to be demon worshipers. Until Chrissy’d been murdered, and Steve had jumped in to help without asking anything of Eddie in return. “That used to be my ring.”

“I figured.” Harrington glanced down at the snake now wrapped around his middle finger. “I’m not giving it back.”

“Guess you’ll owe me one.”

“Guess I will.” Steve stepped out of the circle, out of Robin’s arms. “Are you doing Friday night? Come to mine. I’ll make you dinner.”

“You asking me on a date, Harrington?” Eddie was pretty sure that’s what Steve was doing. “It’s going to take more than one date to pay me back for that ring.”

Crazy how fun it was to tease a demon.

“I sure hope so.”

#hahaha i did not mean to do that #between trying to picture how canon could stay similar while steve was a demon #and the idea that hell was simply the absence of love (kind of perfect for steve's motivation)#i accidentally fic'ed #platonic stobin #steddie #(though i think it's a bit more stobin than steddie)#eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #if i post this to ao3 too i'll have to figure out something with formatting #color and tense should do for here #my fic

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peachesofteal · 1 year ago

Text

Dead Disco / Chapter 7

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief suggestive content. Angst, anxiety, self loathing, relationship issues. Darling is her own tag/warning. Panic attack, eating related issues, fainting. Emotional hurt/comfort, fluff. Established throuple. It's better when they're here.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Kyle grins in response, and then pulls you in for a hug. His face is full mirth, his cheer warming you from the inside, and you embrace him in return.

“’bout time they bring you out here. No reason to hide you away all this time.” Something nervous, a light giggle, slips out from between your lips, your eyes rolling in an exaggerated fashion. Johnny's hand flexes against the base of your spine.

“Gaz.” Simon sighs, and he barks out a laugh before turning back to you.

“Try not to let these two bore ya to death.” He whispers, before giving them both a nod and ducking down the hall. He makes absolutely no noise, feet silent against the floor, practically disappearing before your eyes, shadow here then gone, presence felt, and then void, all at once.

“He’s nice.” You look up at the two of them. Johnny chuckles, amusement scrawling across his lips and cheeks as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Don’t let him fool ye.” He quips and you frown, confused.

“Gaz is… very, very good at his job. One of the best there is, I’d say.” Simon explains gently, and then your stomach sours, because you remember.

What they do. What their jobs are. Why you’re even here in the first place. You’ve never asked for in-depth detail or explanations, but you’ve heard enough, know enough, to know.

He turns the lock and pushes their door open, giving you a view into their room, a short hall that expands out to something that looks like a college dorm, except maybe a bit bigger. It’s got all the similarities though, cinderblocks and an old, tiled floor, singular window and a bit of an odd smell.

“So, this is your room?”

“Aye. We’ve got a big bed, mostly thanks to Si, and a little more space than everyone else on this floor but, this is it.” It’s sparse too, no pictures or personal items, nothing that looks like or resembles them except…

There’s a bulletin board, hanging on the wall above the bed. It’s empty, save for one thing, a photo that’s been stapled to the cork.

It’s of you, this photo, you under a white sheet, smiling at Simon, who’s behind the camera, with just the shadow of Johnny’s hand along your upper arm. It was taken last year, you can tell, because you recognize the style of your hair from that time, and you stand there for too long, staring at it, mouth partially hanging open, breath held in your lungs.

Nothing in this room that reflects them, or their home, or each other… nothing. Except for a photo of you.

“Darling?” Simon murmurs, and his chest presses against your back, thumb and forefinger stroking along the back of your neck. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. I… I’m alright.”

“So, like… what is that you guys do?” The question lands to a silent reception, both of them exchanging looks in front of you, almost like you’re not even in the room. You feel awkward, and self-conscious, while they seem to have a silent debate with their eyes.

“We’re in multi-national special ops unit.” Johnny provides, and your eyebrows crease as you process. A what? A multi-national what? You laugh, until you realize their faces are deadly serious.

Wait. Are these guys in the fucking military?

“Special ops, like… the military special ops?”

“Kind of.”

Oh.

Fuck. Your cheeks feel hot, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or the topic you’ve stumbled upon, but you swallow loudly as you process it.

You’re not exactly a huge fan of the military. Not like you really know anything about it, just that most of the wars your own country has been involved in for the last twenty years revolve around oil and imperialism, and all the dudes who serve are abusive and predatory. Assholes. Creeps.

Or at least, that’s what it’s like where you’re from.

“She didn’t like that.” Simon murmurs from behind the mask, and Johnny grimaces.

“Alright?” He hums and a small noise gets stuck in your throat, like you want to say yes, want to say no, like you’re not sure what you want. “We travel a lot, for work. So, we’re not always around… that’s where we’ve been the last few weeks. Working.” The words make your heart skip a beat, and you nod, still processing.

Not always around… not always around.

So they really aren’t planning on making this a thing, then. The thought stings with bitterness against your tongue, and you shove it away.

When you don’t say anything in response, Johnny sighs, and reaches for your hand, fingers curled against your palm in your lap. “How did we get on this subject anyway? We’re supposed to be havin’ some fun.” He smiles, big and warm, sending butterflies spiraling through your stomach and up your spine.

Simon’s gaze never strays from your face, and his brow furrows, like he’s reading you, or piecing you together. The scrutiny makes you shiver.

Why are you worrying about it? This is only like the third time seeing them, anyway. You’re getting too attached. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re just having fun. That’s all it is.

“Right.” You quip, and then pull your drink towards you before rising from the chair. Your skirt is short, and you realize it’s probably too short when you see Simon’s jaw grinding behind the mask as you turn your body, edge of the fabric brushing against the back of your thighs. His gaze is heavy, it’s hot, and you remember the image of him looking up from between your legs the other night, lower half of his face buried in your cunt, still hidden from view without the scrap of fabric. “So… should we get another round then?” You hold your empty drink, ice clinking against the glass, and Johnny chuckles before standing in front of you, a hand on covetously laying on your waist as his lips brush your cheek.

“’ll get them, love. You sit.”

The bed is very, very warm. You don’t even need the duvet and sheet that you have pulled around your shoulders, your hips, but you snuggle down into them farther, breathing in the scent of Johnny’s shampoo, of Simon’s skin.

It all whirs around you in some soft, soothing scented lullaby, and you allow yourself the indulgence, closing your eyes again even though you’ve only just woken from the nap that you slipped into when they left for a meeting.

You’ve managed to trap their body heat beneath the blankets, and you wiggle around until you’re facing the other side, staring at the bulletin board, your own face frozen in time staring back at you.

You look different. You look like you’re in a haze of contented bliss, a peaceful state of happiness, safe and secure, tucked between the two of them without a care in the world.

Why did it change? Who changed it? When? How?

The questions echo as you piece through the last few months in your mind, trying to place where the original seeds of darkness sprouted from, to find where the murky thoughts and feelings really came from, their roots, their birth.

This process, this seeking, makes your hands shake against the sheets. It makes your legs twitch, feet rubbing against each other while your chest tightens. Dread, panic, shame, all twist and turn through your mind, pinpointing your weaknesses and failures, exposing you to yourself like the fool you are.

They’re trying. Are you?

You don’t need the answers, not truly. You know where the blame lies. You know what happened. You know the part you played; you know the parts the guys played.

You stare at the wall and try to count the patterns in the concrete, willing your brain to focus, willing yourself to pull up, pull out, put your head on straight. The sound of blood rushing in your ears is deafening, loud enough that you think someone may hear it down the hall. May hear you, succumbing to yourself.

It feels like drowning.

They could pull you out. Simon could fix it. They could make it better.

But would they? Could he, now? When nothing is the same?

The memory from leaving the hotel ripples across your heart like a familiar melody, acid burning in your calves as you blink and shudder.

Simon, holding your nape, Johnny, holding you to him in the elevator, in the car.

“Stay with us darling. Stay here. With us.”

You wonder if it will ever be the same again.

You hate this one as much as the last.

Your mouth pulls into a frown, hands resting on your hips as you stare at the canvas in front of you, rotating your head from left to right, like that will make you see it better. Like that will bring it into focus.

The colors are wrong. They don’t harmonize, they don’t crest and swell together like you had envisioned. They don’t blend in a cacophony of floral silhouettes like you saw in your mind.

Instead, they look like a storming sea. Darker hues overpowering the light, like thunder through daybreak.

Maybe you could fix it? Or maybe, you should just abandon this technique. Maybe you could-

There’s a knock at your door.

It’s not light, or gentle, but firm, ringing out in rapid succession and you jerk.

Who could that be? You’re not expecting anyone until-

Oh. Oh no. Oh god. Oh no, no no.

Your eyes dart frantically around the art room before you're shoving the two brushes from your hands into a tray and tripping out into your living room.

“Oh my god.” You gulp out loud to no one but yourself, the person who has spent the last three, possibly four days in a haze, a painting binge, trying to escape the stress of your job, of life, of this… thing that’s going on with Simon and Johnny.

Trying to escape yourself. Your thoughts. Your feelings.

Your flat expresses it well. You think, possibly, it could appear like it had been ransacked. Your clothes are everywhere. Draped over your tiny loveseat couch, shoved between cushions and pillows. Two-day old toast sits on your kitchen counter, accompanying two, three, four coffee mugs that are filled with varying levels of liquid. Your uneaten dinner from last night sits on a plate next to the trash can, your oats from the other morning sit cold in the sink.

A prescription bottle that hasn’t been touched in four days, lurks on the kitchen counter with a handwritten note taped beneath it:

“You HAVE to, or you’ll regret it.”

Another knock sounds at your door, thumping followed by the sound of your phone vibrating next to the stove.

Your left sock has a swipe of chartreuse across it. Your overalls are tacky with dried paint. You can vaguely feel your hands touching your hair, your neck, hovering above where your heart hammers.

You can’t let them see you like this.

They’ve never seen you like this.

This is supposed to be light. It’s fun. It’s… not real. They’re not with you. They cannot see.

You take a deep breath.

Maybe you can pass it off. You can… say you’re sorry for the mess, that you’re sorting through things for donation. And you don’t have to lie about painting. That will explain the clothes.

You take a breath, and then open the door to find Johnny on the other side, happily smiling at you, mohawk shining in the light of the hall. He looks you up and down briefly, and you freeze, waiting.

Waiting for him to say something nasty, something hurtful. Waiting for him to reprimand you for failing, to accuse you of being useless, helpless. Waiting for him to tell you he doesn’t have time to deal with this. That you should be better, do a better job of taking care of yourself.

“- and he’ll just be a minute, but we’re so excited, been thinkin’ about ye all week. We had such a good time before we left, really loved sharing those days with you.” What? You blink. He cocks his head. “Love? Y’alright?”

“Yeah.” You answer, voice monotone. Somewhere, trapped beneath layers and layers of the worst pieces, you’re screaming. You’re aching. You’re desperate.

“This all paint?” He motions to the splatters and stains, and you nod robotically. “I remember, you mentioned that last time… that you paint. I uh, draw sometimes.” Of course, he draws. Because he’s beautiful, and perfect. He rubs his neck almost sheepishly before raising an eyebrow at you.

Oh. Right.

“D-do you… want to come in?” You offer it meekly. Please say no. say no, say you’ll wait out in there, say you don’t want to.

“Sure, thanks.” Fuck. He steps by you as you motion, brushing against you closely, close enough that the butterflies flutter and you can feel the heat of him. “This is cozy, yeah?” He gestures to your flat from the kitchen, and you nod again. On autopilot.

All you can see is the food, untouched, uneaten. Evidence of your struggle. A water bottle that’s full to brim. The coffee cups, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to wash. All you can feel is your own skin, dry around your mouth, your nose, and oily everywhere else, your dirty clothes heavy against your body. You can feel your teeth, your tongue, unbrushed, unclean in your mouth, jaw clicking while your grind your molars.

You shouldn’t have let him in. He’s going to see. He’s going to hate you. Hate this.

The room spins.

“Hey,” There’s a hand, on your arm. It’s big and soft, and sweet and you blink again. “Darling.” There it is. That pet name. That nick name. That name that’s quickly becoming your own. The one that makes you feel warm, safe, cherished. The one that makes you feel like this is something more.

You hate it.

You love it.

“What is it?” Johnny’s handsome face peers down at you, concern worrying across his brow.

“N-nothing.” You try to lead him off, but your breathing stutters through your nose, and he looks alarmed.

There’s a new knock at your door, heavy and quick, and you both turn to look just as Simon is filling the door frame, half of his face hidden with the black mask that he always wears.

He watches you. Like a predator. His eyes flick from you, to Johnny, to the kitchen… the living room.

It's like there’s a train sitting on your chest.

“Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He says softly, clicking the door shut behind him. As soon as it’s secure, the mask comes off, and he’s focused on you, eyes not leaving your face, moving closer and closer until he’s upon you and Johnny, huge hand coming to hold your elbow. “What’s going on?” He murmurs, but it’s not for you. Even if it was, you cannot answer. There’s a train sitting on your chest, after all.

“Ah dinnae ken.” Johnny answers immediately, while his palm works up and down your arm in a calming pattern.

“Darling?” Simon cups your cheek. Ever since he showed you his face, he’s been… like this. Intuitive. Too intuitive. Too keen. Like he already knows. Like he’s been waiting.

“I-“ you try to tell him it’s nothing. That you’re tired. All of your lies flit through your head, the stories you wanted to concoct to explain everything away but nothing comes out. Not even your breath.

The room spins again, but this time so does your head. The floor feels like it’s tilting, or maybe it’s your feet that are off balance. You’re not sure. You feel light though, like your legs don’t even exist. Like your knees aren’t real.

“Shite.” Johnny swears, and lunges, hands darting out to catch you before the world goes black.

“Are you asleep?” There’s a whisper, like a soft touch, against your ear. It’s enough to prickle, enough to crack a smile across your lips, and you press your face into the blankets while strong hands shift your hips.

“I dinnae, might be.” Johnny hums, stroking fingertips down your ribs. It tickles, forcing a breathy giggle from your mouth that’s met with another’s, lips moving with yours while you melt away in a pile of partners and pillows.

“How was the meeting?” You whisper. Simon cradles you to his back, warmth bleeding through his shirt to your skin, and you shimmy closer, pressing hard until you’re flush with him, Johnny watching the two of you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Standard.” Simon answers. “Thought about you the whole time.” He kisses your cheek, arm reaching for Johnny who obliges, nestling himself against your chest. You focus on them, taking long, deep breaths, keeping yourself above water, keeping the murky depths at bay, for now.

It’s better, when they’re here. It’s always better, when you’re together.

“Thinkin’ about ye asleep in our bed, bare cunt on our sheets enough to drive me mad.” Johnny groans, fingers skating across your hip bone. You’re not wearing underwear, just a giant sweatshirt, one of theirs, though you’re not sure who’s.

Lust roars to life between your legs, desire, want, has you clenching, but you try shove it away.

It’s too much, too soon. You’re too… off center. You’ll lose yourself.

But they’re here. They’ll put you back together. Simon won’t let you fall.

It’s not a good idea.

You want it. You want them. Need them.

The back and forth makes your head hurt.

“I- I’m not ready.” You blurt, and he freezes, pulling his hand free immediately but you grab onto it, desperate to have his touch, to feel him.

Guilt burns in your heart.

“Of course, darling.”

“I’m sorry… I want to I just-“

“You never have to apologize.” Simon rumbles and you shake your head.

“I know but, I feel bad. Guilty.”

“Look at me.” He urges, and you shift, all while clutching Johnny’s hand in yours. “We love you. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about. We will be here when you are ready, but there’s no rush.” He strokes a thumb across your cheek, and you lean into it, eyes slipping closed. “I think I’d be more worried if you were ready to jump right into sex, after everything.” Johnny hums his agreement and presses a warm kiss to your shoulder.

“Let’s take a nap then?” He suggests, and you pull his arm to your chest, rocking between the two of them until you’re effectively sandwiched, comfortable, and secure, just the way you like it.

The way you dream about it.

The way you can only hope it might be, from now until forever.

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #soap x ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley

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