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mypoisonedvine · 3 months

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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader

sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!

part 3 coming soon!

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck. “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”

“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.

“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.

“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed. “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties. And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”

He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress. “I swear, you’re a dream come true. A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”

You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other. With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet. Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully. Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much. If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly. When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.

“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined. “We already went twice—”

“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”

You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.

“See? You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone. “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby…”

Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive. When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power. You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically. But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted. Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down.

He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come. These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to. Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.

You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment. “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”

“Yes,” you hissed under your breath. Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you. “Fuck!”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”

He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin. “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”

“You take it just fine,” he assured. “You take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.

“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you. Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place. But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…

His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands. “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.

He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper. “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you. When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.

“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin. “God, I just— fuck—”

He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin. “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”

“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.

“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”

You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed. “Please fuck me.”

“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead. He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it. “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.

It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible. “You’re fucking perfect.”

You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.

You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck. “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge. “I feel good too, right?”

Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that. He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you. “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.

“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.

“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”

“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked. His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up. Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.

He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear. “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.

“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear. “I want you to fill me—”

“Fuck…”

“And put all your come so deep in me—”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined again. “I’m so fucking close.”

You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…

“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over. “Angus, I—”

“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”

You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck. “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”

“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.

“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened. You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on. “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”

“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded. “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together. That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”

“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged. “Thinking about us making a baby right now? Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”

“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.

“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations? “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell. You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”

Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.

“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred. “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight. “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right? Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that. Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it. “Fuck! I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.

He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.

You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation. But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.

He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away. “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.

“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face. “You weren’t serious, right? I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”

“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him. “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”

“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained. “‘Cause it’s, like, bad. Well, not bad, but… scary. In a good way! Like a rollercoaster or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster. That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”

“You know what I mean,” he laughed. “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race. See?”

He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness. “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”

“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose. “You like being mine, too.”

Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.

“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”

“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.

You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn. “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed. “You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter. “I bet I can make you come again—”

“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”

“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”

“I swear to god, Angus—”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”

He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye. They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.

“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.

“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.

“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.

“Yes you can,” you breathed. “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”

“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.

“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”

“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!”

“He was young once, right? He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.

“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”

“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly. “It’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled back.

There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.

“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.

“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended. “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”

“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough. I’ll see you at Mass.”

He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.

Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you. His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.

You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful. The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.

When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.

And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter. That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.

But you were looking across the aisle at him, too. If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.

After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk. “It’s been too long.”

He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.

“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face. His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way. You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.

“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words. “That’s really… yeah.”

“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.

“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you cooed. “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.

“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”

“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly. “I, um… I thought about you, too.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered. “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”

“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.

“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”

“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again. “We’ll figure something out— just not here. It’s too risky.”

“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you. “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”

You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you. “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.

Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction. “You go find an empty room in the east wing. I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”

“Great,” he beamed. “Uh, which way is east again?”

You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd. You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home. Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.

As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway. As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.

“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs. “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.

“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”

He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.

Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear. “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”

You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.

“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.

“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.

He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.

“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly. “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.

“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”

“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.

“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.

One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress. You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.

“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.

“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”

“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter. He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak. He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.

He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.

Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway. He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants. As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”

He bit his lip.

“It’s not sexy, Angus! It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.

“It’s both,” he insisted. “It’s very much both.”

Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately. Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way. See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.

He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.

It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while. And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least. But inside, you were terrified. You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick. You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…

“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.

“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.

“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified. “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”

“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.

But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject. “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”

“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”

“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch. “I wanted to, you know, talk. About something.”

“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.

“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink. “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”

“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.

“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted. You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk. The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk. You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.

“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously. “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything. It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”

“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say. I knew you’d understand.”

You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding. “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh. “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”

“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted. “I had a good time. We’ll call it even.”

“And… when I come back?” he pressed. “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”

You grinned and tilted your head. “Yeah, I like that idea.”

“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course!” you beamed. “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.

“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”

You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time. And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.

Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.

And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.

[series masterlist here]

#angus tully x reader #angus tully smut

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covetyou · 2 months

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egg hunt

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.

A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!

These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.

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You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.

No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.

You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.

The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.

It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.

"The fucker..."

Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.

But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...

Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.

"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.

"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.

Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."

"And the difference is...?"

"Eggs."

You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.

"Eggs?"

You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.

"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"

"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."

He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.

Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."

It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.

"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"

"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."

"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."

"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.

"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."

"Don't it?"

"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."

"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"

You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.

"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.

"Real funny."

"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.

"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"

"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."

"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.

You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.

"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.

"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."

The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin as you look at him expectantly. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.

It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.

Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.

"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."

Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.

Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, not trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.

"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"

"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings bursts open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.

In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.

"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.

As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.

"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."

The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.

"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.

Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."

Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth over his cock until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.

"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.

"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.

"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.

"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"

"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."

And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.

"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."

"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"

"Mhm."

"Shit."

A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.

"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."

Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.

"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."

"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"

But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.

He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.

Then you stop.

Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.

You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.

"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.

It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.

There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.

"Good, because I prefer it like this too."

"Fuck, yeah."

Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.

He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.

"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."

He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.

Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.

He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.

Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.

"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.

He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.

But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.

"I'm gonna -"

"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.

"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"

He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.

You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.

Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.

Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.

"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."

"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"

If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.

Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.

You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.

So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.

Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.

"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"

"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."

Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.

"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.

"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"

"... Maybe? Yes?"

"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."

"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.

"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."

Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.

"Oh. I - I thought..."

"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"

"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.

"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."

You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"

"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"

A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"

"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."

"Down the street?"

"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."

"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"

It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.

"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"

Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.

The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.

"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.

"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"

"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.

"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.

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half-oz-eddie · 2 months

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🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better.

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk.

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it.

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her.

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there.

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered.

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.”

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy.

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely.

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down.

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned.

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down.

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked.

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled. “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch.

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them.

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday.

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating.

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.”

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery.

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk.

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind.

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’

#billy and max #billy hargrove #max mayfield #steve harrington #harringrove #ivy.doc #calikids.doc

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devildomwriter · 2 months

Text

A Devildom Easter Egg Extravaganza

Diavolo decides to hold an Easter egg hunt. Shenanigans ensue.

Slight x reader for Lucifer, Diavolo, Mephistopheles, Barbatos

[Student Council Room]

Lucifer: “You really mean to hold…an Easter egg hunt?”

Diavolo: “Why, yes! I think it will be great fun!”

Mephistopheles: “My Lord, everything you do is brilliant!”

Diavolo: “Thank you!”

Mephistopheles: “However…this holiday is in celebration of everything we are against…as is Christmas for that matter but that’s become popular here recently…”

Diavolo: *nodding* “Yes. I understand that these holidays traditionally represent and celebrate our opposites. So celebrating them not only promotes goodwill with the angels and religious exchange students but also draws attention away from its original purpose.”

Lucifer: “I see, so that’s your angle.”

Mephistopheles: “Am I missing something?”

Lucifer: “We are celebrating and promoting the secular traditions instead. Celebrating bunnies, eggs, and candy rather than my father and father-brother.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha.”

Mephistopheles: “Father-brother?”

Lucifer: “We’re done discussing this.”

Diavolo: “Anyway. I think it would be great fun to hide eggs all around RAD for the exchange students and any willing RAD students to join in. I understand it may not be especially popular with demons but I do want to incorporate holidays important to others too. It is vital to accept and learn about each other’s cultures and traditions to better respect and understand each other.”

Barbatos: “Well said, my lord.”

Mephistopheles: “In that case, I’d be more than happy to promote this in the newspaper! Leave it to me.”

Diavolo: “Thank you, Mephistopheles. I knew I could count on you!”

[Purgatory Hall]

Luke: “A what?”

Solomon: “An Easter egg hunt.”

Raphael: “We’ll be busy.”

MC: “Oh, really…”

Simeon: “Yes, we must celebrate our father-brother, after all.”

MC: “That’s such a weird way to say Jesus.”

Raphael: “Those are the only words in your language to accurately describe him.”

MC: “Right. Will you really be in the celestial realm all day though?”

Simeon: “Umm well…”

Raphael: *glaring* “We should be.”

Luke: “…”

Solomon: “You’re going to make Luke sad.”

Luke: “Wh! Hey!”

Raphael: “Luke has no reason to be sad.”

MC: “C’mon Raph, you can’t make a kid miss an Easter egg hunt. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Raphael: “That’s an inaccurate description of cruel and unusual punishment.”

MC: “But it’s true though.”

Raphael: *sigh* “I suppose we can come back after service and the banquet.”

Simeon: “Wonderful!”

Luke: “Yay! Sir Raphael, you’re the best!”

MC: “Okay, the angels are in. Let’s go tell Thirteen.”

Solomon: “I believe Diavolo already has.”

MC: “Really?”

Solomon: “Yes. He said something about some eggs containing special surprises.”

Raphael: “I have a bad feeling about this…”

[Lucifer’s Private Study]

Lucifer: “I have a headache already.”

Solomon: “Hahahaha!”

MC: “So he’s really having her rig the eggs?”

Lucifer: “Many of them yes. I fear she’s taking it overboard, hoping Solomon will find them all.”

Solomon: “How thoughtful.”

Lucifer: “How can you be wise and yet so oblivious, honestly?”

Solomon: “It just shows she’s thinking of me. She really is a good friend.”

MC: “You may need better friends.”

Lucifer: “Considering most of them want to kill you, I’d have to agree.”

Solomon: “Most? I wouldn’t say that most of them do.”

MC: “Even some of them is an issue…”

Solomon: “Well, regardless I think this hunt will be fun. You’ll be participating yes?”

MC: “I already asked if I could hide them instead.”

Solomon: “You’d like to hide them? Not find them?”

MC: “I used to hide them for the neighborhood kids. They’d still turn up years later.”

Solomon: “Don’t you suppose that’s too good at hiding them?”

MC: “You can never be too good at something unless it’s illegal.”

Solomon: “I…suppose that’s true.”

Lucifer: “That is a flawed argument and the fact you think that makes my headache worse, please leave Solomon.”

Solomon: “Only me?”

Lucifer: “That’s what I said.”

Solomon: “Wow, so cruel, Lucifer. I suppose I’ll see you this weekend.”

Lucifer: “Yes, goodbye now.”

MC: “Soooo…what’d you want to talk about?”

Lucifer: “Nothing, I just wanted him to leave and your company soothes me.”

MC: “I thought I was giving you a headache?”

Lucifer: “You do, but it’s nothing compared to Mammon.”

MC: “That’s fair.”

MC: “So are you going to compete?”

Lucifer: “Finding the eggs?”

MC: “Yeah.”

Lucifer: *smirks* “Will I get a reward if I do?”

MC: “Hmm…maybe?”

Lucifer: “I see…then I suppose I will.”

MC: “Yes! This going to be so much fun!” *hugs*

Lucifer: *blushes* “Only you could make me so excited about this holiday.”

[The Day Before Easter | RAD]

Diavolo: “Oh, MC! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be hiding these with you!”

MC: “About that…don’t you want to participate?”

Diavolo: “I think preparing it is just as exciting! Besides, there will be some places by Barbatos too and I won’t know where those are.”

MC: “So, you’ll be looking for the ones he hid?”

Diavolo: “Yes, as I oversee everything.”

MC: “Good, I love to see you have fun!”

Diavolo: “I feel the same way. Hopefully, you’ll do a bit of searching too?”

MC: “Sure, I’ll walk with you and we’ll see who finds them first.”

Diavolo: “A competition? How fun! I can hardly wait.”

Barbatos: “Young master, here are the baskets.”

MC: “That’s…a lot of eggs.”

Diavolo: “Yes, this may take us all night, I’m so excited.”

Barbatos: “MC, be careful not to trigger the traps.”

MC: “How would I know?”

Barbatos: “They’re in separate baskets, just handle them more delicately and take care they don’t open up, even the slightest bit.”

MC: “Right…”

Diavolo: “Oh my, look how this own sparkles, MC, isn’t it just—“

MC: “Where’d he go!?”

Barbatos: “And I just warned him too…”

MC: “Okay, but where did he go?”

In the distance, you hear roaring laughter and look to see a light on in RAD.

MC: “I found him.”

Barbatos: *sigh* “I suppose I should supervise this shouldn’t I?”

MC: “It’ll be okay, I’ll protect him.”

Barbatos: “Ever so reliable, MC. It’s what I love most about you.”

MC: *blushing* “G-Glad you feel that way.”

A small explosion sounds from inside.

MC: “He’s…not being careful. At all.”

Barbatos: “Good luck.”

MC: “What’ve I done?”

[A Few Hours Later]

Diavolo sits next to you on the RAD lawn covered in pink and yellow powder, hair spiked, and hands puffy and pink.

MC: “Sooo….”

Diavolo: “That was so much fun!”

MC: “Thirteen wasn’t happy about resetting them all though.”

Diavolo: “Yes, I did apologize.”

MC: “I think she laughed hard enough to forgive you.”

Diavolo: “Yes it was quite excessive.”

MC: “That’s rich coming from you.”

Diavolo: “Hm? What do you mean?”

MC: “If you laughed and a bomb went off at the same time, I’d hear you.”

Diavolo: “Pfft! Ahahahahaha.”

MC: “My point exactly. Anyway…Barbatos will skin me alive if you come back looking like this.”

You take his hands and whisper an incantation, lips close to his inflamed hands. The pink vanished and his hands returned to normal. Diavolo let out a sigh of relief.

Diavolo: “Thank goodness. That was quite itchy.”

MC: “Now all you need is a serious bath.”

Diavolo: “Oh, will you be giving it to me?”

MC: “Wh—“

Diavolo: “Ahahahaha! I’m only kidding.”

MC: “That’s a shame.”

Diavolo: “What?”

MC: “What?”

Diavolo: *sigh* “Why don’t we go get some rest and meet early again tomorrow before the others arrive.”

MC: “Sounds like a plan.”

Diavolo smiles and ruffles your hair. You attempt to do the same but your hand gets stuck to his gelled hair, the result of an egg surprise. You stare at him, hand stuck in his hair and he stares back at you when a familiar person clears their throat.

Thirteen: “Uh…the eggs have been reset. Am I interrupting something?”

Diavolo: “We seem to be stuck.”

Thirteen: “Hahahah! Serves you right, anyway I’m headed out.”

MC: “You’re gonna leave us here?”

Thirteen: “Yes!”

Diavolo: “I see…I suppose we should call Barbatos?”

MC: “Yeah…”

[Early the next morning | House of Lamentation]

Asmodeus: “MC! You’re finally back! Where’ve you been all night? Don’t tell me you- ooooh!”

Lucifer lightly smacks Asmodeus over the back of the head.

Asmodeus: “Ow! Lucifer you big meanie.”

Lucifer: “Don’t imply such things.”

Asmodeus: “But they were gone aaaalll night. Isn’t that right? And who were they with? The hunky—“

Lucifer: “Be quiet.”

Mammon: “What’s goin’ on down here!?”

Mammon: “Hey! MC! You’re finally back!”

Satan: “I was getting worried.”

Belphegor: “Mmhm.”

MC: “One of Thirteen’s traps went off…”

Lucifer: “I see. That explains things then.”

Asmodeus: “Boo. I was hoping for some gossip.”

Belphegor: “That’s the same thing as saying you hope Diavolo and MC hooked up.”

Mammon: “Hold on, what happened!?”

Satan: “Nothing happened, Mammon. Pay attention.”

MC: “My hand got stuck to Diavolo, that’s all.”

Beelzebub: “Stuck?”

Mammon: “Huh? Stuck where!”

MC: “His head.”

Asmodeus: “Which o—“

All: “Shut up, Asmo!”

You got a few hours of rest before your alarm went off. You already had good morning texts from the angels reminding you of the importance of the day and you smiled and sighed. You changed into your Easter outfit and put on the rabbit ear headband Diavolo insisted all participants wear.

[Easter Morning | RAD Courtyard]

Diavolo: “MC! I’m so glad you’re here!”

MC: “As promised.”

Barbatos: “Good. Participants should be showing up in a few hours and—“

Mephistopheles: “Good morning everyone.”

Diavolo: “Ah, good morning, Mephistopheles.”

Mephistopheles: “Hm? You still have baskets?”

MC: “We couldn’t finish hiding them all…there was a mishap.”

Mephistopheles: “Oh? Of what nature.”

Barbatos: “The details aren’t necessary. Why don’t you take a few pictures of the setup before we begin? See if you can spot an egg and photograph it.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. And MC.”

MC: “Hm?”

Mephistopheles: “Happy Easter?”

MC: “Aww! Thank you Mephisto, that means a lot coming from you.”

Mephistopheles: “What does that mean?”

Diavolo: “I’m so glad to see you embracing change, Mephistopheles. Very well done!”

Mephistopheles: “Naturally! One can’t help but be swayed by your genius and example, my lord.”

MC: *muttering* “Here we go.”

Barbatos: *chuckles*

After a few hours You, Diavolo, and Barbatos had finished hiding the rest of the eggs and just sat down by the sign-in booth when you heard a loud scream coming from RAD.

Barbatos: *sigh* “I told him to photograph the egg not open it.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha!”

Barbatos left swiftly to investigate and as soon as he vanished around the corner, a loud group approached the booth.

Lucifer: “We’ve arrived. I apologize if we’re late.”

Satan: “Yes, someone wouldn’t wake up.”

Belphegor: *zzz*

Asmodeus: “I can’t believe the bunny ears are staying on even though he’s slumped over Beel’s shoulder. I have to get a picture.”

Beelzebub: “Asmo…”

Asmodeus: “What? It might generate more attention for the event, right?”

Diavolo: “Wonderful idea, Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus: “Thank you!”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Mammon: “So…I heard there’d be a prize.”

Leviathan: “Two minutes, I called it.”

Asmodeus: “Tch, I really thought it’d be sooner.”

Mammon: “Huh? Are you betting on me? Without me?”

Satan: “That wouldn’t make any sense idiot.”

Lucifer: “All of you shut up and sign in.”

Leviathan: “Eep! Okay.”

The brothers signed their names. Beelzebub signed Belphegor in for him and you sat around and talked.

Mephistopheles returned with Barbatos looking very flustered and uncomfortable.

Lucifer: “What in the Devildom is that mess?”

Mephistopheles: “Thirteen.”

Lucifer: “Oh. So you set off a trap.”

Leviathan: “Does no one find it alarmingly easy to set them off? Like, didn’t even Lord Diavolo do that?”

You heard an amused chuckle from behind you.

Thirteen: “Duh. That’s what makes it fun.”

Barbatos: “Thirteen. What wonderful timing you have. Mind telling me what Mephistopheles is currently covered in?”

Thirteen: “That’s just a personal concoction of highly flammable spider web spray.”

Mephistopheles: “Of what!?”

Mammon: “Bahahaha!”

Mephistopheles: “Get it off of me this instant!”

MC: “Calm down Mephi, I got you.”

Mephistopheles: “Mephi?”

You brought forth a torrent of water to flush the web off Mephistopheles and then a gust of wind to blow him and his clothes dry.

He was left momentarily stunned before he sighed, patted himself down, and smoothed out his hair.

Barbatos turned on the bright lights around RAD to illuminate the lawn as the other students showed up. The presence of more than a few students elated Diavolo and the happy gleam in his eyes made all the trouble worth it.

Near the end of the thirteenth hour, a beam appeared from the sky. At first, everyone stumbled back in fear but as it disappeared, Simeon, Raphael, and Luke appeared in its place.

Barbatos: “I could’ve opened the portal.”

Raphael: “This was faster.”

Mammon: “Gave me a freakin’ heart attack!”

Raphael: “Why?”

Luke: “MC! I’m here!”

MC: “Hello, Luke! Your Easter uniform is so cute!”

Luke: “Huh? I’m supposed to look gentlemanly not cute!”

Simeon: “You can be both.”

Luke: “No I can’t!”

Solomon: “Good morning everyone. I’m not late am I?”

Simeon: “No. We just arrived.”

Raphael was looking around from the sign-in booth, already scanning the area for eggs as though it were a mission. It gave you chills to see his serious expression but at the same time made you laugh because this was only an Easter egg hunt.

You noticed that Lucifer was doing the same thing but he was being slightly less obvious about it, giving himself reasons to be turned in a certain direction rather than just openly staring.

Luke: “MC! Will you be on my team?”

Mammon: “What? We’re forming teams!?”

Solomon: “Are we?”

Barbatos: *shaking his head* “I suppose if you wanted to you could however anything you find would be evenly split between you and not counted as a whole.”

Satan: “Every demon for themself.”

Lucifer: “I agree.”

Satan: “I’m no longer certain.”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Diavolo: “Hahahaha!”

Belphegor: “Mm…quiet.”

Beelzebub: “Belphie, are you awake?”

Belphegor: “What…what’s on my head?”

Asmodeus: “Those are your bunny ears! And you look adorable!”

Belphegor: “Ugh. Kill me now.”

Asmodeus: “Your sleepy bunny pic has already generated so many likes!”

Belphegor: “My what?”

MC: “So how was the sermon? Is that what it was?”

Luke: *sobbing*

MC: “What’d I do?”

Simeon: “Each year, we visit the past to review the events before and during Easter and the future it will bring.”

MC: “That sounds emotionally traumatic.”

Raphael: “It is. And now we’re here. Looking for eggs…”

Mammon: “Just as father intended!”

Raphael pulls out his spear and Mammon takes off.

MC: “He deserves that right?”

Asmodeus: “Mhm.”

Lucifer: “Honestly…”

Thirteen: “He’s got some guts to piss an angel off on Easter.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. Especially when it’s about their father slash brother or something…”

MC: “Speaking of father and brother…”

You looked between Lucifer and Satan as they watched you. They looked at each other, back at you and Satan bared his fangs as his brothers and Diavolo managed to contain their laughter.

Satan: “Not another word!”

Beelzebub: “They didn’t say anything.”

Solomon: “Hahaha! I get it. Because Lucifer and Satan have the same dynamic.”

As Raphael runs past you he protests this idea and continues after Mammon who’s tripping over bushes in his escape attempt.

Diavolo: “Should we stop them?”

Simeon: “He earned it.” *scary smile*

Luke: “Simeon. You have that scary look in your eyes again.”

Simeon: “Oh, do I? My apologies.”

MC: “Anyway…it’s a good idea you came here after so Luke can recover from his trauma a little more easily.”

Luke: “It never goes away.”

Mephistopheles: “I’m not sure I like the haunted look in your eye.”

Solomon: “It’s weird when Luke is serious.”

Luke: “Hey what does that mean!? I’m always serious.”

Mephistopheles: “Good he’s back.”

Simeon: “Ah, yes. It does weigh heavily on us angels. Thank you for this event, Diavolo.”

Diavolo: “Yes, of course! Speaking of, it’s just about time to begin. Can someone go fetch Mammon and Raphael?”

Lucifer: “I’ll do it.”

Beelzebub: “I’ll go with him.”

Belphegor: “Set me down somewhere first.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Belphegor is placed gently on top of a bush as Beelzebub runs after Lucifer. He begins sinking into the bush and you and the others watch as the branches begin to slowly snap and he disappears into the leaves.

As soon as Raphael and Mammon are reeled in and Mammon is forced to grovel for an apology, Diavolo is given the microphone and you, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Mephistopheles work together to hand everyone a woven basket to place their found eggs in.

Diavolo: “Everyone will have an hour to find as many eggs as possible, they are everyone beyond this booth on the RAD ground and I do mean everywhere so give it your best shot!”

Diavolo: “Many of the eggs contain wonderful surprises! Coupons for your favorite cafes, gift cards for your favorite stores, Grimm, fun tokens, cup-cuties, and more! But beware because there are also eggs that contain a wide variety of tricks of all kinds! You should expect flesh-eating piranha plants, bees, angry spiders, blasts of spider webs, teleportation, and potential small explosions!”

Luke and Mammon turned white but the demon students seemed extra excited by this news. Danger was an everyday occurrence for them and simply counted as fun or mildly inconvenient at best. As a human, you had a protection spell placed upon you in case of minor explosions. Luke and Simeon also had protective spells. Raphael opted to forgo this as he “wasn’t weak.”

With a wide smile, Diavolo raised his hand and everyone gathered into groups or faced the directions they planned to scour.

Diavolo: “On your marks!”

Diavolo: “Get ready!”

Diavolo: “Set!”

Diavolo: “GO!”

The ground shook as the hundreds of demons, three angels, reaper, and human sprinted past the booth.

You laughed and Diavolo helped you regain balance and handed you your basket.

Diavolo: “Shall we go observe?”

An explosion went off.

MC: “Yes!”

Barbatos trailed far behind you and Diavolo so you could talk more privately. You passed by students stuck to walls with spider webs. Students dressed more oddly than when they’d arrived. You passed by Mammon hanging from the ceiling and weren’t sure whether it had been Raphael, Lucifer, or a genuine trap. Either way, Diavolo burst into laughter alerting the others to your location immediately.

Barbatos cut Mammon down and you continued to walk with your empty basket as you enjoyed the sounds of chaos all around you.

Diavolo eyed your basket and nudged you gently.

Diavolo: “Is there someone you were hoping to go find eggs with?”

(To be continued | the remaining story with be different based on the character you choose to go with. They are all currently being written and will all be released in the following week unless unforeseen circumstances delay the writing)

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miguelhugger2099 · 1 month

Note

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality.

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.”

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered.

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck.

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.”

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples.

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil.

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks.

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back.

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?”

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself.

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

HAL, HEAR ME OUT !!! ghost coming home to wis wife on Easter, he thought he wouldnt manage to come back home in time, but Price dismisses him earlier, so he decides to surprise her by making a egg hunt for her, something she always said she liked to do when she was little, I KNOW THIS IS A SPECIFIC REQUEST, FEEL FREE TO DENY DEARIE, i just really love easter loool (and simon too)

love ur works, hal ❤

A Good Man

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts, allusions to Simon's past & trauma, delving into his psyche, angst, but a lot of fluff, Simon's POV

A/N: I knew I had to get this out before Easter actually came around so here it is early, Anon! This was an adorable request. Enjoy and have a happy holiday! <3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it.

Skin shredded; showing every tear and rip with a thinly veiled sense of pride along with a detailed description of every bullet wound and burn. Rope tears along the forearms and red stab marks over the visible spine of his back. Tattoos that depict skeletons and war. He couldn’t tell you every life he had ended, but he could name names until his tongue went black and fell off; though he spared you the details.

Simon Riley was a devil incarnate. Dead-eyed and robust of body. Muscles wound with promised death and the trigger finger to prove it. His life was measured in an hourglass, the sand cascading down like the blood from his knife after a kill; it would stop flowing, one day – abrupt and final. Simon Riley was a demon, a monster. Simon Riley was a Ghost.

A ghost with an impeccable memory and a deep love for the woman currently on the living room couch.

The man blinks, slate eyes taking in the steady rise and fall of your chest with a slow melting of his shoulders. He had a doubt that you had planned to fall asleep with the Tv on – or the floor lamp, for that matter.

Its golden light slipped over your form, and he traced the flow of it as the voice of the news anchor went in one ear and out the other. Gradually, a hand slipped to the balaclava over his head as your lips let loose a grumble, nose nuzzling the feather pillow.

Simon often found himself watching you sleep when he was home; how your face would lose all tension in those brief intermissions between oblivion and awakeness. When his own nights were restless, it helped to know that at least someone was at ease, especially if it was you. The fabric slips from his tired visage, the mess of blonde locks atop his head sticking this way and that; layered with the gleam of grease. As the black face-paint stains his sockets and spreads with a swipe of a stiff palm, the ever-constant cloud over his head peels back but for a brief moment of peace.

His bag was still in the foyer, holding three months of dirty clothes and gear hostage in its zipped space; stained, and bloodied. The man himself wasn’t much better.

It had been a long few months.

Hooking the balaclava onto the belt of his cargo pants, Simon bends down on an achy knee, a grunt in his throat sounding off like a boar. Scarred fingers go to brush your cheek, though no words exit his mouth, no whispers of adoration. Just a glimmer in his eyes, a release of that furrowed line in the center of his forehead that seemed permanent these days.

Staring, the faint twitch of his lips is the only tell at all that he was content at all, feeling your skin as a feather would slide over water. He takes down a breath.

There were few instances that Simon fully remembers from his childhood – most displaced in the back of his mind with a barbed wire fence and a door with no keyhole – though there is one he refuses to lock away. His mother. He can’t help it, and before he can stop himself the words are spilling directly from his heart to his mouth.

Hell, he really must be tired.

“She’d of loved you, Sweetheart.” It’s like he’s startled by his own voice, head pulling back and walls going back up, but that delicate glimpse was enough.

A gravel voice and manchester accent bleed together to form some piece of the puzzle that was his pure adoration for you; small cardboard cuts and divots that had been given over to create a picture. Simon Riley was a ghost, yes, the Ghost, but he was never that when he was home.

He was just Simon to you.

Blue eyes study the small smile that blesses your face when the man runs his fingers into your hair and attentively separates knots; your body unconsciously molding to his touch. With a kiss on your forehead, Simon chooses to not wake you. It’s late, the man reasons, and he knows how hard it is for you to sleep when he’s gone. Almost as hard as it is for him when he can’t feel your weight on the opposite side of the thin mattress he’s cursed with in the barracks.

Against his better judgment, he’d learned to love your contact; your presence next to him and the way you fit into his arms.

As gently as he’s able, the black ink of his tattooed arm slips under your shoulders, pushing between the cushion and your limp body to lie still. The other hooks around your knees, and with a pause to make sure you weren't going to wake up, Simon lifts you as easily as a piece of paper. Your weight lays comfortingly against his chest, shallow breath hitting his neck and he thinks for a moment just how it was possible to love something more than you can love anyone else that came before.

“Simon…” Your voice brings goosebumps to his forearms, his fingers tightening over the shirt he now recognizes as his own clothing you. A smirk runs over his face.

Lips caress his pulse, a nose taking in his scent of canvas and sweat; a tinge of barely restrained corruption, a soul more damaged than a window shattered into a million pieces.

How can you stand it? How could your body instinctively lay into him and give redemption willingly?

Simon grips you ever closer, using his own body heat to lull you back to oblivion. He didn’t have an answer – probably never would – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t forever grateful.

But he was a stiff man; a stoic one.

He slips through the bedroom door, navigating in the dark as if his eyes had built-in night vision, and hums out, “it’s me. Go on – back to sleep now, Love.”

Air communes with a soft grunt, and Simon watches from the side of his vision as your lids flicker open and closed. As desperate as the fight is, it’s over fairly quickly when he lowers you to the sheets, cupping your head and setting in on the pillow.

Soft fingers wrap his lower arm, and with trapped breath, Simon watches your lips connect to the pale skin of his wrist before your form once more goes slack; ever the stubborn one to greet him even half-gone. Weak mumbles stuck forming ‘welcome home’ and ‘love you’ on a lead tongue garble to nothingness like a gargoyle’s stone speech.

“Hmm.” The Lieutenant smirks as the area tingles, preening like a bird. There are many things to say to you, but he settles with a mumbled, “Don’t hog the sheets. Gotta go take care of the mess first, copy?”

You don’t answer, of course. With a delicate pet on your head, Simon exits the room silently to take a shower and organize his gear; closing the door behind him only halfway so he can still keep an eye on you as he passes. Ever the neat partner, he wouldn’t go to sleep until all were in their proper places – clothes in the washer, knives and various licensed weapons in the nightstand, and paperwork in the office.

There was a sanctity in this. A way to get rid of the lingering adrenaline of being on Base or in the field – deterioration of the mind but in such a way it would be described as a boil to a simmer.

All of it is uneventful.

He enters the kitchen with only a white towel around his waist sometime later, flicking on the lights and running his fingers through his damp hair before bee-lining to the fridge. If there needed to be a list made of the things he loved the most, it would be fairly short – only three.

One, you, two, the adrenaline rush of a good deployment, and, finally, your food.

Simon would listen to Johnny’s rambling for days if it ended with an excellent heaping plate of whatever you cooked for supper.

Opening the fridge, the man’s eyes widen, shimmering with azure glass.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sunshine,” he breathes to himself, hand reaching inside the box with fervor, “you’ve been busy, then, eh…? Bloody feast in ‘ere.”

The Lieutenant drags out a heaping plate of steak and potatoes – a side of greens covered in plastic and a sticky note on top.

‘Save for Simon.’

The food didn’t look older than a day or two…did you save him some of your meals every once and a while just in case he would show up?

He grunts, re-reading your chicken scratch with a swelling of his chest and a foreign heat on his cheeks. Simon moves to the oven, preheating it and placing a cooling rack on a metal pan over parchment paper. Damned if the man would mess up your masterpiece; he’d reheat it properly.

With minimal noise, he waits for the meat to be done and settles on placing the potatoes in the microwave with the greens for time's sake. Standing in the kitchen, his eyes gradually fall closed, their weight heavy. But his ears perk at the faint pitter-patter of bare feet.

The sneaking arms around his waist don’t startle him, and with a sigh on his lips, Simon feels you melt into the curve of his open skin. A head connecting with his spine.

“Thought I brought you back to bed?” He whispers, flesh melding to you like hot iron, a scarred hand resting over the one that’s on his abdomen.

Your nose nestles into the burns over his back, and even if you couldn’t see it – the sudden sweep of vulnerability is nearly heard. You lay a kiss and think no more of it, but Simon shivers with beautiful agony; eyes gazing off.

“...Erm,” you groan, fingers tracing the build of his ribs, “needed to hold you.” Your breath stills – half-asleep. “You’re…here?”

Simon chuckles, hearing it echo off the walls.

“I’m ‘ere, Love. Few more bloody cuts,” he breathes, “but I’m here.”

“Good. Missed you.” A second of kisses and distant blue eyes. Muffled yawns into his flesh. “Didn’t think you’d be back in time for Easter.”

Simon twists, aware of the delicate fold of his towel, and lifts your fatigued form onto the counter, settling you down so you don’t fall sideways. He blinks down at you, cupping your cheek when your neck gets too heavy to hold up. Your lids rapidly move, your nose scrunched at the overhead light and the man knows you’re only awake because he’s home.

He utters out to you, faces close, “The Old Man let me off early,” and lays a peck to your forehead, holding his lips there for a long second. Mutters into your skin, “prickly bastard’s been antsy – hasn’t had a good drink in weeks. Was about ready to strangle someone.”

She’s warm.

His body slots itself between your legs, one arm around your back and the other placed on the counter. Simon’s forehead falls to your shoulder, and with a groan of satisfaction, he feels your fingers go through his locks; itching at his scalp dreamily.

“...Dunno whether to thank him or send ‘em to a therapist.” You whisper, kissing his neck, unable to keep your hands off each other for a mere second.

“Better to place money on the both.” His grumbled words are barely heard. “I’ve got two weeks ‘fore they need me back.”

A soft hum is all he gets before the timer goes off and he takes down a breath, forcing himself to peel back from you and grab his supper.

By the time the both of you are in bed, he’d nearly forgotten about your comment, and as he stroked your hair and felt you bring him closer under the covers, he remembers. He’d asked Price to give him two weeks on account of the holiday you’d loved so much – Easter – and had used the Captain's deteriorating attitude as a pry. It had been easy enough, the two had known each other for a long time. They knew their breaking points.

Sometimes living around a handful of other men formed unbreakable bonds of brotherhood, and while that was true for 141, it was also a pain in the ass. People long for home at the end of it – a soft touch and sweet kisses. There’s only so long you can go with yelling orders into the same faces and playing Poker in a shitty safehouse.

Simon never thought he’d be worthy of it, a home, but here he is regardless and here he would stay. And he knew Easter was your favorite time of the year, and he also knew that Easter was…tomorrow. His dead eyes widened.

The plan formed quickly, his strategic mind helping as it always does, and as he snuck out of bed and laid his lips to yours in a tiny kiss, a shirt was tossed on along with boxers. You never heard the door to the garage door opening, just snuggled back up to the pillow and an old t-shirt he’d placed in his spot instead; inhaling his calming scent.

—

When the sun had risen an hour ago and Simon had finished with heavy fingers. Groaning, the back of a hand meets a forehead, trying to swipe away sleepiness as one would a fly. But he says nothing, feet hitting the floor as he enters the kitchen, an object held in his palm that was quickly stashed in the breadbox.

This was childish, he knew, not at all like the deadly Lieutenant of TF-141. Like Ghost. The boys would tease him relentlessly if they found out.

“Simon…?” Your voice draws him back, and with a look over his shoulders, he finds you wrapped in the comforter like a mouse. “What are you doing out here?”

The lie comes easily.

“Fixin’ breakfast.” Your eyes flicker to the open breadbox, eyebrows furrowing. A smirk grows and you walk over with a laugh living in your expression.

“I don’t even trust you to toast bread, Love, go sit down. You’ve been stuck on rations for too long.” Simon only steps back, gazing over your head and seeing your hand pause. “I’ll make us some…”

He watches as he loves to do, memorizing the parting of your lips and the recognition lighting like a shy fire. The man smiles then, and it is a delicate thing; an expression not tainted with sarcasm or deception.

Your hand delves into the box and pulls out a plastic egg softly as if it would snap in two.

It’s cheap, made of thin plastic and fading in colors of the shade of pastel pink. Chipping. There’s nothing inside of it, just a bare piece of holiday joy that never meant too much to anyone beyond children. But with how you’re staring up at him, Simon thinks all the searching in the bins from the garage was worth it.

“What’s this?” Your voice wraps him close, and your hand holds the object close. Simon shrugs, digging deep into your vision.

“I’ve the faintest idea, Sunshine.” The giggle flies to his cold heart and he pulls you to his chest to still the raging of it. “My guess,” he raises a stiff brow, “intruder broke in, yeah?”

“Did this intruder have ears and a pink nose?” You ask, noses brushing. “A hop in his step, maybe?”

“Hell if I know,” Simon grunts, eyes flickering away before he can break before you. “Best get my gun just in case – you’ll ‘ave to find the rest ‘o the bastard things, though.”

You kiss him then, and he captures the back of your head, holding you to him as if you’d disappear if he let go. He doesn't know what you did to possess him so, to make his thoughts be only of you even when he’s halfway around the world. Were you an angel? A shred of light made physical? Perhaps an embodiment of all the good in the universe?

Simon had no answer, as he usually did when it came to you, and you sighed into him, whispering redemption to his soul.

You said you loved him, and he said it back with every ounce of him that was untouched by death. And then you pulled from him with a laugh that could throw away darkness and disappeared with promises of finding the remaining eggs. Like a loyal hound of hell, Simon followed, pulling on the comforter to slow you down so you don’t trip. He would always follow.

The vision of a good life starts with a view of the present. Who you choose to care about; how you make meaning of nothing but a shared morning and a memory of youth. Simon does not remember much of his childhood. Most of the memories are displaced in the back of his mind with a barbed wire fence and a door with no keyhole. Cast away.

Coated in fear and lies.

Some days he asks how he can still call himself Simon Riley – it’s the name of a dead man, after all…and then he looks at your beaming face, and his question is answered as fast as it was thought up.

You deserve Simon Riley, not Ghost. Not a devil incarnate or Dead-eyed. A demon, or a monster. If there was even a shred of purity left in him, that was what he knew beyond doubt.

Simon Riley was selfish, he admitted, and he was loathed to leave you…so here he would stay. Hiding easter eggs and giving veiled hints when you were close to one near the planted flowers in the backyard. There was a simplicity that the man bathed in – the blatant enjoyment of a plain life.

With a chuckle in the back of his throat, Simon pushes off the back porch and makes a comment about how you were closer to the dead bird you had buried in the garden bed than an egg. A flick of your middle finger leaves him smirking, and he splays a hand over your back, angling your body farther north. The kiss left on his stubbled cheek makes him warmer than he wants to admit; cold eyes soften.

If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it…but he was trying to be damn near close. Until then, the ring he had bought would stay in his office.

TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @shoe1412, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @john-pricee, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 2 months

Text

🐇 Deuce Spade Easter Headcanons 🐇

In light of it being Easter Sunday, I decided to compile a list of Easter themed headcanons for our local baby chick boy

Also, quick word of warning - I’ve never celebrated Easter before so I deeply apologise if any of this is offensive. I just thought that the whole aesthetic of chicks, eggs and bunnies would go really well with Deuce and wanted to write about that

Reader is female

Masterlist

Since Spring has sprung, you decided to tell Deuce about a holiday from your world and him being the sweetheart he is, wanted to recreate it with you here in Twisted Wonderland

🐣 Imagine decorating Easter eggs with him, just having a blast in Ramshackle, with old newspapers covering the surface of the dining table and a bunch of paints spread out. Deuce takes this very seriously, scrunching his nose up in concentration as a shaky hand carefully applies paint to each egg. You did have a wonderful time coming up with different designs but then Ace got wind of your little date and whined about you playing favourites (“Of course, she’s playing favourites - I’m her boyfriend!”) so the next day your entire first year squad (+ Ortho) all decided to decorate Easter eggs so you ended up with a range of colourful mismatched eggs that were worth their weight in gold.

🐣 MATCHING EASTER THEMED OUTFITS. Like obviously you’d have chick themed outfits but imagine also bunny themed outfits as well with him. Of course, you have to deal with Leona’s teasing about how you look even more like a herbivore now but you kind of predicted that. Also, you send every single picture that you take of you and Deuce to his mother (that you are having constant conversations with) and whilst Deuce is so unbelievably happy that his two favourite people are getting along so well, he could do with a little less gushing about him.

🐣 Speaking of Easter outfits, imagine making Easter bonnets together, using a hot glue gun to stick on little bits and bobs like tiny chicks, bunnies and fake flowers

🐣 You handmake him homemade chocolates that are shaped like little baby chicks and bunnies. He loves them so much that he doesn’t even want to eat them, only to get slapped on the head by Ace for being a whipped idiot

🐣 You, Deuce and the rest of the first (minus Jack) totally don’t get food comas from eating too many chocolate eggs at once, by the way

🐣 You already have a habit of making him cute bento boxes or adorable looking omurice dishes, but you decided to go the extra mile and put little chick figurines inside each one. Deuce feels like he’s going to cry - he loves you so much.

🐣 You get him a bunch of those wind up chick toys - the bright eyed smile on his face outshined the sun

🐣 You organise an Easter egg hunt inside Ramshackle, consisting of chocolate eggs, the eggs you decorated and plastic eggs with little toys inside and let the first years go wild

🐣 The two of you go on dates to petting zoos so that you could hang around with actual chicks and bunnies in a safe environment and also go on picnics in the park where you feed nearby ducks (not bread. Bread is not a safe food for ducks to eat.)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #fem reader

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dontyoufeelitangel · 2 months

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Happy Easter Adam

This contains major Christian/religious themes and traditions, if you aren’t comfortable with that I advise scrolling.

Easter was something you and Adam would always celebrate together.

On this holiday Adam tended to get very emotional, same with other holidays like Christmas and such.

All year round Adam was a party animal. Jumping from concert to concert, sleeping with groupie on top of groupie. It was only on holy holidays like this that Adam would refrain from his party rocking persona. On holidays like this, he’d spend his days with you.

On Valentine’s Day he took you out to a nice fancy dinner, and on that night you both started your lent sacrifice.

No candy.

Simple enough for you, but Adam thrived on three simple things.

Ribs, alcohol and artificial sugar.

So when lent started he almost broke it three days later.

How did he almost break it?

Adam -the first man Adam- had a major hangover, so in turn, he wanted to crush up a Tylenol and put it in a Fun-Dip packet.

Oh god he’s slow , you’d think to yourself

You quickly had to grab the candy packet from him, he protested but nothing to extreme. His hangover was drowning out his energy and ability to argue with you.

“Why don’t you take the medicine with some juice honey?” You had offered him.

He had survived his lent sacrifice, now he had to make room for Good Friday,,, another nightmare for him, no meat.

Of course Adam had priorities, he spent his Good Friday sending prayers to his holy father.

You found it adorable that no matter how hard he partied and how unholy some of his actions could be, he still made room to do some good on the holidays.

He was fine on Good Friday, up until dinner,

“What do you mean no meat?” He questioned you as he made his way to the dinner table.

“Honey, Jesus sacrificed his flesh today, we must give up meat. It’s only for today, I promise you.” You put your hand on top of his and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s a human thing babe! We’re already dead! I don’t see why we can’t just have some,” he tried arguing with you

“ oh hush! I made stuffed bell peppers and pasta with cauliflower,” you put a plate in front of him.

“If you don’t want to eat it, then fine, don’t eat it. You’ve spent all day praying, don’t throw that away because you want some meat. I know you Adam, I know you can do the right thing.” You crossed your arms and looked at him sternly.

“Fine fine” he muttered and started cutting his stuffed bell pepper.

Today was resurrection day, commonly known as Easter.

Early in the morning Adam prayed to his holy father and even made a visit to the big man himself.

That morning you two went out for coffee,

Normally you’d settle for any cafe but today Adam took you to a rockin cafe, or so he called it.

“It’s really cool babe! In the cafe they have a record player connected to big speakers. And they like totally let you play whatever record you bring in, so they’re always playing good vintage rock there!” Adam cheered on as he was walking with you.

“The coffee cups are black and they paint on them with these like white paint pens. Normally they just write your name but last time I went I told them to draw lightning on my cup and they did! It was so fucking cool, you really have you see it babe!” Adam continued.

You listened to him the whole walk there, your heart could explode he was so cute. You loved hearing Adam talk about the things he liked, it made you feel like he truly trusted you.

You arrived at the cafe and you had to admit, it was a very rocking cafe.

You both got drinks, Adam got a black coffee with twelve packets of sugar, and you got a tea.

Adam was right about the cups too, you could ask for a drawing on your cups and the workers would do it.

Adam got stars and flames drawn on his cup, you got flowers and vines on yours.

You two took a seat in the cafe and talked while the record player in the back spun, letting out a slow jazz song that you quite enjoyed.

After finishing the drinks you promised Adam you’d take him to get treats, candy and pastries from the store to make up for the ‘no candy rule’ during lent.

When arriving to the store Adam pulled your straight to the candy isle.

When something is created on earth it is also brought to heaven.

So when he stumbled across the peeps, he freaked out.

“These are sick! Little ducky marshmallows, humans are getting really creative down there!” Adam laughed.

Despite his teasing comments about the peeps he continued to grab one of each flavor and popped it into the cart.

You grabbed cupcake mix and frosting along with some sprinkles so you two could bake together later.

By the time you two were done shopping the cart was filled with an assortment of goodies including:

Every flavor of peeps, the bunny peeps, milk chocolate Cadbury eggs, Reese’s eggs, jelly beans, Cadbury crème eggs, chocolate bunnies, chocolate crosses, skittles, cookies, cake mix, frosting, sprinkles, bunny ear headbands, egg painting kits and two redbulls.

What a selection.

You and Adam giggled to eachother as the cashier gave you two weird looks.

As soon as you two arrived home you started the feast. You and Adam downed the redbulls and cracked open the peeps, going down each flavor and rating them.

You both decided the cotton candy peeps were the best, and the birthday cake peeps were the worst.

Adam dared you to play chubby bunny, a game in which you see how many marshmallows you can stuff in your mouth.

Adam made it to nine marshmallows and you only got to five.

Adam nearly choked as he attempted to shove another marshmallow into his mouth, his poor attempt sent you into a laughing fit causing you to spit out all the marshmallows.

Seeing you enjoy yourself so much made Adam smile, he was so glad he got to spend resurrection day with you.

After opening up the rest of the candy and eating some you asked him if he wanted to make cupcakes.

“Um, is that even a question? Fuck yes!” He jumped up running to the kitchen. You flapped your wings and followed behind him.

The cupcakes had been baked and how it was time for decorating, he adorned the cakes with yellow frosting and put jelly beans and peeps on top of his.

You on the other hand put baby blue frosting on yours and wrote happy resurrection day! With gel frosting on top of your cakes.

After decorating the cupcakes he offered to make dinner for you.

You gladly accepted.

While he cooked you cleaned the mess you two had previously made. Sugar and candy wrappings thrown everywhere in you and Adam’s living room.

For dinner Adam had prepared carrot, asparagus and potatoes with ham for the main dish.

And oh god, he made the lamb cake too…

Despite the fact you two JUST make cupcakes not even two hours earlier he decided to make a lamb cake.

The lamb cake was a tradition you and many other winners around heaven shared.

It was a lamb shaped cake dish that you bake the cake in, then once the cake is done you’d decorate it like a lamb.

Adam was a decent cook. There was no doubt that the cake would taste delicious, it’s the decoration of the cake that was questionable.

The lamb was given white frosting and a face made out of jelly beans.

The white frosting was smeared on in a way that made the poor lamb look like it was balding, and the face was melting off.

The lamb looked like it was begging for mercy, Adam tried to make it look cute though, by adding red colour to the cheeks to make it seem as though the lamb was blushing. It ended up looking like the poor thing had chicken pox.

“I made it for you” Adam stated.

You smiled

“Awwwwe honey!” You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a small kiss on his nose.

“It’s cute” you tilted your head and looked him in the eyes, a genuine smile painted your face.

“You really think so” he smiled wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I know so, now let’s eat.” You let go of him and sat down at the table.

He had gotten the plates of dinner ready for the two of you and he had set them down on the table making his way to sit down next to you.

You grabbed his hand and closed your eyes,

“Lord, thank you for this wonderful day, this lovely meal. Please bless the hands that prepared it. Lord thank you for your sacrifices and thank you for blessing me with this amazing partner” you prayed.

You and Adam both said amen in unison.

You went to pick up a fork but Adam placed his hand on yours, then gave you a quick peck on the head.

You smiled at him while he started eating,

You were very grateful you had him, and for everything he is.

155 notes · View notes

thedeviltohisangel · 1 month

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All The Things I Did (Interlude): My Little Bunnies

a/n: happy belated easter to all those who celebrate! i wanted to write john & cass' first easter as parents and it became a 10 page fic with smut/fluff/angst. read on to meet their twins, meet cass' parents, learn more about her family history and so much more. and to the anon who sent an ask about them getting a bloodhound, yes. he is here. this was a real labor of love but it is my gift to you. i hope you all love it and please come let me know your thoughts on this little family. xoxo

warnings: smut

When Cass was quiet, it meant she was thinking. And since they had left the driveway of their beach house, she had been quiet. A notebook in one hand and a pen and leash in the other, John thinks she was attempting to memorize her to-do list for Easter Sunday.

“You know part of the reason I was convinced into coming here this weekend was your insistence on family walks,” he looked down at the two little bundles that were already gazing right back at him, “tell Mama she can relax for one night.”

“I’ll relax after everything goes off without a hitch tomorrow. It’s their first Easter and our first time hosting a holiday and the first time my family is seeing the house and-” She paused as Gale let out a sound of discomfort and started to squirm in the carriage, Cass quickly reaching down and smoothing a finger over his cheek with a coo. He quieted just as quickly at her touch and blinked up at her sleepily. “There, there my sweet boy. I’m right here.” Not for the first time, and not for the last time, John was endlessly amazed by his wife. How she managed to be a mother, a wife and still impress the brass in DC was beyond his comprehension. He hadn’t known it was possible to fall more in love with her and here he was. Falling in love with her more and more everyday.

“We Egan boys get cranky when you aren’t around to dote on us.”

“Is that so? Do you agree with that, Butter?” The bloodhound gave a gentle bark in answer which John took as his agreement. “Well, Miss Penelope does have a habit of looking at every plane in the sky while she waits for you to come home.” He grinned so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“That’s my little lamb,” he said with a gentle tickle to the top of her tummy, her giggles making her parents laugh right along with her. “And what about you? What do you do all day while you wait for me to come home?”

“Oh, I just stare longingly out the window because the thought of you not being around paralyzes me, Lieutenant Colonel Egan.” Cass held her hand to her forehead and feigned hysteria.

“I guess it is kind of beautiful here,” John relented as their walk took them to the beach. The waves were crashing against the sand as the sunset laid a pink backdrop to the view. He lifted his arm and Cass fell into his side with ease.

“I told you so,” she murmured against his chest. Cass had loved growing up on her family’s estate outside of Charleston. She had learned more about life running around that land than she ever had anywhere else. But every summer her mother would take her and siblings for Kiawah Island, where her father would join on occasion, and she would roam free on the sand and in the sun. There were no boys trying to dance with her and her mother didn’t yell at her for being barefoot and she was able to laugh loud and run fast and there were no consequences. “You see that gray house with the white balconies a few hundred yards that way?” She pointed in the general direction and John shaded his eyes to look.

“That’s not a house, Cass, that’s a mansion.”

“That’s my parents house. My dad built it for my mom when I was little,” she said sheepishly. When she had been old enough to truly understand love and relationships, she had thought it was the most romantic thing. Had seen how happy it made her father to provide for her mother. How happy it made her mother that it was hers and only hers and almost a monument to the life they created together. “Since then, I’ve always wanted to raise my own family here.” John watched her caress the cheeks of their sleeping children with a smile.

“All I ever want, Cass, is for you and Gale and Penelope to be happy and safe. Nothing else matters to me.” The white house that was surrounded by trees on one side and the beach on the other had been a dream of Cass’ for a long time. She had told him about it back at Thorpe Abbotts and he had dreamed about it in his bunk on those cold German nights. Dreamed about buying it for her and carrying her over the threshold and filling it with their love and the pitter patter of little feet.

“Lucky for you, that’s all I want, too. And maybe some more kisses.”

“You’re saying I don’t kiss you enough?” he asked with raised eyebrows. She shook her head.

“Not nearly enough.” John had worked overtime for months to set aside enough for the down payment. Had turned down her father’s offer to buy it as a wedding gift. He had wanted to get this for her, for his wife, all on his own. She was the reason he was alive. It was only a drop in the bucket for what he owed her.

“It’s talk like that that got us here in the first place,” he whispered with a nod towards the carriage. “You being a little kiss thief.” Butter whined with displeasure.

“He doesn’t like when you’re snarky to me.” Their chests were pressed together now, his nose bumping hers as he laughed. “You’re the one that spent his whole puppy life telling him he had to be my guard dog,” she added with a gentle poke to his chest. Cass had just sweet talked her way into convincing John that Butter was meant to come home with them, having found him in a horse stall at her family’s place, when he asked if she wanted to take a drive to the beach. She thought he meant somewhere close but as they drove past the turn for Folly she began to get an idea of where he was taking her. She remembers her heart sinking when SOLD was in big red letters on the sign. John had asked if she wanted to take a look around anyways. For old time’s sake.

“Yeah and when he successfully chased that crazy bird away from you last month you were very grateful for it.” He scratched behind the hounds ears for good measure.

“I was. Seagulls scare me, you know that.” Ever since one had snatched her lunch right out of her hands on the very beach they were looking at when she was still in pigtails. Cass had told him that story while they walked around the house. Her hands wistfully touching the floors and her smile at the scent of the water making it hard for John to keep the secret in. She had known back then she was pregnant, hadn’t found the right time to tell John yet and hadn’t known there were two baby Egans on their way, but had told him she hoped this house made a family happy. That they loved it the way she had as a little girl and didn’t change a thing. He had told her to close her eyes and hold out her hand. And she looked confused at the cool metal that he placed in her palm, understanding registering when she opened her eyes and saw it was a key.

What do you say we fill this house with our family, my love?

----

As it was most mornings, her nightgown was bunched around her waist as she gasped into John’s mouth. She was gently rotating her hips while his fingers gripped her hips tighter and tighter and his hips thrusted up into her slowly.

“Fuck, John,” she moaned as he sat up and kissed her roughly.

“You close, baby?” It was always a bit of a race to get there before the twins woke or before a housekeeper or nanny knocked on the door to get the day started. John wished he had all the time in the world every time but wouldn’t trade the moments he had with her for anything, no matter how quickly they went. “Look me in the eyes, my sweet girl.” His thumb found her clit between them and pressed until she threw her head back.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she panted as she knocked her forehead against his. John wouldn’t even dare to think to stop as she came undone around him and his own finish followed instantly. He fell back against the pillow, her lips on his the entire time, and stroked her cheek gently as he tried to regain control of his breathing. “Think they’ve got five more minutes in them so we can-” The sound of one baby crying pierced the tranquility followed in quick succession by the other.

“That’s a no,” he remarked with a smile. “They probably think if they cry loud enough, you won’t make them dress all fancy and go to church.”

“They are always perfectly well behaved at church.” Butter’s barking joined the cacophony and the bubble was fully burst. “If you let him out and start the coffee, I can change diapers and get their clothes out.” He gave her bottom a gentle pat as she begrudgingly let him slip out of her.

“Hey, Spook?” Cass turned from where she was slipping her underwear on. “I love you.” Unable to keep herself from blushing, she pecked him one last time before the craziness of the day settled in.

“Hey, John?” He hummed with delight as his nose rubbed against hers. “I love you, too.”

----

True to her word, the twins behaved like angels at their first Easter mass. Gale had only tried to kick his shoes off for a few minutes and Penelope had only required John to make silly faces through one hymn. Cass had rolled her eyes on their way out the door as her husband produced two stuffed bunnies from behind his back and tucked them between their fingers. She had reminded him they each had a whole basket of stuffed bunnies waiting to be opened by the fireplace and probably many more arriving as gifts later in the day. One more from their dad couldn’t hurt was all he had to say.

The house was near mayhem when they arrived back. Caterers had taken over the kitchen, their house manager Alice was leading a small army in pillow fluffing and men with white gloves were polishing glasses in the dining room. John was once again reminded how differently he and his wife had grown up.

“Mr. and Mrs. Egan, Happy Easter, I hope you had a wonderful morning.” Alice reached for Cass’s purse and gloves, taking them before smiling at the sleeping twins who each had a head on one of their father’s shoulders. “I can have Joan take them off your hands, sir.”

“It’s quite alright, Alice, I think the three of us are going to find a cozy spot on the beach to keep out of my lovely wife’s way.”

“Perhaps someone could find them an umbrella and blanket and chair?” Cass inquired as she began to walk towards the kitchen, handing Alice her hat as well along the way. “How’s the ham looking? It smells wonderful.”

“Yes, ma’am, we’ll get the beach set up for them. And the ham should be ready to carve exactly as we scheduled dinner for.” John side stepped around a group carrying boxes down the hall. “That would be the two options for porcelain Mrs. Cooper sent for your consideration.”

“Porcelain?” John thought it was a simple family dinner. He didn’t think it would be such an affair when Cass broached him with the idea of hosting.

“Yes. And if I pick the wrong one then I will never hear the end of it.” She turned back to Alice. “I’ll need to see a complete place setting of each one.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have them get right on it.”

“What happened to you not wanting to be reduced to a housewife?” John asked as he walked towards the back door, Cass opening it for him and following him down the back steps and onto the sand.

“I just want everything to be perfect today. I’ll be back to the Spook you know and love as soon as this is over.”

“First, I love all of you, all the time. Second, I heard you talking to Alice and Joan about hiring more staff, that word is honestly beyond my comprehension, when we go back to Virginia.” Cass took Penelope from him and laid her gently on the shaded blanket that had been set up, her hand brushing over her curls and kissing her forehead gently.

“And? You don’t want the help?”

“I thought the two of us were getting by quite well on our own.”

“I can’t put off going back to work any longer and I want someone I know and trust with them during the day. And if Alice or Joan are watching them, then they need someone else to do the things they have been doing.” Sure her and John had figured out a rhythm. But eventually Cass needed to get back to doing the work she loved. Rediscover who she was just as Cass and not just as John’s wife or her children’s mother. “Besides, they aren’t watching them so I can go to tea or try on dresses. I need to get back in there. You know what they’ve been saying about Korea.”

“Is that what you’ve been worried about? It’s a few years from anything active, Cass, if anything at all.” She wasn’t used to the anxiety that coursed through her veins after she had the twins. Wasn’t used to feeling her chest so heavy when she thought about how hard this world was going to make it to protect them.

“Yes, but if I can even do one thing to help prevent them from having to live through a war…” She trailed off and wiped angrily at her eyes, lifting Penelope against her chest and kissing the top of Gale’s head where he still rested against John. “I don’t want them to ever have to experience anything like what we went through.” He gathered her into his side and kissed her temple.

“We went through that so they could live in a better world,” he said softly. “Came out the other side because right here, right now is where we belong.” She looked up with a laugh as she noticed Butter trotting his way over to them, his nose sniffing at Gale and Penelope before he plopped on his side in the shade.

“If it bothers you, I’ll tell them all to go home and never come back. The five of us can figure the rest out.”

“No, they’re fine. It’s just not how we did things in Wisconsin. It’s taking some getting used to.” He had assumed Cass came from money when he met her. The well-manicured nails and silk nightgowns and impeccable table manners cluing him in. He just hadn’t realized he was marrying into a Carolina rice dynasty. It came with multiple homes and polo matches and hunting trips and acres of land and hundreds of employees in the home and around the burgeoning corporation. For so long, Cass had thought marriage and kids were not in the cards for her so the structure of a household was a non-existent problem. But then she had fallen in love with John Egan and married him in London and spent two years dreaming of their future and the comforts of her childhood had found their way in.

“Well, Butter, you keep an eye on these three while I pick out porcelain and tie drapes and whatever the heck else a lady is supposed to do these days.” With one last kiss to the top of her daughter’s head, her son’s head and her husband’s head, Cass was off and pulled into a million directions upon re-entering her home. Whenever she could, she would look out the window at her husband tickling their tummies or helping them put sand in a bucket or carrying them to dip their toes in the water. She knew none of the material things around her mattered. And if it made John more comfortable to get rid of them, she would in a heartbeat. She only needed those three humans and the one furry family member to be happy. To be fulfilled in this life beyond her wildest dreams. Any threats on the horizon be damned.

----

Cass waited anxiously for her parents' new Italian sounding car to pull into the driveway, her siblings, extended family and some of the local friends her and John had found already socializing about the house and grounds. She had taken a sip of her husband’s whiskey she was so nervous.

“Baby, I know for a fact your dad is going to be too focused on the twins and the other grandchildren running around to even care about the way I carve the ham. And who cares if your mother doesn’t like the color of the shutters? I didn’t spend a whole weekend painting them for her.” He had for Cass. She had spent days deciding between two shades of green that John thought were exactly the same but had provided his minimal input when asked.

“I rewarded you handsomely for your efforts, Mr. Egan.” John remembered. They hadn’t left their bed for days after Cass couldn’t stand the sight of him sweaty and with a pencil tucked behind his ear working on their house any longer. She had had her way with him and John had taken on many more projects around the house ever since. And every time, his wife was unable to maintain even a shred of decency.

“I never got that round two you were mentioning this morning, Mrs. Egan,” he mused as he drifted closer and closer until his hands wrapped around the small of her back and her arms draped over his shoulders.

“We have a house full of guests,” she giggled as he nipped gently at her lips.

“Yes but the babies are occupied which means no little angelic interruptions.” She moaned as he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, her toes curling in her new heels.

“Not even on Easter Sunday can you two find a sense of decorum?”

“Shush, Gale, they’re in love,” Marge said with a gentle slap to his arm. If Gale Cleven had a nickel for everytime he had caught the two of them in various stages of passion, he would have been able to use the profits alone to buy a similar house to the one he was standing in.

“Oh, I am so happy you were able to make it!” Cass kissed Gale on the cheeks eagerly and let out a squeal of delight as she wrapped Marge in a hug. “I’ve got you both all set up in the guest room furthest from the nursery so you can hopefully sleep in peace while you’re here.” Before John could even say his own hello, Cass and Marge were off towards the backyard with their heads close together as they whispered.

“Well, we did always say they’d be thick as thieves,” he remarked as he grabbed the suitcase Marge had abandoned by the door. “Up this way.” Gale smiled and nodded politely at all the strangers that were dressed in black and white, bustling in and out of the kitchen and dining room with haste. He could only imagine how it was driving his best friend crazy.

“Who would’ve thought? John Egan having ten people cook his Easter dinner for him,” Gale teased as John set the suitcase down in the guest room and dropped himself into the armchair by the window.

“I hear it’s being served on porcelain,” he mused back. Gale settled in the chair across from him.

“It’s a beautiful house, John. You’ve got to be proud of yourself.” John stared out the window and nodded.

“Yeah, it is. Makes Cass happy to be out here.” It wasn’t that she was unhappy at their home in Virginia but John knew she missed South Carolina. Missed the beach and her family being close by.

“And are you happy?”

“With her and the kids, always. Just learning this new side to her is all.”

“That seems to be what marriage entails. Learning to love something new everyday.” The hum of a car engine broke the comfortable silence between two old friends and Gale peeked out the window with a low whistle. “Is that a Maserati?”

“That it would be, Buck. You want to come distract my mother in law with your good looks for me?” When John and Cass had their more official wedding last year, Buck Cleven had been the hottest commodity. The women of Charleston hadn’t given him a moment to breathe.

“No I think you’ve got the Cooper women under control, Bucky.” Gale clapped him between his shoulder blades. “Now where’s that beautiful baby you named after me?”

Cass was at the bottom of the stairs waiting with a baby on each hip, Gale kissing their sprouting curls on his way to find Marge on the beach, and John forgot all about anything negative he had been feeling that day.

“Say hi Daddy, we were looking for you.” The twins smiled like they always did when they had their parents attention solely on them. The sound of Cass’ voice bringing them a calmness only John could ever begin to relate to.

“Hi, my little bunnies.” John took Penelope onto his own hip, kissing her cheek around the stuffed bunny ear that was between her teeth, Cass reaching to tuck a few of his curls back into place. “I thought you preferred them all messy.”

“I do but-” the door opened and the words died in her throat.

“Cassandra Ann, that dog of yours does have a habit of sticking his nose all over the place.”

“Hi, Mama. Happy Easter to you, too.” John whistled for Butter who came and sat at his side dutifully. “Hi, Daddy.” She pressed a kiss to each of her parents’ cheeks and almost cringed as she saw the line of valets carrying colorful baskets into the backyard. The level of stuffed animals entering her home was reaching a near suffocating level.

“Oh, John, how handsome you look this afternoon.” Cass rolled her eyes as her mother stepped forward to kiss John’s blushing cheeks.

“Thank you, ma’am, you’re looking very lovely yourself. Sir.” He shook her father’s hand firmly, smiling when Penelope reached for her grandfather instantly.

“Cassandra, aren’t you going to show me around? I’m very curious as to which place setting you chose.” She looked at John to say I told you so before guiding her mother down the hall.

“Of course. We can start in the dining room if you’d like.” John felt like a bad father as his son looked at him with wide blue eyes over his mother’s shoulder as they disappeared around the corner but he would make it up to him with something sweet after dinner.

“Can I offer you something to drink, sir?”

“Whiskey, John, thank you.” While John had had to work his charm hard on Mrs. Cooper to convince her he wasn’t a street urchin there to steal her daughter, Mr. Cooper had taken no convincing to know John was the right man for his daughter. Had sat down for one dinner with the two of them and saw how they looked at each other. How he had kept a hand on her protectively the entire time. Had seen the absolute gratitude in Cass’ eyes that John was alive and next to her every time she looked at him.

“I told Cass you’d be more interested in the grandkids than the way I carved the ham later,” he pointed out as Penelope was filled with utter glee at the way her grandfather was tickling her cheeks with her bunny.

“Cassandra has always been my most perceptive child yet, on occasion, forgets that is one of her own most formidable qualities.” John handed him a glass, bringing them together with a clink before taking a sip. “How is my daughter doing?”

“This one and her brother keep her busy and she’s looking forward to getting back to work. But she’s good. She smiles everyday, I’ll always make sure of it.” Penelope’s lower lip began to wobble and John gathered her against his chest just as the first tear rolled down her chubby cheek.

“I can go find the nanny-”

“I’ve got it, sir.” John kissed her forehead gently and she quieted. “She’s just like her mother. Pouts until she gets a kiss then she’s fine.” Now she was focused on the fabric of John’s tie and trying to get it into her mouth. Yes, Mr. Cooper thought, Cass had made the perfect decision to marry this man.

“Son, if I may offer a few pointers on carving the ham.”

----

Hours later, after bellies were full and babies were sleepy, the house was beginning to calm down. Cass had shed her stockings and tied her hair back and accepted Marge’s offer to put the twins to sleep. There were people finishing dishes in the kitchen and packing away porcelain in the dining room. Alice was orchestrating the entire effort for which she was grateful, her fingers wrapping around the neck of a bottle of whiskey and heading towards the small fire that was glowing on the beach.

“You hiding from me?” she teased as she dropped a kiss to the top of his head and sat in the chair next to him.

“Never, baby. Was just having a cigarette before coming in to help with bedtime.” Cass wanted him to quit but was starting with not allowing him to smoke around the kids. She handed him the whiskey and took the cigarette from his fingers, inhaling a few times before putting it out in the sand.

“Marge asked if she could put them to bed for practice. I ran away before she changed her mind,” she giggled. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked around a pull from the bottle.

“Everything.”

“Spook, you know my ego needs specifics.” He opened his arms, summoning her into his lap, and closed his eyes in peace as her head settled under his chin.

“Not letting me chase you away all those years ago. Not divorcing me when I showed up at your bunk bed in Germany. Our babies.”

“I had very little to do with those two but I’ll take it.” She kissed him gently, lovingly. Without a care in the world and in no rush. “Everything to your liking today?”

“Yes. I promise we won’t host anymore holidays for awhile.”

“You pick the right porcelain?”

“Of course not.” John laughed and she joined in, taking her own swig of alcohol. “And I was very impressed by your knife skills at dinner.” John kissed the tip of her nose.

“Your dad told me it was important the man of the house not treat it like carving a ham but like he could use the knives to protect his family.”

“Did he?” she asked with a furrowed brow.

“I think he was trying to convince me to take it more seriously. It worked.”

“It certainly seemed it did.” Cass twisted her finger around the loose curl in the middle of his forehead as he looked out towards the ocean. “I do have one last ask up my sleeve.” Slowly undoing the buttons of her dress, John was more focused than he had been all day. Between her breasts was an Easter egg with hearts painted on it.

“I would’ve joined in on the egg hunt had I known, Cass.”

“Open it.” As soon as he had it in his fingers, her lips were on his jaw and down his neck and he had an inkling what might be inside. He could barely read the words she had written as the blood rushed from his head to between his legs. Round two? His lips were on hers in an instant, John groaning as his hand slid up her thigh and found nothing but bare skin. She made quick work of his belt and zipper, sliding his waistband down just enough to free him.

“Fuck, baby, no time for teasing.” His hands lifted her hips and he sunk into her with a contented sigh, his lips latching onto her collarbone as she found a steady pace. “Want the neighbors to hear how good I make you feel.”

“John,” she whined as his hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed gently. Unable to hold himself back, he laid her onto the blanket and used the new leverage to increase the pace, her legs hooking around his hips and urging him to go harder and faster. “You’re going to make me cum.”

“You look so pretty when you cum, baby,” he cooed into her ear as he felt her clenching around him. “That’s my good girl, taking me so well.” His wife looked so good underneath him. Like she truly was made to be his.

“Fuck, right…there…oh, God,” she arched her back into him as her orgasm washed over her in a waves, John’s hips stuttering as he moaned into her mouth and she took all he had to give her. “I love making you moan.” John was handsome and rugged and all the masculine words that she could think of. But he was also so damn pretty.

“Good thing you’re so good at it,” he said as he nuzzled into the side of her neck. “You’ve worn me out, Mrs. Egan.”

“Can you carry me to bed?” she murmured as her own eyelids were growing heavy.

“Just let me hold you like this for a few more minutes.”

“Hey, John?” He kissed the side of her neck in acknowledgment. “I love you.”

“Hey, Spook?” She smiled in anticipation. “I love you, too.”

And if Gale earned another nickel as he was closing the blinds that night, no one needed to know.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #callum turner fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfic #mota fanfic #john egan x reader #john egan x oc #cass and bucky

125 notes · View notes

madelynraemunson · 5 months

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 015: Eddie, Do You Copy?

Learning about, understanding, and loving all parts of Eddie.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 5.8k words

disclaimers — fluff, grief, flight of icarus easter eggs bc of eddie’s mom, ANGST, talks of childhood abuse/negligence/foster care, implied domestic violence, homicide, cancer, mentions of suicide, mentions of underaged drinking/drug use if you squint, lil modern-nostaglia moment btwn eddie and the boys (as a treat ✨), erica and wayne cameo yayyy

author's note: eddie is so boyfriend in this chapter 🫠 happy holidays, you filthy animals ♥️

“I put the record on, wait till I hear our song. Every night I’m dancing with your ghost.”

♡

Your eyes accommodate the first beacon of light as thirst creeps its way into your system.

6:38 AM.

Quietly chucking the covers off, you find yourself hobbling over Eddie in attempts to get to the kitchen. You can only hope that it doesn’t wake him.

Eddie responds with a low grumble. Followed by some mumbling and flailing. And then you watch as he shifts around, doing his best to return to the state of comfort he was in before his sleep was interrupted.

But if he’s anything like you — which you know for a fact he is — his cranky self is most likely awake by now and just pretending to be unconscious to avoid early morning conversation.

To put it to the test, you press a soft kiss onto Eddie’s forehead. He smiles.

You smile to yourself. Called it.

When you get to the kitchen, you seek out Eddie’s Garfield mug for your reservoir of choice. And as it fills with water, the bedroom adjacent from his captures your attention.

Steve’s door is open. A huge indicator that he’s still not home.

Judging by the energy levels of everyone last night, you assume it’s because they were still out partying. And for Steve’s sake, a part of you hopes it’s also because he went home with somebody.

Once you’ve got your water, you sneak back into Eddie’s room, using the newfound, natural light to really study it.

You would’ve thought it was an extension of Steve’s room, not Eddie’s. Everything’s a posh navy blue, something Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead in if he had been anywhere else.

But the corner of his room is more like him, decorated with vinyls and a Crosley just like your sister’s. There were records of his favorite metal bands: Sabbath and Maiden. Anthrax, Metallica, and Judas Priest. And the unsuspecting like Elvis, The Doors, and Pink Floyd. Even country — both old and new, Johnny Cash and Chris Young — followed by a wide selection of Chicago blues and bluegrass.

The rest of his personality could be found on the bulletin board sitting on his desk.

Hand soap, dryer sheets, FUCKING DO PAYROLL

Eddie’s to-do list. You let out a soft chuckle.

Familiar faces canvas the board. There’s photos of Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. A picture of him with his uncle — Young Eddie with his hair buzzed and Uncle Wayne’s a subtle gray, most likely Eddie’s doing.

There’s a photo of Steve and Eddie at a Colt’s game. Eddie and Dustin. And Eddie with Will at what looked to be a D&D convention of sorts.

But one photo catches your eye the most.

‘MOMMY & ME: LIZ + EDDIE , 1994’

His mom’s name was Liz. You graze the picture of Liz holding a baby Eddie in her arms. On her face was a dimpled smile like no other, the love-filled look in her eyes having been shielded by her thick wavy brown hair.

But you didn’t need to see her eyes to know how much she loved Eddie. You see it in how she’s holding him, gently pressed to her chest while she supports his neck, his beady brown eyes staring at her with the same amount of adoration.

It all reminds you of Mom. You’re almost certain there’s a picture of you two like that, but it’s back home with Billy… evidently a forbidden turf to trek.

At least there’s still the memory of it. But like the bond with your twin, it’s also growing to be distant.

Your eyes and tears trickle down to another picture of her on Eddie’s bulletin board.

It’s of Toddler Eddie now with Liz in what looks like a kitchen. He’s standing on her feet and, judging by the motion of the picture, is dancing along to a song that was probably playing on the stereo. Behind the two of them sat piles and piles of CDs, all of which were all of the blues.

“She was pretty, wasn’t she?”

Eddie is behind you now. He smiles at you with a dreamy gaze, beaming at the mere fact that the two women who made him happiest could be visually processed in the same frame.

You gulp.

“Really, really pretty,” you insist. “You have her smile. A-and her hair.”

"Yeah, I look a lot like her," Eddie chuckles with a hint of pride. He grazes the photos of her in the same way you did. "She’s influenced me a lot growing up. Bet that's why my sperm donor can't stand me."

You carefully dissect his choice of words. There’s a lot of resent for Alan Munson on Eddie’s part. You don’t blame him, if what Billy discovered had been true. It’s the same reason you and him resent Dad.

Eddie fixates on the expression on your face. He knows why this is so moving for you.

“It never gets easier, does it?” he questions, hinting at your own ongoing struggle with grief.

You cross your arms and shake your head. Softly you mutter, “Never.”

You feel stupid. Eddie’s doing his best to navigate his own baggage, yet you still found a way to make it about yourself.

He pulls you close and wraps his arms tenderly around your waist. Eddie doesn’t have to say it to reassure you that your burdens are safe in his presence. You can just feel it. Two traumatized individuals understand each other in a way others can’t.

“Time just keeps going,” you speak again. “Everyone moves on and you’re kinda just…stuck in place.”

“World just keeps going. Grief doesn’t care about your plans when it blindsides you, taking you for everything you’ve got.”

You swallow hard as Eddie’s words sink into you.

Tragedy just feels so non-consensual. No one ever asks for it to happen.

You and Billy can’t even go surfing without thinking about Mom. Whenever you try you both always end up fighting. That’s why Max tends to go alone or with her own friends.

“I have to stay away from a whole genre of music because I’ll burst into tears,” you scoff in agony. “Billy and I can’t even listen to Iration without thinking of our mom.”

“Can’t listen to Muddy Waters without thinking of mine.”

You and Eddie sway in place to the tandem of your beating hearts. It’s a breath of fresh air knowing you have each other now.

After a while, he ruffles your hair and spins you around so that you can face him.

"But enough about that," Eddie attempts a smile. He rubs your shoulders and you hum in awe. "This is supposed to be a happy time."

"Happiness and despair can coexist," you sniff. “Duality, remember?”

Eddie smiles. It's a you're right kind of smile. "I was yesterday years old when I learned that."

He kisses your forehead and soon you two are in the shower, rinsing up and mentally preparing for the long day of errands ahead.

You’re the first to hop out and get dressed, eager to devour a bowl of oatmeal before tackling the day.

"Hey… babe?" Eddie calls out to you from his closet.

The pet name almost sounds too natural rolling off his tongue. But then again he is the owner of a strip club, and was married for a few years before meeting you.

“Yeah?” you call back, heart skipping a beat.

“Can you make me a coffee while you’re out there?” he requests. “The usual black drip coffee with some hazelnut? Please and thank you.”

“Of course, hun.”

You can get used to this.

So you make your way back out into the living room and kitchen shortly after, practically skipping. But the person you see in the kitchen — with tired eyes and a bowl of his own oatmeal in hand — stops you in your tracks.

"Morning, Hargrove," Steve responds.

You're so dumb. You've gotta start realizing that when you sleep with one of them, the other may pop in at any minute. After all, it’s their townhouse.

As frozen in place as you are, you do your best to shoot Steve a shy little wave. Again, the look on his face indecipherable.

"Morning..." you pathetically respond.

Steve eventually grants you a wave back. He pokes around at his oatmeal while you make your way over to the fridge, your cheeks flushing a timid red as you do so.

You move in a way that seems like you were way too conscious of your actions. Even Steve notices. But he keeps trying to eat, his spoon clinking against his bowl as he intermittently clears his throat, all an attempt to fill the void of silence.

"Did you have a fun night?" you question. "You know... bar-hopping."

"Yeah, I did," he replies. "Argyle had to get cut off cuz he was being real extra with it."

"Oh geez."

"I know."

“How was Max?”

“She was fine,” Steve shrugs. “The bars use the same 21+ wristbands Hellfire does so we were able to sneak her in no problem. Chrissy made sure she got home safe. The girls were just stoked they finally got to have a carefree night.”

“That’s so good,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m so happy for them.”

“Yeah,” he nods in agreement. “I’m really happy for them too. Seems like they needed it.”

Finally, your friend decides to address the elephant in the room.

"We uhh..." he begins. "We should probably end what we have going on here. Just so no one gets hurt."

“I think that’s a smart idea too,” you mumble as you nod.

You make your way over to Steve, stunned that he doesn’t shy away from you when you invade his personal space. Instead he leans into you, opening up his lap so you can maneuver between his legs.

You know, like how friends usually talk.

“It was fun while it lasted…”

"I know. I just feel so bad..." you choke, rubbing his arm softly. "I’ve wasted your time."

"I wouldn't say that," Steve refuses, shaking his head rapidly. He touches you back, running his hand across your arm. "I've thoroughly enjoyed your company."

Eventually his hand intertwines with yours.

There’s a heaviness in the room and something tells you that Eddie is near, looming at the foot of his room so that your business with Steve remains uninterrupted. He knows there’s some dust that still needs to settle. And he will linger until it does.

"You helped me get out of a really dark place," Steve admits. "And Eds too, I'm sure."

You look back towards Eddie's room.

“It wasn’t my intention to fall for him,” you say. “It just…happened. The connection, i-it’s...”

“I know…” Steve soothes you. “Been pickin’ up on that for a while. If you think I’m blaming you, I’m not.”

Steve urges you to meet his gaze again. And when a teardrop falls from your eye, he uses his thumb to wipe it away. Tells you to stop, before he too starts crying.

"This is... a huge step for him," Steve manages a grin. “I don’t think you realize, Shy Girl.”

"Yeah, I bet," you nod. "After Isabelle..."

"Yeah, Isabelle and everything else that dude's got going on," he confirms. "This is really good for Eddie. I can tell. It’s why I think it’s best that we part ways.”

Steve eventually does cry too, but it’s a rather suppressed one. The both of you take turns wiping each other’s tears, embracing the presence of each other for just a short while longer before needing to distance yourselves indefinitely.

You’re never going to forget Steve Harrington. His charm. His integrity. His everlasting devotion to the ones he loves most, and how he’d — time and time again — go to the ends of the earth for them. A noble soul in the highest regard. A true king.

“Thank you for being so kind,” you say to him. “You made my first week in Indiana a lot less intimidating. I hope you’ll still be around.”

“Of course I’ll still be around,” Steve chuckles. “Look at our friend group. Look at where I live.”

You share a laugh with him again.

“Ain’t no getting rid of me that easy, Hargrove.”

“I can sure try though, right?”

“Now why would you do that?” he banters sarcastically, chuckling into you.

He kisses your cheek softly one last time. Finally, Eddie’s door swings open, prompting you and Steve to asunder from one another.

“RISE AND FUCKING SHINE!” Eddie announces his entrance. “Both my soul and thine.”

You get out of Eddie’s way so he can go over and hug Steve good morning. Eddie then breaks the hug with a peck on the cheek and rough slap to Steve’s ass. Steve winces but you can tell he enjoys it.

“Mwah!” Eddie cheers. “Love you, babyboy. What you got going on today?”

“Oh, just gonna work on the online biz for a bit,” Steve mumbles as he ushers his hands through some paper. “Then ’m gonna start recruiting peeps for my other new job.”

“I forgot you dropship now,” Eddie says. “How’s that going?”

“Really fucking good,” Steve smiles. “I shouldn’t count on it too much though. It’s why I also have Newby’s. Speaking of which…”

Steve hands you a flyer. You take it from his hands.

NEWBY’S COFFEE ROASTERS: Even Superheroes Need Coffee!

Steve explains to you that a new coffee shop is taking over Family Video’s old suite. The owner grows his own coffee beans and all syrups are organically made from Hawkins locals. And since they’re a Mom and Pop shop, they were really going to need some help.

“If Maxine is still looking for a job, she’s more than welcome to apply,” Steve says. “We’re gonna need baristas. And we’ll be coworkers so whenever she’s on, I can drive her to work.”

“That sounds like an awesome gig for her!” Eddie pitches in. “Free coffee for employees too, I’m guessing.”

Steve nods at Eddie’s remark.

“That’d be amazing,” you blush. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” Eddie parrots you. You elbow him playfully.

“Yeah, anything for you guys. I’ll put in a good word for her to Bob. He’s the owner. Great guy.”

“And what about this owner, huh?” Eddie chimes in. “Hope you can pull some strings and snag me some of those magic beans as well. I’m gonna need it. I also don’t mind paying full price cuz it’s goin’ to Newbs.”

“T’yeah with your job? You can have all the beans you want.”

“Mm, speaking of which,” Eddie scoffs as he stares at the time on his Apple Watch. “It’s almost time.”

Steve imitates Eddie’s gesture. Your eyes dart between the two of them, confused about the context of the whole ordeal.

“What are you guys-” you begin.

“Ah, buh-buh!” Steve stops you. “Wait for it…”

You look at the time on your phone to feel some sort of involvement as well.

7:59 —> 8:00

Eddie’s phone rings.

"An everyday thing," Steve tsks, shaking his head, resuming his breakfast as he does so.

"First problem of the day," Eddie looks at you. "It’s always something with Hellfire. From the moment the day begins...Yello?"

It’s Lucas. Sinclair never really calls unless it’s a dire situation, so you listen closely, doing your best to make out what he’s saying on the other line.

"I can't come in tonight,” is what it sounds like.

"Uh, why the fuck not?" your man demands. He places a sassy hand on his hip. "We need you for front of the house."

"Erica's sick and my car is in the shop."

"I'll pay for your Uber, you're coming in."

"I think it's covid. I don't wanna spread it to anyone if l've been exposed."

"It's not fucking covid, you guys have been jabbed more times than I can count for school."

The two continue to bicker back and forth like they’re brothers. Steve excuses himself from the narrative, going over to the kitchen sink to wash the dishes.

You watch Eddie as he lights up a pre-roll, taking a frustrated drag from it while he listens to Lucas’s, probably bullshit, excuse.

Eventually there’s a scuffle on the other line. Something something, “GIMME THE DAMN PHONE” followed by a “NO” followed by a “PHONE. NOW”. Eddie’s drags from his blunt grow increasingly slower.

Then another person speaks. The voice belongs to a girl. She sounds slightly younger than Lucas. And she sounds sick. And angry.

"Listen here, Ed-NERD Alan Munson," the girl hisses sassily. " I KNOW I did not just hear you tell my brother that he is coming in even when HE TOLD YOU why he can't. It's giving desperate. It's giving exploitation of your employees. If you want my brother to come in for a half shift at your stupid gentlemen's club then you best pull up to our residence, YOURSELF, with them spicy chicken wings level Creeping. Death. My tongue? It needs to be on FIRE. My eyes? They need to be burning from the temperature and sauce. My sinuses? BOYYY, you better be-LIEVE they oughta be SO CLEAR, I could cough up a loogie, SPIT IT OUT THE WINDOW, and have it smack you RIGHT UPSIDE THE HEAD SO HARD you won’t even THINK about forcing my brother to do something he isn’t comfortable doing again. Keep trying me, motherfucker. THE FUCK WRONG WITCHU."

Steve is flabbergasted. Eddie's mouth is wide open. You would’ve thought Lucas’s sister was on speakerphone but she wasn’t.

You're scared of Erica Sinclair. And so is Eddie, the way his eyes widen at her spiel. If Lucas's sister ever got into a heated argument with Billy, Billy would go home crying.

“And some sweet potato fries," she adds softly. "Please. Do we have a deal?"

"At your service," Eddie deals her a salute through the phone, even though she can't see it. "Anything Applejack wants, she gets. I'll be over after my Meijer run."

"As you should, sir."

Eddie turns to you after he hangs up the phone. "Don't ever own a business."

——————— 🛒—————

“WE GROW UP AND MOVE AWAY... The seasons pass, but the monsters stay.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Hellfire is Eddie’s baby. The man lives and breathes that strip club.

As much as you’ve already harbored that suspicion, you didn’t realize his work-life balance was practically non-existent. Running errands. Frequent call-outs. Always having to prepare for the unexpected. But that’s the price one pays for owning a business. It also only seems to get harder and harder when you’re a handsome business man like Eddie, someone with the drawing power like that of a 13,000 gauss magnet.

“Mike to Munson, do you copy?”

You and Eddie have hit the road now, ready to start your errands run before your shift begins. As Eddie drives, he has you hold his phone up for him while he speaks to the boys in their group FaceTime call.

“Copy,” Eddie responds. “Thank you for covering ground, dear Paladin. It is because of you we are no longer… short staffed.”

God, they’re such dorks. You’d cringe if Eddie didn’t have the sex appeal of a Roman god.

“It’s the least I can do,” Mike insists. “Taking inventory as we speak. We need more ground chili and pop cans. Cola and Fanta, please. When you go to Meijer.”

“Done deal,” Eds nods. “Who’s doing side quests?”

“Me!” Will chimes in. “Doing silverware, stainless steel, and just helping Jonathan open up the bar.”

“Thank you, Byers-squared.”

“And I’ll sweep and do windows,” Dustin adds. “We’ll figure out the front house situation as it unfolds. Gonna be a little late. Getting gas.”

Eddie places a firm palm over your hand. He smiles at you when you look over.

“Running errands with Shy Girl, we’ll see you soon.”

“Pulling in now. Over.”

“Us too. Over.”

“Over and out, boys.”

————- 🚐———-

After your Meijer run, you and Eddie stop by CVS for Wayne’s medications and the ‘morning after’ pill. And shortly after that, you two haul ass to the other side of town to scoop up Nina.

Eddie gives the young dancer a ride to work almost every day. He also smokes her out before the shift, evident by her waltzing in stoned out of her mind all the time. It brings you peace knowing the whole story now, and that there truly is nothing more to it than that.

“Your boyfriend really needs a new car,” Eddie huffs to Nina as she climbs into the backseat. “Been telling him that shit’s on it’s last good tire.”

Figuratively and literally. The 90s Buick that you caught sight of shortly before Nina shuffled in can only be described as a lost cause. Nina knows it too, the way she scowls at the thing.

She tsks as she clicks her seatbelt in place.

“Duh, Eds. What do you think I’m saving up for?”

Eddie holds up an eighth.

“I can think of a few things,” he chuckles. “I take it you’re a fan of all things eco mode.”

“Hey, it’s 2022, of course we’re going green.”

Eddie grins. “I like how you think, sweetheart.”

Nina looks over to see who’s in the front seat. Her eyes glimmer when she realizes it’s you.

“Oh, hey Shy Girl!” she cheers.

You smile at her contently. Securely.

“Hey, Neens.”

Eddie starts up his van once again.

“Alright everyone,” he says as he shifts gears. “Hold onto something. We’re on a tight schedule so expect some Eddie Stops.”

“Not this again,” Nina mutters.

“Oh boy…” you add.

SKRRRT!

———— 🏠 ————

After dropping both Nina and the groceries off at Hellfire, you and Eddie set out to Forest Hills Trailer Park to visit his infamous Uncle Wayne.

“Wayne’s the man,” Eddie boasts as he drives on. “Taught me how to fish. Somehow taught me how to drive. Automatic and stick.”

He laughs at that one.

“Even took me out of the foster care system when I was 16. I lived in his old room for years while he took the pull-out couch in the living room.”

“Foster care?” you echo as he nods. “He was tired of you jumping from home to home?”

“Nah, I just kept running away,” Eddie cackles. “If a kid was ever in the police station for something, nine times out of 10 it was probably me. I was stressing way too many people out, Uncs probably felt bad for them.”

“But he also loves you, I bet,” you grin. “You’re his nephew, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles too. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Eddie pulls into an empty dirt road just yards from the estate. You two climb out of the van together, slamming the doors in unison.

Eddie leads you up the stairs by the hand, then uses his other one to wave at old neighbors close by.

“Hey y’all! How ya doin’?” he exclaims. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you. “Those are the Johnsons. Their sons were frequent customers of mine in high school.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Eddie waves to another pair of neighbors.

“And those are the Jacobsons. I bought their sons alcohol their senior year for homecoming. Buncha lightweights though. Wouldn’t recommend.”

“Well aren’t you a hero,” you jest.

“Hey, someone’s gotta pay the bills,” Eddie shrugs, half-jokingly. “You would think 40 years at The Plant gave you a decent insurance plan but that wasn’t the case. Had to help Wayne out for a fat minute. Still do every now and then.”

Eddie shifts closer to the door and gives it a couple knocks. He leans his head towards the doorframe, placing his lips just inches away from the chipped, painted wood.

“Wayne Munson,” Eddie bellows in his playful, deep voice. “It’s your friendly neighborhood pharmacist here. I’ve come with your percs, your piss pill, and your Motrin.”

Percocet and Motrin.

Two very strong pain killers. Hearing those names send chills down your spine. Those are the same meds Mom overdosed on when Billy found her.

But given Wayne’s circumstances, it’s not too much of a concern. According to what Eddie has told you, his uncle had just retired and is very frail. Heavy machinery and long hours can do that to someone. Just constant, chronic pain.

The door swings open and you hear Eddie greet Wayne like a grateful man would greet his dad. “Hey, Old Man! How are you?”

“Hello, there my boy. Agh, watch it. ‘s hurtin’ again.”

It didn't seem like anyone was at the door when you look over. But that was because you were looking about two feet too high.

Your eyes travel to the level at which Eddie bends down and there you see Uncle Wayne, having wheeled himself to the door to greet Eddie with a warm hug.

Oh this goes deeper than you thought.

A nose cannula. Yellow grippy socks. The wheelchair that housed his thin, fragile body. The navy blue Pacers beanie that concealed the fact that the man had very little hair.

Wayne’s face was extremely chiseled in, deeming him malnourished and underweight. The bags under his eyes that drooped heavily against his sockets took up a good portion of his face — nearly half.

You look at the place behind him. His trailer had lots of rails installed, Ensure protein shakes for adequate nutrition, and the pull out couch was set up to look like a bedroom, with a collapsible dresser right beside it that was nearly lost in a sea of orange medicine bottles.

The realization nearly knocks the wind out of you.

Wayne is sick. He almost looks terminal.

It feels like the ground had opened up and swallowed you whole. Your knees feel wobbly like gelatin, but Eddie is too busy reuniting with his father figure to notice. When he turns back around, he pulls you into him, with the biggest smile on his face.

“There’s uh, someone I want you to meet,” Eddie says to Wayne, his cheeks now a deep shade of pink. “This is Shy Girl.”

“Shy Girl,” Wayne smiles the same bright smile that Eddie has. “So you’re the THEE Shy Girl that my Eddie’s been rambling to me about. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sweetheart.”

You meet Wayne where he’s at, shaking his cold hand at eye level and giving him the warmest smile you can.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Munson.”

“Mr. Munson,” Wayne smirks cheekily. There’s a hint of who he used to be when he does that. He was most likely a firecracker just like Eddie, evident by how the two start poking at each other in a teasing manner. “Didn’t realize we were at a business meeting. In that case, we shall not waste any time. You and Eddie can come on in now, Miss Hargrove.”

Butterflies form in your stomach. You never told Wayne your last name.

And soon you’re in Wayne’s trailer, Eddie’s old home before he grew his wings and left the nest. A bittersweet energy floods the room. It only becomes more prominent when you see Eddie and Wayne holding hands as they make their way inside.

“Welcome to my office,” Wayne proceeds, carrying on with the banter. “I’ve got some tea in the cupboards, as well as some stale saltines because this one over here thinks I should watch my sodium intake. You’re more than welcome to help yourself.”

“Thank you so much,” is all you’re able to say.

“No worries, doll.”

Wayne darts his gaze back over to Eddie. “Anywho. Now that the formalities are over… son, I need to take a shit.”

The same dry humor too. You giggle and glance over at Eddie while he grimaces at Wayne in annoyance. But, since it’s not his first rodeo, he obliges, unlocking Wayne’s wheelchair to wheel him over to the commode that was concealed behind a DIY curtain.

“Did you do your exercises today?” you hear Eddie ask him.

"I tried. Got tired ‘bout halfway through.”

“What are your oxygen levels looking like?”

“Satting 88 percent without my oxygen. 93 percent on three liters.”

“That’s what we like to see. Good job, baby. I’m proud of you.”

You stand off to the side, giving Wayne as much privacy and dignity you can throughout this very intimate ordeal.

While Eddie is away with him, you keep yourself distracted with Wayne’s mug collection, as well as the array of trucker hats that decorated one of the four walls. You take a look at what’s on the TV: The Price is Right is just about to go on a commercial break. And on the coffee table rested an assortment of dated magazines, all going back to as early as 2008. Ah yes, recession core.

Within a few short moments, Eddie comes back out. You study him as he makes his way to the kitchen to wash his hands, making faces at the friendly neighborhood cats who liked to make themselves at home on the porch.

“Anyways!” Eddie exclaims. “I’m gonna start making Erica’s wings cuz we got everything here.”

He starts back over to you.

“But before I do, want me to show you my old room? It’s like a huge time capsule. Wayne hasn’t touched it since I left.”

You can barely meet his eyes. Eddie is acting way too normal about this. Or maybe you’re too dramatic.

He sees you frowning, thinking.

“…You okay?” he attempts with you.

"Eds... I didn't know," you whisper softly.

But Eddie smiles a bit. "That's okay. I initially didn't want you to know."

"How bad is it?"

"Stage 3. Lung cancer."

"How long has he had it?"

"Siiiince… March of 2020?” Eddie recalls. "We initially thought it was covid because of all the pulmonary stuff..."

He gestures around his own lungs.

"So what started out as a — rather intimate — nose swab turned into a biopsy that turned into getting a team of specialists….”

He glances over at Wayne to make sure he’s still okay.

“To having uncomfortable talks with the case worker about...exploring other options... And then to me being his full-time caregiver."

"March of 2020..." you recall. "Isn't that the same time you and Isabelle got divorced?"

"We were finalizing it..." Eddie corrects you. “But that’s neither here or there.”

“And Hellfire?”

“We were struggling for a bit not gonna lie,” Eddie chuckles. “It was during the start of covid and no one wanted to leave the house. Even when the babes were smoking hot.”

Holding up a palm, you stop him from explaining any further.

“So let me get this straight,” you state. “Your piece of shit dad UNALIVED your mom in cold blood when you were a kid, your father figure has cancer. You somehow manage to care for him full-time all while basically living at Hellfire, your business that your ex wife tried to SABOTAGE; which led to you getting arrested and released on bail up until your trial where you were then proven NOT GUILTY. But even then, your reputation still remains slightly tainted because almost everyone in Hawkins is a narrow-minded, self-righteous prick who weaponizes religion to get an upper hand? And they know you’re an easy target so that’s exactly what they did in this case, making your life and Wayne’s a living hell when it was the last thing you two needed at the time?”

“It be like that sometimes.”

Eddie flashes you a sarcastic, ‘I’m alive’ peace sign. He’s not helping.

Your heart just about shatters.

Eddie has suffered so much. But he hides it so well with his never-ending sarcasm and Munson magic.

And to think all of this — Hellfire, Wayne, and divorcing Isabelle — went down a couple years ago. He still had his childhood to sort through. If that's even plausible.

“It’s also kinda why Chrissy and I were screwing around,” Eddie adds, snapping you out of your thinking. “Apparently I was constantly depressed and she wanted to keep me distracted and all. Again, fun. But very short-lived.”

You fall into him and squeeze him tight. Eddie is almost taken aback by it. But nevertheless, he returns the favor.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you demand. "You have all of this going on and you're asking me if I'm alright?"

Oh, how lonely Eddie must’ve felt through all of this. You just want to hold him. Take away all of his pain.

It’s always the angels on earth who get sent to hell and back. Eddie deserves the world, and you’re going to go your best to give it to him.

"Are we alright?" you question him.

"Of course we're alright," Eddie insists, ruffling your hair like it’s the silliest thing you’ve ever asked him.

He pulls away from you. Rubs your back delicately as you soak in all of this new information.

“You sure you want to sign up for all of this?”

You are absolutely more than sure.

“Now why would you even ask that?” you choke. “You know my stubborn ass. I’m not backing down without a fight.”

“Yeaaah,” Eddie squints. “I guess you are pretty stubborn.”

You fall into one another again, kissing each other like it’s the air you need to breathe. Eddie delicately cups your face with his hands, relishing in the last couple of smooches before he pulls away.

“I like stubborn though.”

“You and me, Eddie.”

“You and me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie!” Wayne calls, innocently interrupting the moment. “I’m done, boy, now come help me get up.”

“Comin’!” Eddie cranes his neck, shouting in Wayne’s general direction. He kisses you one more time on the forehead before excusing himself. “Be right back, babe.”

You and Eddie leave for Hellfire shortly after spending a little bit more time with Wayne.

The entire ride there, you let Eddie talk about his memories with his uncle… how he’s attended homecoming rallies, talent shows, graduations, and the less-than-celebratory court hearings — loving Eddie unconditionally through thick and thin. He was there for Eddie’s senior prom, snapping photos of him with the boys and his date Ronnie, who was also his best friend at the time.

Wayne was also there for Eddie’s wedding, even though he didn’t particularly like Isabelle. Again, every milestone, Wayne was there for.

You fawn over Eddie as he continues to talk, the spark in his eyes never leaving for as long as it’s about his loved ones. You can only hope he talks to Wayne and the others about you in the same way.

You can’t believe this is real life.

From here on out, it’s going to be you and Eddie. And you’re going to be by his side no matter what, because he’s proven to you that he is committed to doing the same.

From here on out, it’s going to be Shy Girl and Eddie… and nothing… NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #joe quinn #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #Spotify

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sivyera · 5 months

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Dating or jealousy hc's for Bunnymund from Rise of the guardians? I love that movie.

sure!

DATING HEADCANONS WITH BUNNYMUND FROM RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

༺☆༻

Bunnymund is a big tease and a huge flirt, so he will constantly be smirking at you, looking up and down and then tease you when you blush on his compliments

he'd always stay behind you or next to you. just in case, you never know when danger will show up

i believe he doesn't really like PDA but he will hold your hand in front of others, maybe a small kiss on the cheek

but when are you alone he'll turn into a huge cuddle bunny. he'll hug you tight so he can protect you and then he'll stroke your hair because it brings him comfort (somehow)

he gets easily jealous when you talk to other men, when it's Jack the one you talk to he'll go feral

i mean he and Jack have some... history, not that he doesn't like him but Jack stills in some way annoy him so

he'd be really happy if you help him with Easter, like painting some eggs and help him organize it

after Easter Holiday he'll probably get really tired so you two will lay down in the bed for the next few days to take a long relaxing break

when you scratch him behind his ear, he'll be over the moon! i mean it, he really REALLY loves it.

he'd let you crave something into the wood of his boomerang if you promise him that it will be something nice

he'll make you your own boomerang and teach you how to throw it, if you'd like otherwise he says that he's strong enough to protect the both of you

North will tease and "provoke" Bunnymund a lot. when North once caught him staring at you for like a few more extra minutes and he laugh and tease Bunnymund the whole week

so from now on Bunnymund is trying not to stare or do anything "extra" romantic around others but he always fails because you are just so beautiful that he cannot help himself but stare

when he means something really seriously like when he says "i love you" to you or when he's making you a promise, he'll always put his forehead on yours (it's like a pinky promise just different)

i believe he has a horrible sweet tooth so if you can bake, you two will make a lot of mess because he'll stand behind you, tasting every ingredient like sugar or chocolate, then the dough and then the finished baked pie

also when he's jealous his ears will go back, like really low down almost on his back and his fur will go spiky

but that happens only with someone really dangerous like Pitch and sometimes when Jack provokes long enough

sometimes he will also stamp his foot when he's jealous to signalize you that he doesn't like the person and when you leave he'll frown at the person and somehow growl at them

the only way how to calm him down is when you kiss his nose or stroke the inside of his ears because his nose and ears are extremely sensitive so when you kiss his nose he will be surprised and it will take him few seconds to process what just happened, same with his ears, if you gently stroke them he'll relax into it

sometimes he gets a bit overprotective and overjealous so you have to have a bit more patience with him, it's not that he doesn't trust you but he's afraid that someone can use to against him like Pitch or that someone will make you uncomfortable

he loves you a lot so he's trying his best

#sivyera #x reader #fluff #sivyera's masterlist #sivyera update #sivyera masterlist #sivyera request #rise of the guardians #rise of the guardians x reader #rise of the guardians bunnymnd x reader #bunnymund x reader #rotg bunnymund #rotg x reader #rotg bunnymund x reader #dating bunnymund from rotg #dating bunnymund #jealous bunnymund x reader

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cattonicdragon · 11 months

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Could we have a tooth fairy Easter bunny Jack frost and platonic north and sandy with a reader that represents Halloween(reader looks like a mix between a crow and scarecrow) that's scared that there holiday is on the decline and has become a little depressed because of it. Thank and love your stuff ::::)

Guardians《seperate》 x Halloween guardian reader who's holiday is being forgotten

Guys in back,again(probally gonna disappear again lol)

In fr trying to catch up this time.

Anyways I ty for the request!:3

Angst,fluff,hurt with comfort,readers sad :(

has not been proofread, A/N at the end

Tooth fairy

Its early October,you know what that means, its Halloween time

The time where the vail between the spiritual world and the living is the thinnest

You and tooth usually celebrate together,she does get more work during hallowing because of all the candy but she spends the most of her time with you

She helps you hang up the decorations and spread the Halloween feels

However you havnt done that yet,not only that but you dont have that much time left you only have a month

Once tooth realizes that somethings wrong she'll immidatly do ask the other guardians if they had seen you or if they had heard something from you,the results all come back the same,you were seemingly no where

She decided to check the globe,that could have a clue right?

That's when she noticed there were many less lights then usual,and that when it started to line up..

People were forgetting about you.

The last time you had spoke before going radio silent you had mentioned that it wasnt even October and people were advertising Christmas things

She had realised that you had probally hid yourself away becuase of this

When she does eventually find you shes understandable very worried for you.

After she gets a thorough explanation she'll waste no time in helping you with preparations

However first off,she has to get you in the Halloween mood,as your current one is rather sour,and we cant have that!

She cheers you up by bringing you around and showing you places that are getting ready for Halloween

She brings you to see a small shop that has cobwebs,spiders,skeletons,ghosts the whole lot,she smiles as she sees a small one form on your lips

She then brings you to stores as parents and kids are choosing out pumpkins,baskets,sweets and costumes

When a smile finally Grace's your lips she hugs you tightly and tugs with her to get more decorations up and around

She understands what it feels like to be forgotten and she dosnt want that to happen to you

Bunnymund/Easter bunny

Hes used to people neglecting his holidays for others

But hes surprised when there seems to be lesser lights on the globe

Things line up really quickly in his head as the cogs start working

He dosnt waste a second,immediately searching for you in fear you've disappeared

Once he finds you he tries to calm you down reassuring you that aslong as hes there he wont let you disappear

He even decorates Easter island with some Halloween decorations

He gives you Halloween styled eggs as a way to cheer you up

He will decorate pumpkins with you aswell

since halloween takes place in fall he might take you to forests where the leaves have turned orange and are starting to fall

he will help you decorate places and even though hes not the biggest sweet tooth,with a big oof bribery im sure he'll try a sweet oor two

he'll constantly be there and comforting you

easter isnt all ways widley celebrated so hes probally had a fear of fading aswell

he wont ever say it but due to the fact that your holidays is overlooked in favour for christmas,he holds a small grudge

he knows its not norths fault but hes just salty

Jack frost

Honestly hes kind of tone deaf

hes very happy go lucky and isnt used or very good at adapting to change

id like to think that he was quite close to you even before becoming a guardian,because halloween is in the colder months of the year

it might take another guardian to point out your abscents or off behaviour

however just because hes abit tone deaf dosnt mean hes not smart

once its been pointed out to him hes going on a man hunt for you

altough he wasnt in an entirely similar situation,he still knows what its like to feel isolated,scared and alone,and as his S/o he dosnt want yuo feeling the same

once locating you the first thing he'll do is make sure your not fading away

if you are then he will moost likely panic

he will eventually calm himself down,realising that panicing wont help it at all

his first priorety is to make sure that your ok

mentally and physically

afterwards he takes you to do things to take it off your mind

some of his favorite things to do are skating and carving pumpkins,if your not good at either he'll help you

he loves decorating everywhere with fun decorations

his favorite halloween decore are those door bells that grab youor finger or smth(i hate those things with a passion,so i can imagine him loving them)

north/santa claus

if anyones going to find out the fastest,itts north

he has to keep a keen eye on the months and probally realise that its your holliday

his first reaction is to celebrate your holiday with you,he feels alot like a father figure to you and as such he feels he needs to celebrate your holiday with you

though the smile on his face dosnt stay long as he finds that many stores,instead of having halloween decoration.have christmas things

thats not right.

at first he thinks it might just be the store,and so he checks others

thats until he becomes aware that its most stores

why are they all decroated with christmas decore,they should be deced out with sceletons and pumpkins

not snowmen and gingerbreadmen

after coming to this realisation he checks the globe before visiting you#

he gets quite anxxious once checking the globe

hes quick to find and omfort you,hes quite furious people are neglecting your holiday for his.christmas is still months away!

after calming you down he will go ALL OUT on halloween decorations,the north pole dosnt even look like what it once was,white robes with dark circles are hanging around the celeing,skeletons have been placed everywhere in different positions,fake spiders and fake spider webs have been thrown enywhere they can.

all the elves and yeti's take a day off,to decorate pumpkins.

he'll probaly also reach out to the other guardians,inviting them all over so you can all celebrate together.<3

sandy/sandman

sandy is very intune with the going oon in the world,aswell as being extremly intuitive

hes probally seen this coming though he didnt think itd be to such an extent where it'd cause you distress

after feeling a particullary cold gust of autaum wind its clear something is wrong

after checking the globe it seems that his hypthesis had become reality

he wasnt very surprised since he had a nagging feeling it'd happen,apart of him thinks that he might have just been denieing that you had the possibility to fade,that he was in denial

either way he had to push his own thoughts away as he had more importtant things to do,such as comforting you and restoring your holiday to its former glory,or at least try to.

after locating you hes quick to alert you of his precents though he may not be the best at calming you down since,he cant really speak.

hes most likely to put you to sleep and give you good dreams whilst brainstorming ideas to help your current dilema

once your awake and calm,he'll try his best to relay his ideas and help you

cutting pumpkins is a must

he will try his best to make candy with you

if you ever need some comfort just say the word and hes hugging you and trying his best to comfort you

he makes sure you have good dreams for days

he promises that he'll try his best to help you

he'll be dammed if he ever didnt go through with that promise to you.

the other guardians will most likely notice both of your distress and end up helpping,either that or sandy asks them directly.

hope this is ok,i havnt writeen in a while,btw this was written with a keyboard and i cant be botherd to proof read it rn and just wanted to post it so here you go!,but in all seriosuness i will be working on my other requests,thank you all for being pateint with me<<33

#cattonic writes #rise of the guardians x reader #rise of the guardians #tooth fairy x reader #tooth fairy #north x reader platonic #sandy x reader platonic #x reader #rotg x reader #rotg north #platonic x reader #my writing #rotg jack frost #jack frost x reader #rotg tooth #rotg bunnymund #rotg sandy

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