#also because I'm still figuring out Soap and his Darling's dynamic

[ghouljams]

your fae au is WONDERFUL i kinda read every single post in one sitting and can't get enough of those fae boys (loved them all but Soap and König are my favs, mean trickster Johnny ❤my love). Do you have some more of Soap and their Darling, pretty please with a cherry on top? Maybe Soaps visits Liebling shop? Does Johnny know König, they probably wouldn't like one another but Soap never was one to get scared...

This is a good post to say: No Fae!141 do not know König! Or like, they know of him because he's a weirdo but they don't know him. Price maybe has met him, but the rest of the boys are not acquainted with the nasty boy. This is a lot of Soap's darling being an adhd queen and not a lot of romance stuff. Very territorial fae vibes tho.

We’re going to get a quick Liebling POV before jumping to Soap and his Darling because God, I love terrorizing Liebling's shop.

You’ve had very little reason to fear the creatures that enter your shop since König started hanging around. You really have no reason to fear anything with him hanging over your shoulder at every hour of the work day. König tends to keep most of the fae in line by sheer presence alone, and human customers tend to act better when they notice how imposing he is. “Scary dog privilege” is what Love called it.

That said, this one is… bad. In a way that squirms in your stomach, visceral and primal and understanding in a way that you can’t even start to think about. He looks human enough, but it’s wrong. The way he moves, limbs long and calculated, elegant and dangerous, inhuman in a way you’d expect from a spider not a man. His voice rubs against your brain like petting the wrong way on velvet, hollow behind the friendly tone, in-genuine. His eyes slide to you like water and stop, staring, Looking.

Ice cold fear grips you tight in your chest. He doesn’t like you. You know it as soon as you meet his eye that you are something he despises. Not in an interpersonal way, no, he hates you the way you would hate a cockroach. Just through the virtue of its very existence in your presence.

König wraps a hand over your eyes, warm darkness obscuring your vision. You’re thankful for it, before you remember this isn’t exactly workplace appropriate behavior. You pull at his wrist and he presses harder against your eyes. His body curls over you, growling a low warning.

-

You are just full to bursting with ideas. You feel all light and golden and your brain wheels are turning at 100 miles an hour and you are getting that sweet sweet dopamine just how you like. God, you love that brand new special interest feel.

You pull out your phone to write a few lines down that pop into your mind and then can’t stop. Johnny’s hand slides right at home on your lower back, as you type. Your shoulders jerk a little, not used to being touched when you’re in the zone. Your fingers hover over the digital keyboard, trying to come up with the next line, no this is a good stopping point for now. You look up at your neglected date and he’s not even looking at you. He’s frowning at some guy across the store. He’s talking to the woman behind the counter, spinning her toward the back room insistently. Not your circus. You turn back to the display you’d stopped in front of. 

You came in here for something, not that you remember what that was, plant stuff probably. You do have a few houseplants still desperately clinging to life. You pick up one of the cute little potted succulents and try to ignore the way the hand on your back is starting to burn. Johnny’s fingers curl against your shirt, breaking the fabric and digging into your skin. You hiss and jerk away from the feeling. Whatever spell he was under seems to break as you rub your back. Your shirt is all in one piece and the pain is gone like it was never there. Still, you’re not a fan of whatever that was.

“Thought we were looking for a notebook,” Johnny says as you hold up the terracotta pot to check for a price.

“I have a million notebooks,” You tell him, settling the pot back in its place. You look up at him, there’s something different in his face, something- huh, you don’t have the right word for it. He’s like a cat with its hackles raised. But that’s not quite right. You don’t have the right linguistic trigger to pull the word from your catalog. Not upset, almost… threatened. Almost. You’ll think of it later. “You good? We can do something else if you want.”

“I’m happy just being with you, we don’t need to do anything special.” He smiles, and it feels… hollow.

“You’re not a very good liar,” You raise a brow and his eyes widen ever so slightly before his smile turns into something much more genuine.

“Let’s do something else.” He relents. You nod, that’s much better. You don’t like being given the runaround, direct is your preference. That’s part of the reason you like Johnny so much, he doesn’t beat around the bush with you.

“We can grab lunch? I’m starving.” You tell him, letting him lead the way out of the shop. Your wrist is grabbed as Johnny holds the door for you, and you turn to see the rather frazzled looking shop girl. She presses something like crumpled paper into your palm with a tight expression.

“This is weird, I’m really sorry, but please take this,” She says and you give her a confused look but nod. She looks almost relieved, and lets you go. You follow Johnny out of the shop and open you hand curiously.

It’s paper, notebook paper, with a phone number on it and some weird name you don’t understand. You don’t really pay attention to the name on it, focus instead drawn to the silvery ring. It’s basic but pretty, not the sort of thing you’d give to a stranger. You slip it into your pocket to inspect later, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“So, lunch! I’m thinking-” You list out a few options, meandering the conversation in whichever direction you please as Soap bites down a growl. The only thing worse than a seer is a nosy seer.

#I had a lot of trouble writing this because I was like geez putting other fae around Konig just puts them on the offensive #plus Liebling's shop rules stop a lot of conflicts and what have you #also because I'm still figuring out Soap and his Darling's dynamic #I don't know a lot about her yet she's still cooking #I'm all over the place on her character because I don't want her to be clueless like Love #but I also can't have her know too much or she won't stick around Soap #maybe he tells her #maybe Love tells her #OH WAIT HOLD ON I FORGOT GHOST AND SOAP ARE BESTIES #YEah Love tells her lol the menace takes care of things as usual #Fae!Soap #Fae Au #fae!konig #johnny soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader

[peachesofteal]

Oh sweet, sweet Peach 🥺 I just blew through your Dead Disco writing in a matter of hours and holy fucking shit I think it might seriously be one of my favorite fic series I’ve ever read in my entire fucking life. I am completely, utterly, irredeemably in love with the way you’ve captured their dynamic—I just want to snuggle up in their little world and never leave. I adore the way you’ve written about Darling’s insecurities in such a realistic way because I know if I were in her situation I’d struggle with the same issues. And the way Simon steps up as a dom to take care of his loves both in and out of the bedroom… cue open weeping. He’s perfect. Johhny’s perfect. Darling’s perfect. So perfect I can hardly stand it. And your writing overall is so beautiful; you should be beyond proud of what you’ve created ❤️

One thing I’d love to see if you’re still writing for this series is for Simon and Johnny to figure out what is going on at work that is stressing Darling out so much (maybe a coworker or superior harassing her and threatening her job if she doesn’t give in) and they just ‘casually’ stop by to bring her lunch and catch the coworker in the act and go all overprotective 🤤 God I love me some overprotective Ghost and Johnny!

Anyways, thank you for sharing your creations! You seriously should be so proud ❤️ much much love!

Hi! Thank you so much, this was so incredibly sweet of you. I've loved living in their little world so for you to say you could curl up inside of it too makes me so incredibly happy. I love them so much, sharing them with others who also loves them just turns me into a pile of sap.

Additionally, I was so happy to write this little snippet that takes place after "On a Slow Night", so thank you for the inspiration. I got to dive into Darling's life a little bit and it was so fun.

Ghost x Soap x female reader Takes place after On a Slow Night This is CANON (weird I have to say this now but I dig it) for Dead Disco. Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Protective Simon and Johnny. Possessive Simon and Johnny. Darling doing darling things. Anxiety. Eating and food related issues.

It was well past five in the evening.

It was well past five in the evening, and you were still at work, eyes straining across two monitors, comparing lists and numbers across two screens, estimates and bids and evaluations all jumbled together.

A mess. You were staring at a mess, a mess that you hadn't even begun to unravel, a mess that you had to fix before even thinking about going home for the night, the realization of that fact settling like a stone in the pit of your stomach. It unsettles you, sending unease surging through your veins, making your skin crawl with anxiety.

This was your dream job. So why didn't it feel like a dream?

You knew that answer, of course. It was because your new boss, the promote-from-within, the monster that walked these halls, despised you. She regarded you the same way she regarded a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of her way too expensive heels, with disdain.

Johnny had tried, bless him, to encourage you to go over her head, to say something to her boss, even though you explained you couldn't.

"I'm just an assistant curator. I can't go over her head, her boss barely even knows my name yet." He had argued, tried to push, until Simon stomped his fight out.

"She can't violate the chain of command. You know that."

Besides, you weren't a snitch. You weren't going to behind her back, or above her head, just for her to retaliate against you later. Which she certainly would. You weren't willing to risk it. You were due to be promoted, and had been waiting. For over two years.

Your phone buzzes against the desk, the group chat lighting up your screen. It's the guys, with the usual questions; where are you, when will you be home, what do you want for dinner. It makes your heart ache, a little bit, makes your head spin, thinking about them at home without you, waiting. Standing by. Just as you do for them, all the time. You begin to type out a half hazard text, trying to explain how you're going to be late, again, when a shrill voice grates against your ears.

"Knock knock." She's standing prim and proper right in the doorway of your office, bony fingers folded around a stack of papers. Oh my fucking god, no way. "These need to be scanned and compiled along with your acquisition list from today." The pressure in your skull skyrockets and you fight the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Kelly, I've really got a lot on my plate. Is there a way I can-"

"Are you refusing?" Orange red lipsticked coated lips flex into a feline smile. A sinister smile. A smart one. Fuck.

"N-no. No, I wouldn't."

"Great. tonight then." She drops them in front of you with a thud, eyeing your taupe wool sweater with disgust.

"Okay, tonight." You slump forward in defeat. You wanted to go home. You wanted to curl up on the couch between the guys, and let run you a bath or give you a back rub. All of that... sounded a lot better than all of this.

I'm going to be really late now. You shoot off the text before putting your phone facedown and cradling your head in your hands.

How late? Johnny asks immediately and you grimace.

Have you eaten? Did you finish your lunch? You try not to wince at the direct line of questioning from Simon, who undoubtedly already knows his answer, based on how you were feeling this morning when they tried to feed you breakfast, and how busy you've been at work.

Don't know. Yes. Half of it. You fire back, ignoring the burn of the guilt from the lie, and then put it in your drawer. Less distractions means you'll get home sooner if you can focus and just get it done.

You don't mean to fall asleep at your desk. It's just, the heat kicks on, and the room warms to a very nice temperature, and your eyelids feel so heavy that you suddenly find yourself excusing it a little if you lay your head down for a minute.

It's a mistake. It's the worst mistake, and you know it, you feel the weight of your mistake sharply when there's a crone like voice shrieking near your ear and you're jerking up in a fright, eyes wide in panic.

"-eeping? While you're getting paid? When you're supposed to be working?" She's standing inside your office now, a foot from your desk, face twisted into a macabre mask of indignation.

"I'm sorry." You croak. "Didn't mean to." You palm finds your face and you rub, trying to get with it, and quickly, before she loses her mind. Your head is spinning, dizzy and clouded, and you curse yourself for not actually eating at least half your lunch like you said you did.

"And you think you'll be a curator next year? With this kind of lazy behavior." She scoffs, nose wrinkled, and shame licks against the skin of your jaw while you grind your teeth.

"Kelly, I'm sorry. I'm exhausted and-"

"I don't want to hear your stupid excuses. I should fire you, right now. Sleeping! On the-"

"What the fuck is going on here?" Everything inside you grinds to a halt at the sound of the deep, gritted Manchester accent. Oh, fuck.

Simon's standing just inside the office, Johnny next to him, holding a bag. It's got a Tupperware in it, you can see from here, still fogged up by the warm contents inside. They've brought you dinner. Your heart melts at the sight, and then swiftly hardens and drops like a stone when you realize 1. They're not allowed to be in here after hours and 2. Simon just cussed at your boss. When you don't say anything, still sitting there slack jawed, Johnny prompts you.

"Darling? Is everything alright?" You try to put a thought together, to answer, but Kelly beats you to it, turning on a dime, taking a few steps to where they lurk just inside your office.

"Who are you? You can't be in here after hours." She hisses, and while Johnny sneers at her before looking back to you, Simon's fist visibly clenches.

"Security let us in."

"They don't have the authority to do that, you can't be-" You stand, but the floor somewhat shifts beneath your feet, walls tilting, and your fingers grip the desk. It's enough for Johnny to disregard anything she's saying, pushing past where she stands with her hands on her hips to stand at your side, a steady hand on your elbow.

"Alright love?" The blue eyes search yours and you manage a nod.

"Jus' tired. A bit hungry." He looks back to Simon, who's watching you carefully, before he turns his irritated gaze back to Kelly.

"Did I hear you threatening to fire her?" His voice is cold. It's seeking, lethal, something sharp and refined that you've never heard. Johnny keeps his hand on you, thumb stroking soothing circles into your skin.

"She was asleep."

"Because ya've overworked her, you daft cunt." Johnny snaps, and her eyes widen in shock.

"How dare you! Who do you think you are?" She caws and Simon takes yet another step, this time close enough that she jerks backwards.

"She works outside her contracted hours all the time, and she doesn't complain. At your request." Simon cocks his head. "Sounds like a labor law violation, if ya ask me."

"Aye, it does." Johnny cheerfully agrees, warm palm sliding up and down your spine. Kelly looks between the three of you, something uncertain tugging at the corners of her eyes, before she's shaking her head in protest.

"She volunteers, she-"

"She's ours." Simon snarls it, and Kelly blanches. "And we're not going to allow whatever mistreatment is going on here to continue." Something warm simmers in your stomach, even though your mortified. Ours. She's ours. The words make boulder sized butterflies thrash in your stomach. You're probably going to need to find a new job, but this is kind of worth it. Kelly is sputtering at Simon, who's now standing with his arms crossed, glowering at her from the behind the mask, looking properly terrifying, while Johnny continues to rub your back, warm palm soothing you into a big yawn, one you fail to stifle. One they both see. He dismisses her, with one more promise of a phone call to the labor advisory, or worse, the board of directors. That threat alone is enough to shut her up, scaring her into pressing her back against the wall meekly, while Simon gives Johnny a subtle nod.

"We're leaving." Johnny declares, and Simon nods. He crosses the room to pull your bag from the back of your chair, while Johnny slides your laptop into it's sleeve and grabs your coffee cup. "C'mon darling, let's go home." He coaxes, and you let them lead you from the office, Johnny with a firm hand at your waist, Simon leading the way.

You don't look back at where Kelly stands in the hallway, gobsmacked and speechless.

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