#and i will begrudgingly admit that when you know what you're doing... it is maybe sort of a bit fun

[bosbas]

Chapter 9: I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.0k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, colin being incredibly down bad it's insane, Penelope DOES NOT have feelings for colin in this, the bridgertons being tapped in as fuck

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: this one wrote itself basically. so enjoy! happy weekend and a big smooch

June 6 – It seems that one Mr. Nigel Berbrooke has returned after an extended unexplained absence. He was spotted at the gentleman's club last night, though only for a very short time. This author heard that Mr. Berbrooke was asked to leave only an hour into his appearance due to a particularly aggressive threat he made toward Simon Basset. It’s safe to say that he has been uninvited from the Duke’s ball this evening, and perhaps from the rest of the social season’s events as well, depending on how lenient the Duke and Duchess of Hastings decide to be. 

However, information regarding his whereabouts for the past month is scarce, and this author lacks any reputable sources about what the man has been up to while away from London. But rest assured, dear readers, that any information I receive will be relayed through this very column.

Colin looked nervously at his reflection for what seemed like the hundredth time, adjusting his cravat ever so slightly. He sighed in frustration, accepting the fact that his appearance wouldn’t look quite right no matter what he did. 

Tonight was Daphne’s ball, and he knew for a fact that you would be in attendance. As much as he was trying to convince himself that this ball was no different, he knew it wasn’t going to be the same. Not after his talk with Anthony. There were some concerningly similar aspects between Kate and Anthony and his friendship– could he even call it a friendship? –with you, and Colin was not too hard-headed to be able to admit that. 

But he didn’t want to scare you off. As much as he liked you, he knew you were skittish after everything that happened with Lord Barlow. Besides, Colin didn’t even know if you liked him, too, or if you considered all of this as just an attempt to make you look desirable to other candidates. 

Frankly, Colin wasn’t even sure he could convince you to ever marry him. Maybe just being friends, or whatever it was the two of you had now, would suffice. Truthfully, he would take anything. 

Tonight, he just wanted a dance. And perhaps a chat, too. 

Based on the past few times Colin had spoken with you, he had concluded that you might be his favorite person in the ton to talk to. The mere thought of speaking with you tonight stirred excitement in his stomach. Every time you engaged in conversation, he found himself utterly captivated, forgetting everything else around him. What's more, you seemed genuinely interested in his what he had to say, a rarity among the ton. For the first time, he felt truly understood, and he hoped desperately that you reciprocated his sentiment. 

“You look fine,” assured Eloise. “Now can we please go? We’ll never hear the end of it from Daphne if we’re late!” 

Colin grumbled in annoyance but begrudgingly made his way to the carriage. In truth, he'd do just about anything to be near you. Even if he didn’t immediately dance with you– knowing full well you would be flocked by hordes of gentlemen wanting your hand in marriage– he still liked to simply… observe you. How your eyes crinkled shut when you laughed, the way you nervously bit your lip when someone you didn’t particularly like asked you to dance, the way you fiddled with your gloves when you were itching to get out of a conversation.

Bloody hell, Colin thought, maybe he did have feelings for you. Well, not love, that would be absurd. But certainly something more than the petty rivalry that had consumed your interactions for weeks on end. It was a sobering realization, especially after relentlessly antagonizing you for the better part of seven weeks.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about you that Colin barely noticed once the carriage had arrived at Daphne and Simon’s residence.

“Colin, darling, is anything the matter?” his mother inquired, tapping him on the arm and gently leading him toward his sister’s home.

“No, no, sorry. Everything’s alright, just got a bit distracted there,” he smiled back. 

Christ, he had to get a grip. You’d be put off immediately if you saw how he was acting now. He smoothed his coat down as he entered the ballroom, eyes immediately searching for you in the crowd.

He quickly spotted you speaking to a man he’d never seen before with Isabelle and Carlos by your side. Damn, thought. He’d have to wait to ask you to dance. 

But it was no bother. In the meantime, he attended to his duties as the most beloved Bridgerton. He sought out his sister and Simon to thank them for hosting the ball, of course, and danced with Penelope Featherington. 

Yet his focus stayed on you. He found himself glancing over to where you were every few minutes, just needing reassurance that you were still there. And also because he quite liked looking at you in general.  

Colin shook his head, bringing his attention back to Penelope. He had to remind himself to pull himself together. Even though Colin had spoken to Anthony, you had no reason to believe anything was different between you two. And it wasn’t. Everything was the same. It was only Colin who had changed. Who wanted something different, something more. 

“What’s on your mind?” asked Penelope after she noticed Colin’s drifting attention.

“Ah, nothing,” he responded dismissively. “Does Lady Montclair look particularly… subdued tonight, do you think?”

“Y/N?” Penelope clarified, looking over at where you were standing next to Louis. 

“Oh heavens, don’t look now!” Colin whispered, panicked. “She’ll see us both looking and know we were talking about her.”

Penelope laughed in disbelief. “Could it be? That my dear friend Colin Bridgerton is finally falling for someone? Have you truly found roots in England? Is that why you’ve stayed for so long this season?”

Colin could only smile bashfully. She had never seen him quite like this. And though it was unusual, it was fairly endearing to see him so flustered over a girl.

“Well, go talk to her, then. What are you doing dancing with me?”

“Penelope, I dance with you at every ball. I can go speak with her after. And don’t tell anyone! I’m not even sure if she likes me.”

“Very well then,” relented Penelope, but Colin did not miss the knowing smile she sent him.

After the dance concluded, Colin chatted with his brothers for a few minutes before making his way over to you and Louis, wanting to avoid seeming overly eager. But once he started walking toward you, your head shot up, as if you could tell that he was getting nearer. 

Your eyes met for a split second, but you immediately turned your head away, choosing instead to look at your gloved hands, which were fidgeting nervously. Colin frowned in confusion at your reaction, but continued walking, thinking that perhaps you had seen someone else behind him. 

As he reached your side, he saw you chewing anxiously on your lip and his frown deepened. But he pushed through. This was what he wanted, after all. You were what he wanted. 

“Lady Montclair,” he bowed. “Would you care for a dance tonight?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his lips as he reached for the dance card on your wrist.

But you pulled your hand away abruptly, refusing to meet his eyes. “No, thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” was your curt response. 

Colin’s confusion morphed into frustration. What was the matter with you?

“That’s alright, I understand if you want to save space on your dance card for more…serious suitors,” he cringed as he heard himself speak. But at the end of the day, he was well aware that you were looking for a titled gentleman to be your husband. “We could take a turn about the ballroom and chat for a bit,” he offered, looking at you hopefully once again.

You finally met his eyes, and he could tell you were searching for something as you looked at him, a pained look on your face.

“No, thank you,” you repeated firmly, an edge to your voice. 

Colin rolled his eyes. This was so typical of you. You let him in for about three seconds and then went back to keeping him at arm’s length for whatever unknown reason.

“Are we really back to doing this?” asked Colin, exasperated. “I thought we were friends, at the very least.”

Your spine was suddenly rigid, and a fury ignited in your eyes. “We were never friends, Mr. Bridgerton,” you ground out. “You were simply doing Eloise a favor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone else I must dance with.”

Your voice was cold and uncaring, and Colin was slapped with a reminder of how things used to be as you sidestepped him to go toward the other side of the ballroom. 

Three steps into your journey, it was clear that there wasn’t actually anyone waiting to dance with you, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you were so desperate to get away. Even at the peak of your hatred toward him, you were always open to verbally sparring. 

Colin turned around to Louis, shooting him a questioning look. But your brother could only shrug. Who knew what went on in the depths of your brain? Louis had noticed you had been slightly on edge ever since you returned from Hyde Park with your sisters yesterday afternoon, but he wasn’t expecting you to be this hostile, especially after getting along so well with Colin.

Feeling his desire to speak with you outweigh his pride, Colin turned back and grabbed your hand, turning you to face him. “If what you want is to go back to arguing, I’m happy to do that,” he said, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of going back to how things were.

He sounded positively pathetic. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping this fragile dynamic alive, keeping you near him. If Anthony and Kate could do it, couldn’t the two of you?

You seemed on the brink of tears, but your voice held an unspeakable fury. “What I want is for you to leave. Me. Alone,” you emphasized each word with a pointed jab at his chest. “Please,” you whispered, your voice faltering. “I do not wish to dance with you, or to chat with you, or even to be near you at all. Good night.”

With that, you pivoted away, heading towards the refreshment table, tears welling in your eyes. And Colin was left standing there, hand lingering over the spot on his chest you had prodded.

He felt a familiar anger rising through him. It didn’t matter that you were the only person in the world who understood him. It didn’t matter that you were completely beautiful and incredibly smart, either. And it certainly didn’t matter that he’d fallen for you. Because you still hated him. And he was a fool to ever think things could be different.

Colin was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he watched you smile and greet some gentleman or other. He flinched as he saw the man kiss the back of your hand, and watched, seething, as he led you to the dance floor. 

Deciding he needed something stronger than lemonade, Colin turned around and grabbed a glass of champagne, downing it in one go. He couldn’t believe you didn’t think he was your friend. What the hell else could you call it?

He spotted Eloise and Penelope chatting close by and stomped over to them. He was sure he looked like Gregory after a fight with Hyacinth, pouting with his arms crossed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

“I thought you were going to talk to Y/N,” said Penelope, confused to see him back so soon. 

Colin shot her a murderous look. “She wants nothing to do with me, apparently. She said the only reason I talked to her was out of a favor to Eloise.”

Eloise coughed awkwardly. “Well, didn’t you?”

“No!” shot back Colin defensively. “Not entirely, at least. I don’t know. I need to leave.” 

You were still dancing with the unnamed man, and Colin was very much still seething as he watched the pair of you twirl around and smile at one another. 

Usually, it was frustrating to watch you dance with other people because you were never like that with him. But this well and truly hurt. It hurt to see you like this when he knew, now for a fact, that he could never have that with you again. 

“I need to leave,” he repeated. He couldn’t bear to watch you do this all night.

Snatching another glass of champagne and downing that one, too, he bid his goodbyes to Penelope and Eloise and made his way across the ballroom to the exit.

“Are you leaving already, darling? You’ve barely been here an hour,” Colin heard next to him as a hand reached out for his elbow. 

Turning around, he faced his mother, who looked like she was in the middle of a conversation with Anthony and Benedict. 

Colin nodded. “I’m sorry, mother. I just can’t. I can’t stay,” he responded, voice breaking as he glanced back toward you again. 

Seeing you lean to whisper something in your suitor’s ear, he slumped forward, practically feeling physical pain at the sight. 

“I must go,” Colin said firmly, giving his mother a quick squeeze and rushing to the door. 

Violet nodded, bewildered, and followed where Colin’s gaze had been. Finding you dancing with Lord Norcliffe, Violet sent a knowing look to Benedict and Anthony. 

“I suppose Hyacinth was right,” she said sympathetically.

“And don’t you dare tell her! It’ll get to her head,” responded Benedict. 

---

“The Bridgertons will be in attendance tonight,” your mother informed you carefully as you sat in the carriage on the way to yet another ball. 

“And by the Bridgertons you mean…”

“She means Colin, yes,” answered Jacques, earning a stifled laugh from his wife, Chiara. 

Ever since they’d been back and learned of your intense hatred for Colin, Jacques had not been able to stop making a mockery of it. Usually, you were quite agreeable, and it was rare that you found yourself at odds with someone who wasn’t your sibling, so this seemingly unprompted hatred was quite amusing to your brother. 

You groaned and glared at him. “No one asked you to come tonight, you know. In fact, no one asked you to come to England at all! You could have stayed in Tuscany, and I would have been much happier.”

“Ah, but then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to tease you about this,” answered Jacques, completely unbothered by your biting tone. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled in response, only slightly comforted by Chiara’s apologetic smile as she softly scolded her husband.

It had been four days since your run-in with Nigel, and three since you saw Colin at Daphne’s ball, and the thought of seeing him again made you feel sick. It was already bad enough that he was disgusting and had no respect for you, but it was made infinitely worse by the fact that you had let yourself grow to care for him. In a friendly way, of course. You could never have married him, anyway. But it was still embarrassing that you fell into his charming trap and thought that you could become something more than a conquest for him.

“Be nice,” your mother whispered in warning as you approached the Bridgertons. 

You shrugged her off, not needing a reminder. You had been brought up to be the perfect lady. You weren’t about to forget yourself now. You refused to give Colin that power. 

You greeted the family warmly until you got to Colin. “Mr. Bridgerton,” you said, giving him a curt nod.

Not waiting for a response, you moved to stand away from him as you looked out at the crowd. Perhaps you would find a gentleman who was actually enjoyable to talk to, though your chances seemed slim. 

Colin shifted uncomfortably on his feet, watching you intently. It seemed that your behavior at Daphne’s ball hadn’t been a fluke, after all. He ground his teeth in annoyance, growing increasingly irritated by the fact that you were just standing there.

Why weren’t you doing anything? It was infuriating. Perhaps it would have been less infuriating if it were anyone else, but it seemed like anything you did was particularly vexing to him.

Making his way over to you, he stopped beside you. Wanting to slip back into the comfort of your tumultuous dynamic, Colin took a shot at your attire. “I see the modiste-”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice shaking, barely above a whisper, and your gaze locked ahead of you. 

Colin was taken aback. You had never, in all the time that he had known you, backed down from an argument. It seemed that you just… didn’t want him around at all. You hated him enough that you didn’t want to be near him. And in any way that mattered, it was worse than when you were antagonizing him.

“I’m sorry,” Colin said desperately. “I didn’t mean- Look, can we please talk? Just quickly, I just want-”

But you didn’t even let him finish. “There’s nothing to say.”

Colin scoffed, a futile attempt to hide how hurt he was really feeling. “What do you mean there isn’t anything to say? I have things to say, at least. Just talk to me.”

You finally turned to face him, feeling your stomach drop as you looked at his desperate eyes searching yours for an answer. 

“Let me rephrase. I do not wish to speak with you, in any capacity, now or any time in the future. I do not care to hear what you have to say, Mr. Bridgerton, and I would appreciate it if you could respect that, though I know that’s not usually in your nature.”

Colin could only sputter, staring at you in disbelief as you walked away. He felt his stomach turn uncomfortably as you reached a man he didn’t know, but whom you’d danced with at Daphne’s Ball. 

He had to have done something wrong. Colin hadn’t the slightest clue what, but you obviously had something against him, and it clearly wasn’t just you being silly. 

He swore under his breath. You were impossible. Not even Eloise knew why you hated him! How on earth was he supposed to know how to fix this when you refused to speak with him? It was almost easier when all you did was hurl insults at him and step on his feet as he poured lemonade down your dress.

Over on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Colin, mentally scolding yourself every time you did. This was not how you were supposed to be acting toward the man who had jumped at the first opportunity to compromise you.

The only reason you were dancing with Lord Norcliffe now was because he had not arrived in London until after your whole debacle with Lord Barlow. You supposed he could have heard what happened from someone else, but he was safer than the rest of the men of the ton, you thought grimly. It would’ve helped if he was interesting to talk to, or even nice to look at, but you supposed you couldn’t be very selective.

Curtsying and thanking Lord Norcliffe for the dance, you made a beeline toward Carlos and Philippe across the room. 

“You look like you don’t want to be here,” commented your brother, amused. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Astute observation, Philippe.”

Carlos laughed and gave you a comforting pat on the head. “But what happened to your season in England? I thought you were excited to be here?”

“My mother and father were certainly excited,” you mused, taking Philippe’s lemonade and drinking from it. 

Seeing their confused looks, you briefly explained your encounter with Nigel Berbrooke, and they suddenly became very concerned. 

“Ce connard! Il est où? Je vai le tuer,” growled Philippe under his breath, not wanting the rest of the ton to hear his threat (That asshole! Where is he? I’m going to kill him).

“Philippe, it’s alright,” you assured him, glancing over at Carlos and seeing that he, too, had understood your brother’s words despite not speaking French. “I believe Simon Basset took care of him at White’s a few days ago.”

“That’s just as well, or I’d have done it myself,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You can just come to Spain next year, cariño,” Carlos said warmly.

You smiled up at your brother-in-law, silently thanking him for the offer even though you knew your parents would never allow it. 

Colin watched enviously as you had a conversation with your older brother and your older sister’s husband. He wished he could talk to you again. Even if nothing got resolved between you, he liked to hear your voice. He loved how stubborn you were and how frustrated you got when you forgot the English word for something. He just missed you, he supposed. 

Which is why, as Colin watched yet another man approach you and write their name on your dance card, he decided he couldn’t do this anymore. The watching, the waiting, the wanting. He couldn’t do any of it anymore. 

“I need to leave,” he said firmly.

Daphne, who had been standing beside him, turned to face him, startled. “Leave where?”

“India, Egypt, Morocco, back to Greece. I don’t care. I just need to get out of here.”

“What? Why?” asked Daphne, still confused. 

“You know why,” Colin responded flatly, giving her an unimpressed look. 

Daphne instinctively turned to look at you, laughing as the man you were dancing with whispered something to you. She turned to look back at her brother with a disappointed look.

“I can’t imagine leaving would be the best option.” 

“Why not?” Colin shot back. “What good can my presence possibly do?”

Daphne put a hand on her brother’s elbow, giving him a sympathetic look. However, her voice was firm. “You always leave when it gets hard, you know? You’re always the first out the door and onto a different continent. Why are you so scared of staying?”

Colin was stunned. He didn’t know his motives were that obvious. But he supposed it made sense for Daphne to know since she knew him better than most people.  

“I’m not scared of staying,” Colin insisted defensively. “I just think it’ll be better for everyone if I go.”

Daphne furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “And do what? What could you possibly be doing that is so important that you would abandon the woman you love?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Colin argued, his voice growing strained as he felt his chest getting tighter. “None of it matters. She doesn’t love me back. I could be down the street or in Brazil and she wouldn’t even notice. She clearly hates me and wants nothing to do with me, so why should I stay?”

Daphne crossed her arms, looking more than a little disappointed. “Well, I won’t be the one to stop you if you decide to go. But really think about whether you want to be the person who leaves time and again. Things could change. It's only been a few days since she's been like this.”

She had a point, but Colin was too upset to admit it. Daphne was right. He couldn’t just leave now. If anything, it would hurt him more than being near you with you not speaking to him. It was the strangest feeling, knowing you loved someone but feeling powerless to do anything about it. 

Colin knew he couldn’t continue like this. Perhaps he couldn’t leave, but he could certainly stay as far away as possible. 

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[residentrookie]

Hmmm thoughts on Mathematics?

boooooooo math booooo 🍅🍅🍅

#fun fact i haven't sat down to do a math probelm since i was a senior in high school #which now means if you put a sixth grade long division problem in front of me i would not be able to complete it <3 #but also ugh #math was one of the few subjects i had to like work my ass off to get a decent grade in #and i will begrudgingly admit that when you know what you're doing... it is maybe sort of a bit fun #but there is no terror like sitting down for a math test and not knowing how to approach a single problem like at least you can bs an essay #what are your thoughts on math arik now i'm curious

[steddiealltheway]

Happy Halloween everyone!! Here is some type of no upside down AU fic :)

Eddie drums his hands on the cafeteria table and looks around at his friends. "Alright gentlemen, what are we doing for Halloween?"

He instantly gets a sense that something is off when Jeff and Gareth exchange a guilty look. Eddie leans forward and props his chin up on his hand. "Want to share with the class?"

Gareth sighs and looks at the table for a moment before bursting out, "Well, my sister and Jeff's brother really wanted to go out trick-or-treating this year, and you know how they've gotten close. And the deal was that either Jeff and I would stay at our houses manning the candy bowl, or we would go out with the kids."

Eddie huffs out, "And let me guess, you chose free candy, torturous walking, and a cutesy group costume."

Jeff smiles guiltily. "You're looking at Shaggy and Scooby-Doo."

"Adorable," Eddie says with a big fake smile before turning to Frank. "You're not leaving me high and dry though, isn't that right, Frank?"

Only, Frank seems to be just as guilty-looking as the others.

"Frank... Don't do this to me, man," Eddie pleads.

Frank sighs, "I told my mom I would do a Halloween horror movie night with her. Sorry, Eddie."

Eddie looks between all his friends, wondering if they're pulling a prank on him and fulfilling the trick part of trick-or-treat. But he slowly realizes that they're not. "Shit," he whispers, "I guess I needed to book you guys early," Eddie jokes, trying not to feel too let down.

Jeff pats his hand and says, "Hey, you can come with us. We need a bad guy in a mask."

Eddie scrunches up his nose. "Willingly walking miles and dealing with kids on an endless sugar high? No thanks. But... I appreciate the thought." He sits back and picks up a few of his pretzels before dropping them back in the bag. What is he going to do? He has always loved Halloween, his friends know this. But what's the point in celebrating if he's alone?

"You could go to Harrington's infamous ball," Frank suggests. Gareth and Jeff immediately start laughing loudly. Eddie just glares at Frank, but he doesn't seem to be joking as he defends himself, "I'm not kidding! Come on, free beer and witnessing a bunch of shit drama."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, because I would be so welcomed there."

"It's not like people will really notice. I hear his place is jam-packed with random people every year. Plus, you could wear your bat masquerade mask," Jeff interjects.

Eddie sighs and puts his head in his hands. "You're not seriously trying to convince me to go, right?"

"I mean... we're not not trying to convince you," Gareth supplies unhelpfully. There's an oof sound that Eddie's sure is the result of Jeff elbowing him in the side. "But seriously, you can wear the mask so no one will recognize you and your slutty vampire outfit-"

"It's not slutty."

"It has a tight leather lace-up vest, it's a little slutty," Jeff stage whispers to Eddie.

Eddie groans and dramatically thuds his head down on the table before quickly looking up. "Let me get this right. You want me to go to Steve Harrington's Halloween party in a mask as a Cinderella-type vampire because you guys are ditching me?"

"Precisely. Except the part where we ditched you because we clearly invited you-"

"Okay! Okay!" Eddie cuts Jeff off waving his hands.

"And hey, we all know that you would love to get some one-on-one time with Harrington, and what's a better time to do this than undercover?" Jeff asks.

Eddie dramatically shushes him and whispers, "I told you guys that secret while entirely way too high, you cannot hold that information against me right now."

"He's right," Frank says, "You can finally find out if Harrington truly isn't an asshole."

"And see if he has the hots for you while you're wearing your-"

"I swear, Gareth, if you call the costume slutty again..."

"Okay, but are you wearing it with your leather pants?" Jeff asks, eyebrows raised.

Eddie sighs and looks down at his lunchbox. "Maybe," he begrudgingly admits.

"Slutty!" Frank loudly says, and Gareth and Jeff immediately burst out laughing.

Eddie covers his face in his hands before joining in on their laughter. "Maybe it's a little slutty," he admits.

As the boys celebrate their win, Eddie feels someone staring over at him. He glances toward Harrington's table where he's sitting next to his ex and her new boyfriend and finds him staring directly at him. Eddie's heart beats a little harder when Steve slightly smiles at him before redirecting his attention to Jonathan.

"Jesus Christ, he looked at me again," Eddie mutters.

"Dude, you always say this, but we never see him do it," Frank groans.

"Yeah, because you don't obsessively check out his table," Gareth says with a laugh before he suddenly frowns and turns to Eddie. "No offense."

"None taken," Eddie replies as he chews on his bottom lip, thinking deeply. If he goes to the party, he can finally confront his crush on the guy he's never truly interacted with unless you count all the times they catch each other's eye then... they would be interacting somewhat often.

He can also finally figure out if it's all in his head or not.

"Okay. I'm going to the Harrington party," Eddie announces.

"Seriously?" Jeff asks incredulously.

"You guys are just so convincing," Eddie says with his hands over his heart.

"Bullshit," Frank says, "You're just going for a chance to maybe say two words to him."

Eddie crosses his arms and asks, "And what would those two words be?"

"'Slutty vampire' in response to 'What are you dressed as?'" Jeff quickly jokes, earning a shriek of laughter from Gareth and Frank.

Eddie thanks whatever entity is responsible for making the bell ring to announce lunch is over. "I need new friends," Eddie lies as he gathers his stuff up.

As Gareth and Frank rush off, Jeff lays a hand on Eddie's arm and says, "Hey, we can do a Halloween slasher night if you want to this weekend. Also, don't hesitate to call if you need help getting ready or need a second pair of eyes to make sure Harrington will approve."

Eddie gives him a genuine small smile and squeezes his shoulder, "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it," Jeff says as he walks off with a bright smile.

As Eddie watches him walk away, he catches Harrington staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but as soon as he glances over, he looks away looking... angry? Eddie just sighs and shakes his head. He needs to stop thinking that Harrington in any way has thoughts dedicated to him.

Maybe this party will be good for Eddie.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie stares at his reflection in the mirror and twists and turns. Maybe the leather is slutty, but he thinks the plain black cape does well to soften the look a bit. He stares at his hair and all the glossy individually finger-curled strands making his hair look a little more tame than usual. But hell, his arms and fingers ache. He just hopes it's all worth it.

He puts on the bat mask and frowns before taking it off and digging around for his eyeliner pencil he knows he has somewhere in the bathroom. He quickly finds it in a random basket and applies it before smudging it a bit. He puts the mask back on and smiles. He likes the way it has an elegant almost lace-looking quality to the plastic that offsets the leather of his costume.

He wishes he could call Jeff for a final look, but he doesn't want to take any precious time away from him and his brother although they're probably done trick-or-treating by now. Plus, he knows that Jeff would tell him that he looks great and not to overthink it. So, that's exactly what he's going to do.

He grabs the bright orange flyer he found on the floor at school for the Harrington Halloween House Party and cringes at the alliteration. He's pretty sure it's been the same thing for the past three years though, so it's not like Harrington has an option of changing it.

Gosh, he needs to stop stalling and finally leave for the party. He glances at his watch and sees that it's almost eleven, so people should be finally arriving an hour fashionably late. Better to be a part of that crowd to not draw much attention.

He drives over quickly, parking a little down the road when he starts seeing other cars, not wanting to get stuck if he wants to leave early. He takes a deep breath before glancing in the mirror again. He's not recognizable... right? Right.

He gets out of his van and quickly starts walking toward the intimidatingly large house. He's glad to find a group of people rushing inside and even more people outside on the front lawn who aren't sparing him a second glance. Usually, he would come to one of these things with his infamous lunchbox and upsell his stash, but he knew it would give him away tonight. Plus, it's nice to not be on edge the whole time, wondering who is approaching him for drugs and who is approaching him with a slur.

As he makes his way inside, he grimaces at the loud pop music people are wildly dancing to and the smell of alcohol that permeates the house. It's only a few minutes before someone is shoving a cup of mysteriously bright red liquid in Eddie's hand. He takes a tentative sip and shrugs. It's not horrible especially since Eddie likes terribly sweet things, but he definitely isn't going to waste time getting a second cup.

He's on a mission. And his mission is to find Steve and hope that he's not somewhere with his tongue down some random girl's throat. Eddie tries to shove away the thoughts telling him that he shouldn't expect Steve Harrington to not be doing exactly that at his party. Plus, why would he spare time to talk to Eddie of all people?

Eddie takes another sip of his drink and makes his way through the crowd, not finding a single glimpse of that Harrington mane that's usually easy to spot. He goes outside the backdoor and frowns at all the people making out in the pool before heading back inside.

He glances around a few more times before settling back in a corner, downing the rest of his drink before giving up on his search and settling on people watching. But god it’s boring.

These people are boring.

It’s just the same situation over and over again. A couple getting uncomfortably handsy with each other, or a guy and girl eyeing each other up across the room as their friends hype them up in a way that’s either grotesque or filled with squeals.

And the room is hot. So unbearably hot that his leather pants are starting to cling to Eddie in an uncomfortable way that makes him want to rip them off.

Instead, he settles on climbing the stairs and going to find whatever bathroom he can to splash some cold water in his face and hopefully get a moment to himself.

He looks at all the closed doors, pressing his ear against them before quickly backing away whenever he hears something gross. But then his ear settles on one door and there’s the distinct sound of nothing on the other side that puts him at ease.

He twists the knob and walks into the room, freezing when he realizes that, one, this is not a bathroom, and, two, someone with Steve Harrington's distinctive hair swoop is sitting in the room.

The man turns and makes eye contact with Eddie who instantly dies a little inside as he realizes it is Steve. "Sorry. I didn't mean to barge in."

Steve gives him a small smile and says, "I don't mind."

Eddie doesn't know what to do other than hover in the doorway of the dark room. Steve continues to stare at him and eventually asks, "Want to join me?"

Yes. Hell yes, he does. But also, Eddie has the distinct feeling that this either has to be a dream or a prank. But he still nods.

"Do you mind locking the door behind you? I just... don't want anyone trying to use this room as a place to hook up or something."

Now this definitely sets off a few alarms in Eddie's head, but there's a weird air of sadness surrounding Steve that makes it seem... genuine. So Eddie closes the door and locks it behind him, slowly making his way over to Steve. As he gets closer, some of the light trailing in through his blinds catches on the glittering crown that he's holding in his hands.

Eddie gestures toward it. "King Steve?"

Steve smiles sadly and looks down at the crown. "Something like that."

Eddie carefully sits next to Steve, trying to keep a respectable distance between them on the bed. His eyes trace over Steve's costume, a clearly expensive, gorgeous prince or king costume. "So, what are you supposed to be?"

"Prince Charming," Steve answers easily. He glances over at Eddie and shrugs. "Nancy thought that it would be funny because of my 'Harrington charm' mixed with King Steve, but I don't know. I kind of hate that nickname." He shakes his head and changes the subject. "What are you supposed to be?"

"Slutty vampire," Eddie says almost automatically, startling a laugh out of Steve as Eddie curses under his breath and puts his hands over his face. As his fingers press into the mask on his face, he's startled by the realization that Steve doesn't know who he is. "Sorry, my friends kept saying that, and I insisted it wasn't what I was going for. But they won that argument in the end I guess." God, he can't believe he actually said that.

"You look maybe a little slutty but in a good way," Steve rushes to say the last part. He runs a hand through his hair, getting a bit flustered. "I mean you look nice."

"So do you," Eddie admits honestly.

Steve holds his hand out to him. "Steve."

Eddie takes his hand and says, "Cinderella."

Steve laughs again. "Really?"

"I got the mask and everything," Eddie explains, not yet wanting to ruin things when Steve finds out who he really is.

"Cinderella then," Steve says with a smile that makes Eddie feel a little weak in the knees. Thank god he's sitting down.

"So, what are you doing in here in the dark all by yourself, Prince Charming?"

"I'm not by myself, I'm with you," Steve easily deflects.

Eddie raises his eyebrows although he's pretty sure the mask partially covers them.

Steve looks down at the crown again and raises it up. "I just wanted to not be this for a little bit tonight. Plus, the music was giving me a headache - too many concussions." He pauses before turning to Eddie. "And what were you doing escaping from things?"

"Looking for some quiet," Eddie says and looks down at his unnaturally bare hands. He wishes he would've kept on his rings so he could fidget with them. "I was thinking about leaving, but I wanted to stay in case I found you."

Steve shifts a little on the bed, moving to face him. "And now that you've found me?"

Eddie glances up at him and considers it for a moment. "I hadn't really thought that far."

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "Well, I hope I'm not too disappointing."

"Not at all," Eddie insists, "Actually I thought you'd be-"

"An asshole?" Steve interjects quickly, his expression becoming oddly stoic.

Eddie shakes his head. "Preoccupied with someone else. Anyone other than me really."

Steve face softens and he leans in closer, eyes tracing over Eddie's face as if trying to figure out what's under the mask covering most of the upper half of his face. "You know you can tell me your real name, right?"

Eddie swallows and shakes his head. "Maybe I'll just leave a clue behind or something. Not my shoe though. I always hated that plot line."

Steve smiles brightly. "If it fit perfectly then why did it fall off?"

"Exactly!" Eddie says clapping his hands together excitedly. "Plus, with all that dancing, I just know that shoe did not smell good."

Steve throws his head back and laughs, and Eddie just watches him, filled with pride at being able to pull that reaction out of him. As his laughter dies down, Steve glances back down at the crown.

"You should put it on," Eddie blurts out. Steve looks up at him with his eyebrows raised. "I want to see the whole costume."

Steve reluctantly places the crown on his head and glances toward Eddie. It's strange, how it fits him so perfectly at first glance, but he can see how it personally affects Steve, as if it adds a weight to his entire demeanor.

"You look good, but I think I prefer you without," Eddie admits.

Steve quickly takes it off his head and places it behind him. "Yeah, that's because it messes up my best feature."

"That's strange, I didn't see it mess with your eyes, or your smile, or your nose, or your-"

Eddie's suddenly cut off when Steve leans in and kisses him. He just as quickly pulls away and says, "Sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've asked before I just-"

"Steve," Eddie says, laying a hand over Steve's.

Steve looks up at him nervously.

"Please do that again," Eddie says.

Steve sighs in relief and instantly closes the distance between them again, but Eddie is able to prepare for it, properly cupping his face and kissing him back. He feels like he's in a dream again as Steve deepens the kiss and runs his hands through the curls Eddie took so long to perfect. But he doesn't care at all.

There's a sudden loud ringing of a grandfather clock that pierces through the house causing the two of them to jump apart. "Jesus, I forgot that I told them they could play that creepy recording at midnight," Steve says and freezes. "Wait, it's midnight."

"And?"

"You're Cinderella."

Eddie tries to swallow down the pain of once again realizing that to Steve, he's just some random guy that he doesn't know. But Eddie smiles and says, "Well, lucky for you, the magic doesn't run out until one or two in the morning."

Steve smiles back and says, "Lucky me." But instead of kissing Eddie, he surprises him by asking, "Tell me something about yourself."

Eddie shrugs, trying to think of something that won't give him away. "I play the guitar."

"Oh, is that why you wear the..." Steve trails off, eyes flickering down to his neck before looking away. "Forget I said that. I thought I saw something."

Eddie's brows furrow, but he doesn't press him on it. "What about you? Tell me something most people don't know."

Steve thinks for a moment before smiling. "I almost didn't show up to this tonight. I was going to go trick-or-treating with some of the kids I sort of babysit. But Dustin told me they didn't need a babysitter tonight, so I ended up here."

The story twists at Eddie's heart a bit. Even with his disillusioned crush on Steve, he would've never guessed there was a group of kids he cared for so much.

Eddie reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Steve's. "I'm sure they miss you."

"I don't know. They were going in custom-made costumes for these characters they play as in D and D or something. They seemed really excited about it, so they've probably forgotten about me by now."

Eddie swallows down the entire spiel he wants to make about Hellfire Club and asking who the kids are so he might be able to recruit them and instead says, "Well, you're pretty unforgettable."

Steve smiles and opens his mouth to respond when there's a sudden loud knock on the door. Steve frowns and loudly says, "Occupied!"

A voice on the other side of the door loudly says, "I think your neighbors down the way ratted us out! Someone said the police are on their way."

"Shit," Steve mutters and runs his hands over his face. "I'll be right there! Just get rid of all the alcohol you can find and turn off the music. Party is over." He stands up and turns to Eddie offering his hand which Eddie takes.

They both stand up and Eddie realizes he's never stood directly next to him and is surprised that they seem to be the same height. God, it's so nice to be at eye level with him.

"I guess this is goodbye, Cinderella," Steve says sadly and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. "Will you leave me with at least a kiss?"

"You're too charming to say no to," Eddie jokes before he leans in and kisses Steve again, lingering in the kiss for as long as he can before they both pull away as there's another loud knock on the door.

Steve squeezes Eddie's shoulder one last time and says, "I promise to find you." He rushes out the door quickly after and Eddie is left standing in Steve's room alone. He takes a deep breath before he leaves slowly, distancing the time they were seen with each other.

Luckily, things are in a bit of a frenzy as he leaves so he doubts anyone noticed him slipping out of the same room as Steve. But on his drive home, Eddie realizes he gave Steve absolutely nothing to identify him with. He curses and debates turning back until he sees Hopper's police car pass him.

Steve's never going to find him.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The entire weekend, Eddie's friends have the pleasure of hearing him share the story over and over again while simultaneously complaining about not leaving something equivalent to a shoe behind.

"Well, it sounds like you at least left him with a lot of your saliva," Gareth says one time, and Eddie has to get Jeff to hold him back.

Monday morning is the worst when he realizes he has to see Steve and pretend like nothing happened. Because there's no way he's going to tell Steve that he's Cinderella and expect him to not punch him in the face.

Okay, Steve doesn't seem the type to do that, but there's no way he would be excited to hear that Eddie's the guy he swapped spit with - god, he really needs to get Gareth's words out of his head. But Eddie thinks he'll be able to deal with Steve never knowing than Steve rejecting him.

He sees Steve here and there in the hall but is luckily able to divert his path so Steve never directly sees him. Unfortunately, Eddie knows Steve will be at the same table as always at lunch which is right in his line of sight.

When he sits down, his friends are already nudging him and cracking jokes about Prince Charming and whatnot that pisses Eddie off. It makes things worse when he sees Steve sitting with his back to him, which he's never done before. At one point, Eddie just snaps, gets up, and leaves the cafeteria saying he needs a minute. He rushes off to his locker, digging around for his spare pack of cigarettes when he hears a pair of footsteps to his left.

He sighs and closes the locker door, expecting to see a teacher who has followed him, expecting him to do something suspicious. Instead, he gets the shock of his life when he sees Steve walking right up to him.

As Steve approaches, Eddie dumbly says, "Are you looking to buy something?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "No, I'm not, Cinderella."

Eddie's eyes widen. There's no way...

"Did you really think I didn't know who you were?" Steve asks, and Eddie can't get a read on him, but he seems... upset.

"I'm sorry?"

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair again. “Eddie, I know it was you, and I want to know why you've been avoiding me all day. Like did it really mean nothing to you? Is that why you didn't tell me your name?"

Eddie's head spins a little too fast at the revelation, so he clarifies, "Wait, you knew it was me the whole time?"

"Yes. I thought you were just really pretending to be in character or something, but today you were icing me out. And I know we haven't really talked before Friday night, but I thought I was clear about wanting to change that."

"Then why did you face with your back toward me in the cafeteria?" Eddie blurts out without thinking.

"There was something on my chair," Steve answers easily.

"Oh." Okay, maybe Eddie is an idiot but, "Wait, you really knew who I was and still, "he lowers his voice and leans in, "...kissed me?"

A look of realization crosses over Steve's face before he smiles. "Eddie, I've been staring at you for weeks now, and I just hadn't gotten the courage to talk to you yet. You're pretty intimidating."

"Me? I'm intimidating? You're literally called 'King Steve.'" Steve frowns at the title, but Eddie continues, "I never thought I had a shot with you without the mask on - or even with the mask on. I was avoiding you today because I didn't want you to realize it was me and reject me."

"I thought you called yourself Cinderella because I was dressed as Prince Charming," Steve laughs.

"I didn't even realize that was Cinderella's prince!" Eddie nearly shrieks, laughing loudly along with Steve. "We're a disaster," he says through his laughter.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to kill his laughter a little to say, "I think we should start over a little and go on a date. This time without fake names and the police showing up."

"No promises about the second one," Eddie says with a big smile.

Steve smiles and looks at him as if waiting for something.

"What?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs anxiously. "Is that a yes to the date?"

"Oh! Christ. Yes! Yes, it is. Sorry," Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face, noting the way his hands don't catch on a mask this time. Steve Harrington is fine with him being Cinderella - more than fine with it really. He narrows his eyes at Steve. "And this isn't a trick?"

"I thought it would be more of a treat," Steve jokes.

Eddie rolls his eyes and simultaneously laughs at the horrible pun. "Did you know that you're really charming?"

Another laugh is startled out of Steve who quickly tries to hide it. He looks down at the ground and says, "I'm having a hard time thinking of a joke about a slutty vampire."

Eddie groans, "Don't remind me."

"I wouldn't mind if you reminded me," Steve flirts.

"Christ," Eddie says, feeling a blush quickly rise on his cheeks.

The bell for lunch rings again, and this time Eddie wants to curse the entity responsible for it.

"I'll slip you my number later so you can call me later, Cinderella" Steve announces, walking back to the cafeteria where he left his stuff.

"I'm charmed," Eddie replies with a wink that has Steve getting slightly flustered.

As he rounds the corner and gets out of sight, Eddie can't help but think about how Steve really kept his promise about finding him. He also can't wait to have proof that all his friends were wrong, except maybe he was a little bit of a slutty vampire... But it definitely paid off.

And it definitely was a very happy Halloween.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #happy halloween

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend

Lucy Bronze x Teen!Reader

Ona Batlle x Bronze!Reader

Summary: You adjust to your Mum's new girlfriend

Lucy rolls over in her sleep, blinking awake slowly.

She jerks away when she comes face to face with you.

"It's two in the morning!" She whisper-yells," How did you get in here?!"

"Are you sleeping with Ona Battle?"

"What?!"

You roll over onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. "Well...you're not sleeping with Keira anymore."

Lucy groans, wiping a hand over her face. She'd recently given you the sex talk (you had just turned thirteen and she'd decided it was time) and was now regretting it.

"Did you really sneak in here to ask me that at...Two in the morning?!"

You ignore her question. "And everyone online is speculating about it. You drive her to training a lot. Are you sleeping with her?"

"This isn't a conversation we need to be having."

"How long have you been sleeping with her?" You ask," You were all cosy after the World Cup and she's been around her a few times. Are you sleeping with her?"

"Do you really need to know this?"

"I'd like to know if my mother's sleeping with someone regularly," You reply," Especially if that person comes around as often as Ona is."

"Go back to your room," Lucy orders," It's too early. I'm too tired. We'll talk later."

Only...she doesn't talk to you later and you grow more suspicious of Ona every time she comes to visit.

You're sitting at the kitchen table, answering questions on your mind-numbingly boring homework worksheet.

Mum and Ona are cuddled up together on the sofa before Mum gets up to get more popcorn, ruffling your hair as she passes you to get to the microwave.

Your eyes track her as she goes so you don't even notice Ona until she's standing in front of you.

She looks a little awkward as she smiles. "How is school?"

You don't quite know what to think of her since your revelation that she and your Mum were kind of sleeping together. So, you just offer her a blunt answer. "Fine."

She nods once, suddenly stumped at having to carry on the conversation.

You don't offer her any leeway and go back to your question, scrawling something randomly. You sweep your textbooks into your arms and whistle for Narla, retreating into your room.

"Why do you keep coming in here?!" Your mum demands that night when she wakes up to find you on the other side of her bed.

"If you and Ona are sleeping together," You say, ignoring her outrage," Does this mean we have to move? Or is she moving in with us? Keira used to live with us."

Mum rolls over and screams her annoyance into her pillow. "Do we really have to have these conversations when I'm trying to sleep?"

"Well, maybe, if you stopped avoiding them when you're awake then we wouldn't have to do them now."

She swats at you with her pillow. "Where is this coming from? Why, do you not like Ona?"

"Would it matter if I didn't?"

"You were all for Ona before you realised we were together."

"Because I thought you were making friends," You admit," Is she going to be here all the time?"

"Go back to bed," Mum says like every time you drift into a conversation she doesn't want to have with you," It's too early for this."

Mum gets sick a few weeks later and takes the day off training. Usually, this means you take the day off school because it's too far for you to walk and, with Mum ill, it means she can't drive either.

You've already begun to plan your day off (you got a new video game from Keira for your birthday and are ready to try it out) when the front door opens and Ona walks in.

You didn't even know she had a key.

"Hey," She says," Are you ready to go?"

You frown. "Where?"

"To school? Lucy called me to pick you up."

You send a wounded look over to your mother, who has made herself comfortable on the sofa and doesn't look to be moving for the foreseeable future.

She waves you away with her hand. "Off you go. Don't you have that test today?"

Begrudgingly, you change into your uniform, grab your bag and moodily follow Ona out to her car.

"So," She says, drumming her fingers against the wheel," Are you prepared for your test?"

"We don't need to make small talk," You say bluntly, staring out the window.

She's silent for a moment, no sound over the gentle hum of the car.

The light turns green and she takes a left turn instead of a right.

"You're going the wrong way," You say with an eye roll, slumping in your seat.

Ona fishes her phone out of her pocket and throws it at you. You glare at her but catch it, typing in the password she tells you to.

"Your school should already be saved," She says as she takes another turn, taking you further and further away from school," Dial them and put it on speaker."

Ona makes up an excuse that you're sick just as she pulls up in front of an arcade. She gets out and you stumble after her.

"I'm meant to be at school! You told Mum you'd take me to school!"

"Yes," Ona says," I did but I thought we could spend the day together."

You give her a look and cross your arms over your chest. "I have a test today."

"That you actually want to do?"

She's got you there but you refuse to give her satisfaction.

"I don't have money."

"I do."

You narrow your eyes at her and huff. "Fine! But I'm not going to be happy about this!" It's a complete lie. Mum doesn't like arcades. She says that they're stealing all your money so she rarely lets you go and it's even rarer that she gives you money for them.

You lose yourself in repetitive pinball and penny machines for hours, collecting tickets and taking great satisfaction in absolutely thrashing Ona at air hockey.

Your fun day almost makes it so you can forget your anger at her. Almost.

She gets you pizza and a drink and you find yourself sitting opposite her in a booth at the very back.

"You're not my mum," You tell her eventually," And I'm not calling you mum."

Ona beams at you and you hate that you find yourself smiling back. "I don't expect you to."

"And I reserve the right to have first dibs of Mum's bed," You continue.

It's an odd request but Ona takes it in her stride. "Okay."

You stare at her through narrowed eyes. "My test went fine," You say eventually," You dropped me off fifteen minutes early and waited around till I entered the building. You picked me up. We talked. We're civil. Cool with you?"

"Sounds good."

#woso x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[libraryofgage]

Steddie PJO AU Part One

One (1) person asked for this, and it was only after I told them I'd had an idea, so, like, fuck it we ball.

The parents of the various kids will be revealed as the series goes on, but I'll look forward to your guesses along the way!

Also, I haven't read the books in a hot fucking minute, but the trailer has had me in a chokehold. This is written more for fun than anything else, so just shut off your brain and enjoy the ride without thinking about accuracy. You'll love it, I promise!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

With a low, frustrated growl, Eddie tears a page out of his notebook, crumples it into a ball, and throws it on the floor of his tent. All he gets for his troubles is another page of lyrics underneath the first that fail to actually do what he wants. "Fucking shit prophecy," he mutters, tearing that page out, too.

It hits the ground right as Chrissy pokes her head into the tent. She watches it bounce once before settling on the ground. "How's the songwriting?" she jokes, letting the tent's flap fall shut behind her.

"Bad," Eddie says, dropping the notebook and standing. He glares at the paper balls and kicks one away. "Just as bad as the prophecy itself."

"Aww, it's not that bad," Chrissy says, walking a little closer and playfully punching Eddie's arm. Her smile is bright enough to make Eddie feel like he needs sunglasses, and that isn't even because Chrissy's father is Apollo. That's just all her. "At least your prophecy doesn't promise, you know, horrible death."

Eddie scoffs, turning to look at Chrissy as he gestures at his Def Leppard shirt and torn jeans and chunky rings and general metalhead vibe. "Do I look like someone who should be getting that prophecy?" he asks.

He doesn't wait for her to answer before scrunching his face and reciting in a high, mocking voice, "You shall witness an unfair fight between land and sky where feathers with great reluctance fly. And as the sun is shining bright, you shall be swaying in the moon's sweet light."

By the time he's done, he's clasped his hands and held them up to his face with an exaggerated doe-eyed expression. Eddie drops it the moment he finishes, his nose scrunching in disgust as he rolls his eyes. "I have a reputation to uphold, Chrissy."

She doesn't take his complaints seriously. Instead, Chrissy rolls her eyes and sits on the edge of Eddie's cot. "Sure, sure, you're too cool for anything good to happen to you. Still, you might be better off if you didn't try turning that prophecy into something angry."

Eddie huffs, kicks another paper ball, and drops to a crouch next to the cot. After a few seconds, he begrudgingly admits, "Yeah, maybe."

Chrissy sympathetically pats his head, her touch warm and light, and smiles at him. "In other news, we've got another retrieval request for you," she says.

"Oh, boy, work."

"C'mon, you enjoy them," Chrissy says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. "A cyclops sighted some demigod kids running around with, well, she wasn't sure if he was also a demigod or not. But they won't be safe long when they're clustered together like that, so, go bring 'em back."

She passes Eddie the piece of paper and watches as he unfolds it and frowns at the two words written there: "Athens, Tennessee."

"Are you kidding me? That's so cliche," Eddie says.

"Yeah, but at least it's not California or something."

"Thank fuck for small miracles," Eddie mutters, folding up the paper again and shoving it into his pocket.

Looks like he's got packing to do.

The sun is shining, birds are tweeting, and a cool wind is blowing across the park. Steve lets out a slow breath, his shoulders starting to relax as he leans against a tree and watches Will and Lucas lay out a few blankets, Mike and Dustin get into an argument about the scale proportions of the Parthenon, and Max, Erica, and El throw a frisbee between them.

It's been a long month, one that seemed to be filled with more running and near-death experiences than they're used to. And they're used to a lot of running and near-death experiences.

So, taking a day to just relax in the park sounded great when El suggested it, but Steve had still hesitated. Who knows what could find them if they linger in a park too long. When he voiced these concerns, the kids just banded together to convince Steve, and he relented when they compromised on him bringing the nail bat along.

"Steve, do you wanna lay down?" Lucas asks, gesturing to the blankets. Will is already there, stretched out and smiling up at a rainbow stretching across the sky.

Steve joins them, pulls a Bluetooth speaker out of one of the backpacks holding the blankets down, and connects his phone. Music starts playing, and he sprawls across a blanket, pillowing his head on his arms and taking in the sunshine. "You know, this is nice," he says.

"Yeah. We should do this more often," Will whispers, nearly drowned out by the grass rustling in the breeze.

Between the breeze and the music, Steve starts to drift off, his breathing evening out as his mind wanders. He's half asleep when he hears Dustin shout, "It's a fucking one-to-one asshole!"

His words are quickly followed by Mike shouting back, "Who gives a shit?!"

Steve sighs and adds his own voice to the mix. "Stop fighting!"

"Yeah, guys, stop fighting," Max says, and Steve can imagine her tongue sticking out at them as he hears Erica snort.

"Oh, fuck you," Dustin shoots back.

"That's it!" Steve announces, sitting up and glaring at the kids. "Get over here."

His voice leaves no room for argument, and he'd feel bad at how the kids deflate if he didn't already know they're all menaces. Once he's got all seven kids on the blankets, he sighs and says, "Look, guys, let's not fight. How about we all just sit here for a bit, enjoy the breeze, and then we'll go get lunch."

The kids glance at each other, a silent conversation that Steve barely follows passing between them before Mike nods. "Yeah, sure, I guess."

"Great, now, just re--"

"Oh, how cute!"

The sudden, saccharine voice sets Steve's entire body on edge. He slowly looks over his shoulder, staring at the middle-aged woman smiling down at them. Something about her is familiarly off, but he tries to give her the benefit of the doubt. So, Steve flashes a charming smile and asks, "Hi, can I help you with something?"

The woman's smile turns a little sharp, and she shakes her head. "Oh, no, I just had to commend you on your ability to round up these kids like that," she explains.

Steve hums and pushes himself up, keeping a hold on his bat so he can rest the end on the ground and lean on it. He feels more than sees the kids start to shift until they're behind him. "Well, thanks. Did you want advice or something on caring for your own kids?" he asks.

She laughs, short and grating on Steve's ears, and then tilts her head not unlike a bird. "No, no. It's just impressive that you've managed to keep them alive for so long," she says, her voice distorting and becoming shriller as she speaks.

Yep. There it is.

"Wow, that's even faster than usual," Lucas says.

He's right, which just makes Steve even more upset. Can he not get more than fifteen minutes of peace? Can he not just lay back and enjoy the sunshine without worrying about some monster coming after his kids? Can he not fucking relax for once?

Steve feels the frustration build and build in his chest, crackling through him until he's ready to burst, and he stands up straighter. "I'll give you one warning," he says, his voice low as he watches feathers sprout from the woman's skin. "You walk away right now, and I won't beat the shit out of you."

The woman, who seems to be mostly bird by now and is probably a harpy, just laughs again, like Steve's told her the funniest joke she's ever heard. "You? Defeat me?" she asks, her eyes roaming over Steve before she laughs again. "I am worse than your nightmares. I have eaten more demigods than you can count. I have feasted on their screams and crunched their bones between my teeth, and I look forward to doing the same with these children. What could a lone son of some lesser god possibly do to stop me?"

From behind him, Steve hears a few of the kids inhale sharply, an almost sympathetic sound. "Well, she's done it now," Erica says.

"Yes. Steve is going to kill her," El agrees, her voice soft and brushing against Steve's ears like a tiny snake.

And yeah, they're right. Maybe Steve would have just beaten her unconscious and then gotten the hell out of dodge, but now she's threatened his kids. She's lost any chance at mercy from him.

With a twirl of his bat and a vicious grin, Steve rolls his shoulders back and says, "Wanna find out, overgrown chicken?" he asks.

He doesn't even bother waiting for an answer before swinging his bat, the nails dragging across the harpy's chest and ripping a shriek from her. Now that Steve is thinking about it, violence is also a great way to relieve stress, and he's certainly not going to look a gift harpy in the mouth.

----

If you'd like to be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

#steddie #percy jackson au #semi-divine steddie #that's the tag for this series btw #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #the party #stranger things #stranger things fic #my writing

[starks-hero]

what a lovely inconvenience

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: Sherlock Holmes pushes your buttons like no one else. So when a case leaves you stranded in a hotel room with only one bed you worry that Scotland Yard might have a new murder case on their hands.

Word Count: 1.0k

authors note: Writing a different dynamic between Sherlock and the Reader for a change to acknowledge the fact that irl I wouldn't be able to spend more than ten minutes with him before attempting murder.

“Would you please just go to sleep.”

“If you quit taking up half of the bloody mattress maybe I would,” you bit back, pulling at the covers defiantly.

It wasn't often Sherlock left London for a case but when he did he rarely went alone. And given how you were currently sharing a bed with said detective in an oh-so-unflattering hotel in rural Scotland it would seem apparent that you were the unfortunate soul he'd chosen as a sidekick for this particular outing.

The hotel was dull, exceedingly so. The wallpaper seemed ancient, peeling away at the corners and the aged furniture was placed in such a way that it swallowed up the dismal amount of space the room already offered. The entire setup was worsened further by the hotel's location; unpleasantly sandwiched between a bar and a flat complex whose tenants were... vocal, to say the least.

Not to mention the fact that Sherlock wouldn't. stop. moving.

He pulled the cover back harshly, leaving you defenseless against the cold. “Bold words coming from the one that hasn't gifted me with so much as an inch of blanket. Not to mention you've hogged all the pillows.”

“Hogged all the–” you swiveled to face him. “How many pillows do you need?”

“Another one.”

You blinked twice, already calculating how long you'd spend behind bars if you resorted to murder. “Why? Can't fit your ego on the one you've already got?”

At that, Sherlock turned so you were face to face. His glower contended with your own.

“If you must know I need another to block out the sound of your insufferable talking.”

“I can't deal with this.” You tossed back the covers, begrudgingly snatching up a pillow and thin bed sheet, and strode across the room. Sherlock watched as you sprawled out on the sofa, sinking so far into the poorly made furniture it was almost comedic.

There was a beat of quiet. Then another.

“If you're waiting for me to apologize or rush to trade places you'll be waiting all night.”

"I'm sure I'll survive.” you quipped bitterly.

Sherlock, as he'd promised, didn't argue. He grabbed the spare pillow somewhat victoriously, bundled the covers around him, and turned on his side.

Meanwhile, you were already struggling not to admit defeat. Metal springs dug into your back in three separate places, the fabric caused your skin to itch and it was beyond freezing without the bed cover. You would never have described yourself as a particularly proud person, you could admit when you were wrong. But when it came to Sherlock, you'd rather stay on the couch.

Time crawled by agonizingly slow. The red italic numbers of the alarm clock across the room shone through the dark almost mockingly. You'd given up on sleep, the moment the first light of morning seeped through the poorly hung curtains you were out of there. You'd take sitting in the dingey hotel reception alone and tired over watching Sherlock waking up satisfied with his extra cushions and soft mattress as his spoils of war.

“You look ridiculously uncomfortable,” the detective's voice cut through the quiet of the room.

You pulled your excuse of a blanket over your head. “I'm fine.”

You heard Sherlock sigh, followed by the shifting of the mattress. “I can see you trembling from here.”

“I'm sure I'll soldier on through.”

“If it was a point you were trying to get across then consider it made. Now, will you please just get over here and get some sleep before the sun comes up.”

At the offer, you reemerged from your makeshift cocoon like an easily bribed butterfly. “Relax Holmes, if you wanted me in bed that bad you should have just said so.” You spoke the words into your pillow, slurred from exhaustion and dripping with sarcasm.

Regardless, Sherlock was thankful of how well the darkened room hid his blush. He cleared his throat and turned back on his side. He'd been doing an admirable job at keeping whatever it was he felt about you to himself and he wasn't about to undergo the embarrassment of having you find out simply because he spent more than twelve hours in your vicinity.

Briefly noting to never be the bigger person again, Sherlock closed his eyes and prepared to leave you to your self-inflicted misery. Then he heard feet padding across the floor.

The covers pulled back and the mattress dipped as you silently joined him. You stretched out and sighed in relief when the mattress pressed softly against your aching muscles rather than biting into your back. You pulled experimentally at the covers and Sherlock let you gain an inch. But only that.

“Was that so hard?” He asked.

“Extremely.”

Turning over as quietly as he could, Sherlock noted how your back was to him, how the plane of spare mattress between you was so wide you could easily fit another couple there. How you almost hung from the side of the bed. Sherlock wouldn't have called what he felt in that moment guilt, but it was very similar.

“You know, if it truly makes you uncomfortable I can sleep on the sofa for the night.” His offer was genuine and he hoped you picked up on it.

There was a long moment of quiet, Sherlock giving in to the fact that you'd probably fallen into sleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

“I was kidding, you know.” Your voice came as a surprise. “It's more of a hindrance than anything, sharing a bed with someone that kicks in their sleep."

Sherlock smiled in the dark. “Not as much a hindrance as sharing one with a degenerate blanket stealer.”

There was an unfamiliar tone to his voice, one that, had you not been two blinks from sleep, you would have mistaken for humourous.

“You know, you're kind of endearing when you're sleep deprived,” you thought, too tired to have realized you'd said the words aloud.

“Funny,” Sherlock watched as you turned on your side and rolled towards the middle of the bed. Your nose twitched adorably and with the security the dark offered, Sherlock let himself smile over it. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

He was certain you were gone now, chest falling rhythmically and lips parting to make way for quiet snores. He didn't blame you, your alarm had woken you early this morning.

You didn't know he'd noticed, of course, just as you didn't know how he noticed many little things about you. Not things of importance, nothing essential he would have to file away in his mind palace. Just simple everyday things that were unmistakably you. Things he recalled not because he needed to but because he wanted to.

There was something about you, Sherlock simply couldn't shake it. But that was a dilemma he needed at least a good night's rest to solve.

He closed his eyes, not so much as complaining when you stole the covers in your sleep.

thank you for reading!

Sherlock tag list: @miraclesoflove @ilovefanfictions @mylovelysnowflake @quentawewe @bakerstreethound @andreasworlsboring101 @doozywoozy @xxinvisiblexx @the-worst-critic @the-queer-dungeoneer @jellyfishbeansontoast @starrykitn @starryeddie @ladymercury8 @themorningsunshine @evelynrosestuff @mywellspringoflife @simp-for-scammanders @Xhz17x @allieberries @kealohilani-tepise

#*gasps* there was only one bed #clichè but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ #also two fics in one night? who do I think I am? #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #bbc sherlock imagine #sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes x you #bbc sherlock

[zepskies]

So, how would Ben react if he and the reader went clothes-shopping for him and he overhears the saleswomen talking to themselves about how insanely hot he was (and how they’d climb him like a tree, because hello!) While he’s flattered, he sees the reader overhearing them, and she’s visibly annoyed/upset by it? Up to you if she calls them out on it, or spirals and says nothing, or whatever!

Ooooh thank you for this request, my friend!! ❤️❤️

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Warnings: 18+ only! A little smutty towards the end. 😘

Imagine: Getting jealous over this man. 💚

"My clothes are fine," Ben is still insisting, even as you hold up a crisp, black buttoned-down shirt up to his chest in scrutiny.

"You need more stuff in this decade, baby," you tell him. You just think he's taking issue with you picking things out for him.

He doesn't often like to relinquish control, but he's tacitly agreed that you just have a better sense of what's fashionable now. He doesn't mind standing out, but he doesn't want to look out of place either.

And as much as he'd never admit it, he wants to look good.

So you and Ben have been at the mall browsing for the past hour. Express for Men has some interesting finds; you already have a large pile of shirts, jackets, pants, and jeans set aside for him to try on.

Ben has strong opinions, especially on pants. He blatantly refuses skinny jeans, for which you begrudgingly concede. You have to pick your battles with your boyfriend, and this one's not the hill to die on, you think.

So you put down the tight pants in favor of some tasteful dark wash jeans. He eyes this pair also with wariness. "Why the fuck do they have holes in 'em?" he asks.

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. "They're ripped jeans."

"On purpose?" he asks.

Oh lord. "Yes, Ben. They're distressed."

"Christ on a cross, so am I. This is what goes for fashion nowadays?"

God, give me fucking strength, you think. But you still smile. "You're gonna look good, I promise you."

So Ben gathers the pile you've created for him, and with a deep sigh, he heads over to the dressing room. There are two saleswomen stationed there. One visibly breathes in at the sight of him as she subtly taps the other one on the hip. Both greet him with bright eyes and smiles. "Hi there! Need a room?" the first one asks.

"Yeah," Ben nods, and she dutifully lets him into the biggest one. It has a cushioned bench and plenty of hooks on the wall for hanging the shirts and pants.

"Need any help laying these out?" she asks. He shakes his head. "No. I'm good, sweetheart."

She giggles a bit, like he's said something funny. "Okay! Well just let me know if you need any help. Like a different size, different color, if you need a belt, or anything like that."

Ben spots her blush and can't help but smile at her indulgently. "Sure." He has no intention of taking her up on her "help," but he knows the effect he has on women. Once she leaves, he closes the dressing room door and starts trying things on.

He's surprised to find he actually likes a lot of what you picked out for him. But then his superior hearing picks up what the women out front are whispering to each other in excitement.

"Oh my God, it's a criminal offense to have that jawline," says the one who helped him. "And that beard? Cut to perfection."

Ben smirks, both in amusement and with a well of pride welling in his chest. Still got it, fuckers.

The other scoffs. "Honey, I'd climb that man like a goddamn tree."

They snicker together, trying and failing to be quiet. "He looks so familiar though, I swear to God."

"Psh. Maybe in your dreams," one teases. The other hums. "Well, he'll definitely be making an appearance tonight...maybe when I'm still awake." Ben raises a brow at that.

"Hmm, looks like he's got a girlfriend though. She picked out all that stuff for him."

He then perks up a bit at the mention of you.

"Ehh, come on. She's gotta be a sister or something. Look at her."

"Aww, don't do that. She's cute."

"Cute doesn't bag a man like that." The other one chortles in response.

Ben frowns. He knew women were petty, but this takes the fucking cake. You're a New York "10," even in your old sweatpants and a bare face.

"What-fucking-ever, bitch. I'm gonna slip him my number. See if he needs any further assistance." Cue more obnoxious giggling.

The other one chimes in. "Ooh, you're bad. But I'm here for it. Get your man, girl."

"Excuse me." Oh, shit. Ben's brows raise of their own accord. That was your voice.

"Yes," one of the saleswomen greets you more professionally.

"I just want to check on how my boyfriend's doing. He's in that room, right?" you ask. Ben hears your tone though. It's clipped, direct, and intentional. He knows then: you definitely heard those twittering broads.

"Yes, right back there," one of the women directs you.

"Thank you," you reply flatly.

Ben smirks as he hears your brusque steps approaching. He checks himself out in the mirror real quick (the white shirt and black pants are simple, but they go well with the black jacket, he thinks). Then he unlocks the door and opens it, right as you were about to knock.

You blink up at him with surprise, and the remnants of a frown.

He leans against the doorframe, looking down at you with a charming smile. "Hey there, beautiful."

Your lips start to form a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Hey." You take in his current outfit with interest and approval. "Ooh, I like this. You look good...how do you feel in it?"

"Good," Ben says, but his eyes are focused on you. "Come 'ere."

He takes you by surprise when his hand guides you inside the dressing room by the waist. He locks it behind you. You look up at him in askance. He grasps your chin and tilts your face up to him.

"What's the matter?" he asks knowingly.

You raise a brow at him, shaking your head. "Nothing. Come on, did you try on this other stuff?"

Ben keeps a stubborn grip on your chin, so you can't turn away from him. "Don't tell me you're letting those maneating bimbos get to you."

Your eyes go wide and you raise a finger to your lips, reminding him to keep it quiet, but he doesn't give two fucks about that. He sits down on the soft bench and pulls you down with him. You sit across his lap and give him a rueful smile, stroking his cheek.

"I'll let you in on a little secret though," Ben says. Your expression crosses between amusement and intrigue. He leans in close your ear. "Jealousy looks fucking hot on you."

You guffaw in response, playfully smacking his arm.

"Hey, easy on the jacket," he smirks, but he claims you with a kiss. His fingers go to the button on your jeans, undoing it and slowly, torturously, guiding down the zipper. You suck in a breath.

"Ben, we can't," you say. But you're already moaning softly in his ear when his thick fingers begin to rub your pussy through your underwear. You blush at the naughtiness of this, even though the thought just turns you on even more.

He soon moves your panties aside to find your wet, soft heat.

You grip his hair tight, trying to bite your lip against a gasp as his fingers enter you, and begin to pulse inside. Your lower belly coils with heat, especially when his thumb finds your clit.

"We're paying customers," he says, with a deepening smirk. "We can do whatever we damn well please."

At the moment, you find it hard to argue with his logic.

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @romaka344 @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @ades106 @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fabimaou

#ask me stuff #soldier boy #getting jealous #dressing room shenanigans #Soldier Boy imagine #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy headcanon #zepskies answers

[anxious-lee]

|| Huskerdust Tickle Headcanons ||

A/N: I know I'm kind of a one-trick pony with these two but like someone has to suffer for these queers right

-------

Husk:

- switch

- not big on lying but WILL lie about being ticklish

- unless you're angel

- only after the cat is out of the bag (😄✋️🫳) will he admit it (begrudgingly)

- not SUPER ticklish, but if you persist long enough, he'll go hysterical

- most ticklish spots are his wing pits and belly

- angel once was planting kisses on husk's tum and husk had to tell him to cut it out because it tickled; angel then proceeded to go FULL HAM on the kisses

- equal parts embarrassed of his ticklishness and annoyed by it; angel gets him to appreciate it though eventually 🥰

- will fight for his life to keep from laughing, but depending on how long you tickle him, he's probably gonna lose

- laughs start out as deep, rumbly, chuckles then further escalates into high pitched giggling and then finally culminates in breathy, wheezy, snorts and cackles

- tickling seems a little too flirtatious for him, so he doesn't like it unless it's with a significant other (angel dust)

- if you tickle his neck very lightly or like with a feather, his whole body of fur stands up on end lmao; picture a cat that got struck by lightning

- won't admit to angel how much he enjoys getting wrecked unless he's in a delirious state; after a good and thorough tickling, husk might say "how much he needed that" in between gasps of air

- the little yellow heart on his foot-paws are VERY ticklish!! Do not touch them unless you want to get kicked in the face

- will panic if you restrain him, pin him down semi-firmly instead 😊

- purrs when tickled

- flaps his wings too

- PURRS WHEN TICKLED

- he loves to be a ler for his boyfriend, its like his other favorite thing (beside getting tickled obvi)

- is very conscientious of angel's harmful past and takes very good care not to overstep any boundaries

- with that low, rumbling voice you KNOW he's a vicious teaser

- teases angel with smug or sarcastic comments ("you're not doing a very good job of pretending to get away" "maybe this'll teach you to stop pesterin' me while I work" "'wait?' wait for what? because you and I both know. you. love. this")

- claws are his primary tickle weapons, but his feathers and tail plumage are excellent helpers

- never takes his smouldering eyes off of angel, which drives the poor man crazy

- when he's not doing the usual pin down method, he's a big fan of the hug-from-behind tickles as a ler

- the kind of tickler to stay at your weakest (or favorite) spot and tickle it till you're all good and laughed out

- finishes each tickle session with angel with attentive aftercare, the gentleness of which one wouldn't expect from husk

- they have a safeword established but even still husk stops immediately after hearing the word "stop"; this reassures angel that husk values his consent but it also makes it pretty inconvenient when angel cries it out accidentally and then is like "actually could you keep going please? 😗👉👈" husk: 😑

Angel:

- lee-leaning switch

- like 90% lee I would say

- LOVES to be tickled

- will NEVER admit it

- it's one thing for him to say tickle fights are a turn on, it's entirely another for him to reveal that they make him feel loved

- husk knows through context clues (look up "Ask" fic) and verbally teases him about it while he's tickling him

- is extremely ticklish, which as husk has pointed out, is odd considering his whole profession involves people touching him

- ^ the trick is: he's not crazy ticklish in all places, just SOME places

- most of his body is a-little-above-averagely ticklish

- but his armpits are killer

- giggles adorably at every other spot, but the armpits make him cackle (also adorable)

- squirms like you would not believe

- pretty likely you'll get smacked in the face by one of angel's swatting hands

- despite everything valentino has put him through, he still does enjoy bottoming and- wait ITS GOING NSFW LET ME EXPLAIN-

- ^ he still has fun surrendering control when he trusts the other person. and who does he trust more than husk? normally husk wouldn't be too keen on restraining him, but it adds to the spider's enjoyment and helps him stay still enough to enjoy the treatment, so he obliges. as said before, they have a safeword handy. husk knows that angel enjoys the pretend helplessness, so he puts on an act pretending that angel is helpless to escape his tickly fate, as if husk wouldnt drop everything the moment he thought angel really wanted him to stop. nothing makes angel happier than getting tickled senseless all tied up and vulnerable to his boyfriends loving teases

- blushes a nice pretty pink when laughing 😊

- surprisingly good at handling teases. the normal cutesy stuff (ie baby talk) doesn't do much to him and he can keep a cool head. but blunt observations? and facts? (the kind of teasing husk is best at) completely disarm him

- husk: "you're jumping an awful lot for someone who's NOT ticklish" "you love it when i touch you here don't you?" "I'll keep going alllllll night long, I'll tickle you till you can't even think, it's just you and me, and my wiggling fingers"

- angel will point out later that husk could make a lucrative career in the adult film industry with his verbal talents (husk politely refuses)

- remember that little squeak that angel's bosom made when husk poked it in ep 4? Yeah his whole body makes those sounds when you poke him 😊; alongside angel's hysterical giggles are the sounds of rubber duck squeaks. husk loves it

- this isn't news, angel is a criminally talented ler

- he can make each set of hands give a different amount of pressure and different technique, confusing your brain and making it all the more unbearable

- husk isn't just his favorite lee because he loves him. no no no, he's his favorite lee because you really have to work for it. husk won't open up to just anybody. and when you do, it's the most precious thing you've ever seen. angel thinks so anyway 🩷

- respects husk's boundaries just as much as husk respects his; after the teasing and anticipation is over and angel is JUST about to go in for the kill, he'll lean down and whisper "this ok?", to which husk can only look away and nod slightly, too mortified to say much else. every now and then throughout the tickles he'll repeat the question and wait for the ok signal

- he tried to give husk a relaxing foot massage (paw massage?) but he was too ticklish around the heart-shaped area so you can probably guess how that ended ;)

- they have a mutual agreement: no tickling (except maybe a poke) outside of their bedroom. they don't want any prying eyes on their private business

- tickle fights are always fun, just them wrestling and taking turns getting each other, trying to gain the upper hand

- favorite thing to do after a particularly rigorous tickle fight? naps 😊 <3

--------

Finally finished! 😁

#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #lee talks #tickle headcanons #hazbin hotel tickles #lee!husk #ler!husk #lee!angeldust #ler!angeldust #huskerdust tickles

[toournextadventure]

Hello! Can I request some hcs for Wednesday and Enid (they're dating) being obsessed with a fem!reader?

On GOD I'm obsessed with this, yall should send me more wenclair x reader so I can just go apeshit with it

Enid and Wednesday had a pretty good thing going. They had found their rhythm, they were comfortable with each other's boundaries, they were stable. Nice and stable

But then Enid just had to become friends with you, and she just had to decide that, you know what? Wednesday should be best friends with you too. You were so much fun, but not as crazy as Enid, so surely Wednesday would like you too

And she does. Oh god she does. You're surprisingly sweet, you respect her boundaries, you get along with Enid, you listen more than you talk (at least with Wednesday). She would only begrudgingly admit that maybe Enid was right

It's impossible for Enid to stop at friends though, not when she and Wednesday just clicked so effortlessly with you. So she invites you back to their dorm more often, and Wednesday even lets you sit on her bed. She invites you on hers and Wednesday's coffee dates and makes it a point to buy your coffee for you. Wednesday even invites you to study sessions and maybe, maybe, "accidentally" forgets her textbook so oops, guess you should just hang out instead

Maybe Enid likes to be really touchy-feely with you, and she's constantly riding on your back because "I can see better from up here." And maybe Wednesday will link pinkies with you when you're all studying or relaxing in the dorm. And maybe Enid will give you rushed pecks on the cheek when you all part ways

There comes a night where Wednesday and Enid have to sit themselves down and talk about you. Wednesday obviously takes the more logical approach of "what would the logistics of this be? How would this work?" while Enid is just "I'm so lucky, now I get TWO girlfriends!"

Eventually they do bring it up to you, and Enid is already sitting in your lap while you listen and nod along to whatever Wednesday is saying about it before sheepishly admitting that you kind of already thought you were all a thing anyway

"Why would you think that?"

"Because Enid practically made out with me the other night"

"Best friends can make out with each other too, you know!"

#wenclair x reader #wednesday addams x reader #enid x reader

[luvring]

LEAVING LATE AT NIGHT

bokuto + gn!reader | established relationship, fluff

personally i would Not try to go alone. but you know. gotta write what you gotta write for the fic prompt

“kou?” you gently shake bokuto’s shoulder. your boyfriend had fallen asleep in the middle of your show and you didn't have the heart to wake him up; there was something comically adorable about him curled into you, tucked under a fuzzy blanket. but you were hungry, and you knew there was no more of your favourite snacks in the kitchen.

kotaro's eyes stay closed, but he hums at the sound of your voice. “hm?”

“’m gonna go get some food, okay?”

“okay,” he replies quietly. his arms unwrap from your waist and groggily, he reaches up for the side table where his wallet rests. “d’you have—do you wanna use my card?”

“no, it’s fine, it’ll just be some snacks," you promise. the both of you shift so you can get up, and you make sure to leave a quick kiss on his nose before moving to get ready.

“m’kay.” he exhales and moves to lay on his back, rubbing his eyes to wake up a little more. his voice is raspy when he speaks. “when did i fall asleep? what time is it?”

“you fell asleep an hour ago—i paused the episode by the way. it’s almost 10 i think?”

“oh, ’kay.” kotaro hums again. there’s a beat of silence as he listens to you put your shoes on and wonders how he fell asleep, but he shoots up a second later after finally processing your response. “wait, what?”

“i’ll be back soon, love you,” you call out, disregarding the sound of him pushing the blanket off of himself and it hitting the floor.

“what, no, what? baby, what—” he trips a little as he reaches for his phone on the coffee table in front of him. the brightness makes him squint, but he stutters again when he sees the 9:54 pm staring back at him.

“kou—”

“i’m coming with you, hold on. lemme put on my shoes, wait,” he cuts you off frantically. there’s a second where he notices he isn’t wearing socks, nor is there a pair nearby, and he reaches for his slip ons instead. 

“kou, you don’t have to, seriously,” you try not to laugh as he brushes his fingers through his messy hair.

“yeah i do,” he says while walking past you to reach his jacket. he only stops for a second so he can pull you in to plant a kiss on your forehead. bokuto looks at you, and he seems a little bit out of breath, but he still tells you matter-of-factually, “i’m your boyfriend.”

there’s little you can do other than watch him get ready with a small frown. you try to reassure him again, “it’s okay. you’re tired, kou. i’ll be fine–”

“no, i’m coming with you,” he says determined. “you don’t know what could happen this late. what if there’s someone dangerous, or like, a super big monster?”

“a what?” you snort. “i think the show got to you, baby. also what would you do against a monster?”

“well, maybe, but i’m just saying! you don’t know when you could be proof of the supernatural in a 7 eleven parking lot. and obviously i'd distract it until you got the car going and i'd jump in.”

the both of you look at each other, and you open and close your mouth trying to think of a response. because despite his words, and how his brows are furrowed and his mouth in a pout, bokuto's tone in genuinely concerned.

the store isn’t far, you’ve made the 5 minute trip yourself before. and you're sure if you wanted to stand your ground, promise to text or call, he'd (begrudgingly) stay behind. but it was bokuto. you never really rejected more time together, and you're not sure why you'd start now—even if it was only a 15 minute snack run.

so you admit defeat, exhale and smile softly at him. “okay, yeah, you’re right. maybe not the monster part, i hope, but, thank you.”

bokuto's expression quickly turns into a grin before he grabs the car keys. his other hand finds its way into yours, just as warm as usual. he pulls you along to unlock the front door, a bounce in his step as if he didn't just wake up. “did you wanna pass by a drive-thru? i’ll pay.”

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten

#haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto fluff #haikyuu #sometimes like. #when u dont like anything ur writing #u simply jave to keep writing and pretend u r normal abt it #< girl who has problems

[nameless-ken]

Aight, so I don't know if this makes a lick of sense, but I'm trying.

Basically, can you do a piece where Billy and Reader are at the gas station at the same time (not that they really realize it). And Reader is trying to start up her car just as Billy is leaving the store, and her car won't start and she has run out of quarters for the pay phone (or something, not important). Billy watches this go down and they bicker a bit until he is just like "So you want to freeze in a dead car?" Or "Do you want my help or not." (Something like that) IDK how you want it to end, I have no preference.

Not necessarily romance, more like they know of each other but haven't really interacted, and Billy is either just trying to be a better person or is helping because he thinks reader is hot and slightly expected her to be easier to woo.

Feel free to change anything. I'm just a sucker for bickering really.

It's usually hard for me to not write romance lol so this kind of friendly behavior was fun to write! Thanks for the request, hope you like it <3

Check out my masterlist for more!

Roadside Assistance

You're standing by your car, frustration mounting as the engine refuses to cooperate. It's the worst possible time for a breakdown—at a gas station, of all places. You've tried everything, but the stubborn machine won't even sputter to life. You glance around, hoping for a miracle or at least a pay phone to call for help.

Meanwhile, Billy exits the gas station store, a bag of chips and a bottle of whiskey in hand. He's about to hop into his own car when he notices your predicament. There's a moment of recognition that crosses his face as he remembers you from high school. 

"What's the problem?" Billy asks, not unkindly but also not so friendly, as he approaches your car.

You shoot him a frustrated look, feeling a mix of embarrassment and irritation at being caught in this situation. "My car won't start," you reply curtly, patience running thin.

Billy eyes the car for a moment before glancing back at you, an amused glint in his eyes. "Looks like you're having a rough day," he observes, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his tone.

You bristle at his comment, feeling a surge of defensiveness. "Thanks for the observation," you retort, your tone laced with sarcasm of your own.

He quirks an eyebrow, not backing down. "Need a hand?" he offers, his expression unreadable.

You hesitate, weighing your options. Pride wars with practicality, but ultimately, the cold air and the sinking realization that you're stranded win out. "Fine," you relent, admitting defeat. "But don't think I owe you anything."

Billy chuckles, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Wouldn't dream of it," he teases.

You roll your eyes, begrudgingly grateful for the lifeline he's offering. With that, cooperation takes precedence over bickering, at least for the moment.

Billy steps forward with a confident stride, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's the spirit," he says, leaning across you with a smirk as he pops the hood, his movements surprisingly deft. He walks back around, propping it open. 

He seems to know his way around an engine, which surprises you. Maybe there's more to Billy than meets the eye.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" you quip, joining him. 

He shoots you a playful stare before turning his attention back to the engine. "Looks like your battery's dead," he replies, his tone matter-of-fact.

You groan inwardly, cursing your luck. Of course, it would be something as simple as a dead battery. "Great," you mutter, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Billy shoots you a sympathetic look. "Lucky for you, I come prepared," he says, his voice carrying a hint of reassurance.

You watch as he strides over to his car parked a few spots away, starting it up and maneuvering it in front of yours. He returns by your side triumphantly with a set of jumper cables held high. Despite your embarrassment at having to rely on him, a sense of gratitude wells within you. "Thanks," you mutter, feeling the weight of the situation lift slightly.

Billy shrugs off your discomfort with ease. "No problem," he replies casually, connecting the cables to his battery.

"Try again," he instructs, gesturing toward your car as you climb back inside. With a sense of hope, you insert the key once more, willing the engine to start.

As the engine roars to life, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe Billy isn't so bad after all. You shoot him a small smile of gratitude, silently acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, you misjudged him.

Billy returns the smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he meets your gaze. "See? That wasn't so hard," he says, a hint of smugness in his tone. You roll your eyes, but there's a small flicker of amusement in your chest. 

Billy steps back, a satisfied grin on his face as he watches your car come back to life. "Glad I could be of service.”

"Yeah, thanks again," you reply, genuine appreciation coloring your words. He waves off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand. "Anytime," he says, his voice surprisingly warm.

Maybe this chance encounter was exactly what you needed—a reminder that sometimes, unexpected allies can come from the most unlikely of places.

With a final nod of gratitude, you climb into your car, ready to get home for the night. As you drive off, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this won't be the last time you cross paths with Billy.

#namelessken requests #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove stranger things #billy stranger things #stranger things billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff

[doumadono]

OK hear me out? What is the MHA boys? Dabi, Hawks, Bakugo, Deku, or any other character with reader, who surprised them by dressing up as them for Halloween (since that spooky season is just around the corner😁) what do you think?

A/N: What a delightful idea, dear anon! I believe it would indeed take them all by surprise!

MASTERLIST

Dabi

At first, Dabi would be completely caught off guard, staring them in disbelief.

"You know, you've got some guts, dressing up like me."

Dabi would likely keep a close eye on them throughout the night, intrigued by their dedication.

After the initial shock, he might smirk and sarcastically comment on how they managed to nail his signature look.

"Alright, your costume's not half bad. Maybe you're not completely useless."

Eventually, he'd admit that their costume was pretty cool, but he'd still maintain his aloof demeanor.

Hawks

Hawks would burst into laughter when he saw the reader dressed up as him, finding it absolutely hilarious.

"You really went all out! I love it."

Hawks might challenge them to a "pose-off," seeing who can mimic his heroic stances the best.

Hawks would generously offer a couple of his feathers to enhance their costume.

He might suggest taking flight together, giving them a taste of what it's like to soar through the night sky.

Bakugo

Bakugo would likely explode in anger at first, thinking the reader was mocking him.

"You think you can outdo me, huh? We'll see about that!"

However, after a moment of intense ranting, he'd begrudgingly admit that their costume was pretty accurate.

"Fine, your costume is decent. Don't get used to compliments."

By the end of the night, he might grumble that their costume was "passable" but still secretly appreciate their effort.

Deku

Deku would be overjoyed and genuinely flattered to see someone dressed up as him.

He'd likely approach them with a big smile, thanking them for choosing his costume.

"Wow, I can't believe you dressed up as me! It's amazing! I'm feeling honoured!"

Deku might even share some of his favorite hero stories and moments with them.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted to be All Might for Halloween," Deku'd open up.

By the end of the night, Deku would feel a deep connection with them and consider them a new friend.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #bnha x reader #dabi fluff #dabi x reader #dabi x you #hawks x you #hawks fluff #keigo takami x you #mha hcs #touya todoroki x reader #asked and answered #midoriya x you #midoryia x reader #izuku midoryia #izuku midoriya headcanons #midoriya fluff #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader

[stinkysam]

Roronoa Zoro - I don't need saving.

Warning : none (opla spoilers ?)

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "I’m partial to head cannons these days! Maybe some smutty fluffy ones, if you could?! Or even a zoro x reader fic where he THINKS he’ll save them but they ends up saving him, then the sexual tension and relationship builds from there??" - @ericaand

Reader : gender neutral (You/yours)

Zoro ? Who told Buggy and his crew to drop their weapons or he'd kill them while he himself had no weapons ?

Zoro, the 19 years old man who confidently asked Mihawk, the best swordsman of the world, for a duel to the death ?

100% believe he doesn't need saving and will be the one to save people.

He realized he wasn't as strong as he thought twice. The first time was when Mihawk defeated him with a small knife. The second was when you saved him in extremis from an enemy.

Oh, he didn't take it very well. His training was already quite intense since his defeat against Mihawk but now it was on another level.

He wasn't mad at you. Well, okay, that's not true, he was a bit mad at you for saving him. But more at himself for being so weak.

It took some time for him to overcome it and also for you two to have the talk*.

*Talk about if you're allowed to save him again and why.

The answer is yes you're allowed, he has no choice, that's what loyal crew members do, they protect each other. Zoro had to begrudgingly accept it.

Despite this, he didn't hate you completely. He admired your strength and envied you. You who he thought would need saving.

You're full of surprises, apparently.

But now he knows you can and will stand your ground in a fight, he won't need to worry about helping you.

Now that he trusts you and your strength, that's where his feelings for you can blossom.

He's definitely a personality over physical appearance kind of guy. He doesn't care what you look like, that's your heart that matters.

He made the "first step" by accepting you didn't need saving, now it's your turn. You have to make it clear you have some interest in him, simply chatting won't get you closer.

You'll have to flirt with him. He will be more confused than flustered at first, not understanding what you're doing. But once he finally registers it, he'll definitely get sheepish and a bit flustered.

That's the best way to shut him up.

Quickly he'll try to come up with smart comebacks to shut you up but they never really work or they sound… suspiciously weird.

That's where the sexual tension kinda arrives. Both trying to shut up the other with the flirtiest remark.

It's not the same competitiveness as with Sanji. It's more about ego. With you it's simply his way of flirting back.

Though he's definitely the one that gets the most flustered, not used to this kind of attention. He knows he's a good looking man, but still, it feels a bit weird to get flirted with.

Zoro accidentally confesses parts of his feelings for you while trying to find a snarky comeback for you. You know, those weird comebacks that sound awfully suspicious.

You stare at him while you smile and he just looks at you, unsure on how to recover from the situation. He blushes even more as you tease him about it but he refuses to elaborate on what he said.

It takes days of pestering and teasing him for Zoro to explode and finally let out his feelings for you. Repeating what he said days before and admitting his feelings.

He's more pissed than anything.

Surprisingly you didn't react as bad as he thought you would. He thought you'd tease him again and boasts about it. But instead you just smiled and told him you felt the same.

He said "Okay." with his usual scowl on his face, unsure of what to do now. He never thought you two would get this far.

Even though you reciprocated his feelings he doesn't know what you want to do. Do you want to move back to before and keep flirting or do you want to become… lovers ?

#gn!reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #m!reader #one piece #one piece live action #opla #roronoa zoro #one piece imagine #opla imagine #roronoa zoro x male reader #roronoa zoro imagine #opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro

[woso-dreamzzz]

Breakfast IV

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: The trip to the Maldives

"You can smile, you know," Mamma says," It won't hurt."

You don't give her the satisfaction, shovelling more food into your mouth.

"Oh? Giving me the silent treatment but now smile? Come on. Smile." Mamma pokes at your cheeks until the corners of your mouth lift up begrudgingly. "There's my beautiful girl. What's got you so grumpy?"

"It's hot," You complain.

Mamma laughs. "Well, maybe you would be less hot if you didn't insist on sleeping with me and Ellie last night."

"Should have kicked Ellie out. You've had me longer," You mutter but Mamma keeps laughing and presses a soft kiss to your hairline. You look behind you. "Is Ellie up yet? I'm bored."

"I thought you were hot."

"Mamma! I can be both!"

"Ellie's still sleeping," Mamma says," How about we head out and grab some ice cream if you're so hot?"

You look at Mamma suspiciously for a moment but then run to get your shoes before she changes her mind.

It's Christmas break and you're in the Maldives with Mamma and Ellie. You don't really like it much. It's too hot and the ocean makes your hair go all weird and Ellie's being extra annoying.

You made your truce in France so you don't really think it applies here.

Ellie's being extra annoying because of the heat, you think, because she threw you in the sea yesterday when you weren't ready all because you ate some of the snacks from Australia she'd brought with her.

You thought that was kind of mean because Ellie's an adult and you're only little and Mamma always says sharing is caring. Ellie should have acted like an adult and not thrown you in the sea.

You're good at swimming though so it didn't matter and you kicked her in the shin when you got back to shore and Mamma didn't even tell you off for it.

You get ice cream with Mamma and immediately beeline to her bedroom as soon as you're back.

"Ew! Why are your fingers sticky?!" Ellie demands as she wakes up.

You shovel more ice cream into your mouth, wiping off your hands against her arm.

"You got ice cream without me? Daan, how could you?!"

You knew she's joking around now and you've sufficiently annoyed her for today so you skip back to the lounge to watch some tv.

You know that Mamma and Ellie are kissing and being gross because you can hear them giggling and you know that's what they do when they kiss because you walked in on them once.

"Mamma! Ellie's being mean again!" You exclaim when they finally come back in and Ellie gives you a noogie on your head.

"Ellie! Leave her alone!"

"Daan! Your pipsqueak is trying to bite me again!"

"Y/N! Be nice!"

You stick your tongue out but keep your teeth to yourself as Ellie laces up her shoes and throws your own at you.

There's something about you that Ellie can admit that she'll never get. You're slightly feral at times. It shouldn't be endearing but it is and Ellie hopes that never changes even as you try to shove her off the boardwalk and into the ocean.

You're pushing with all your miniscule might but Ellie's refusing to budge. In an impressive show of strength, she picks you up and throws you over her shoulder as she walks to the oceanside bar that's nearby.

"If you're going to give me alcohol, Mamma will be mad," You say as she comes back from ordering drinks, having dropped you off at an empty table.

"I'm not giving you alcohol," Ellie says, dipping her hand into her purse a bit nervously.

"Unless it's in ice cream," You reply," Mamma lets me have ice cream that's got champagne in it when we go to the theatre. Can we get ice cream?"

"You've already had ice cream today, pipsqueak," Ellie reminds you, rolling something around her fingers.

"But you wanted ice cream earlier. I won't tell Mamma if you let me have some."

Ellie rolls her eyes fondly at you before suddenly turning serious.

You notice the switch instantly and it's like you immediately put your walls back up. You go stiff and rigid and look at her as suspiciously as the first time she slept around. One of her hands comes up to take yours but you pull away.

"Pipsqueak," She says gently," It's okay."

You shake your head. "Is something bad happening?" You ask, eyes darting around," Ellie, you're being weird. Stop it."

It's clear that you're panicking now but still rooted to your seat. You look like you're going to bolt at any moment and Ellie doesn't know if she has the wherewithal to catch you before you disappear.

It's now or never.

She slides you what she had hidden in one of her hands.

You stop breathing and suddenly it's Ellie's turn to panic now.

"I..." You say, staring down at what is now cradled in your palm," I...I don't understand."

"I want to marry your Mamma," Ellie says to you. She reaches out for you again.

You let her.

"I don't want to be temporary in your or her lives. I really want to marry your Mamma."

You pop open the box to look at the ring.

"And I know we have a truce but I don't think it covers this. So, I need to ask. Are you okay with this? Is this alright with you?"

You're still not looking at her. "But...But why? I'm mean to you all the time. I get you all sticky with ice cream and I know you don't like walking to school with me when we can just drive. Why are you staying?"

"I love your Mamma, pipsqueak," Ellie says," Can I tell you a secret?"

She moves to sit on your side of the table, gently bringing you closer in case any sudden move will startle you.

"I love you too."

Your eyes starting stinging with tears.

"And I promise that I don't actually care if you put your sticky ice cream hands on my skin or make me walk half an hour in the rain when the car journey is basically ten minutes. I want all of that with you and your Mamma but only if you want that too."

You look up at Ellie and clamber onto her lap, curling up so you can press your ear against her chest and listen to the beating of her heart.

When you come back to the villa, Daan knows that you're acting weird. You're a little jumpy and you can't seem to make eye contact.

Ellie's no help, telling her nothing of what you've done to waste almost three hours together. She just shrugs and shepherds you into their room for your usual afternoon nap.

"You know how she is," Ellie says after getting you settled," The heat's getting to her a bit." She offers up no other explanation but that one before heading out again.

Daan's left to stew in her own worries for a few hours before familiar feet draw her attention.

"Did you have a good nap?"

She cranes her head back to look at you, brow furrowing as she does so.

You've changed out of what you were wearing earlier, with your shoes already on and holding hers in your hand.

"Have we got plans?" She teases when you force her into her shoes and drag her out the door.

You don't answer, holding your Mamma's hand tightly. You pull her along the walkway to the beach, weaving through the sparse trees to where Ellie's waiting for you both.

"What are you two troublemakers doing?" Daan asks," Wearing the same clothes now? What have you planned?"

You drop her hand to stand next to Ellie, who leans down to whisper something in your ear. You giggle before going to grab something out of Ellie's bag.

Ellie smiles.

She steps closer.

She gets on one knee.

Daan says yes before she even asks.

You throw confetti into the air.

#woso x reader #ellie carpenter x reader #ellie carpenter #danielle van de donk x reader #danielle van de donk #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[almond-tofuuu]

My thoughts on the Love and Deepspace boys

☀️🎨❄️

aka the vibes I get from them so far

Xavier ☀️

Sunshine boi ☀️

He gives me highschool crush vibes

Like stereotypical anime style first love vibes (you're both eachothers first loves and have no prior relationship experience so you're both kinda awkward at first but you spend more time together and slowly open up to eachother and become this super cute couple 🥺)

Definitely feels like a relationship with him would be so sweet

Seems kind of shy but he definitely has a dominant side it just takes a little while for it to come out

Spontaneous gestures and small gifts to show you how much he loves you (buys you your favourite snacks and cute plushies just bc, doesn't need to be a special occasion he just wants to see you smile and your eyes light up)

The kind of boyfriend you fall asleep on facetime with

Picnic dates in the park 🌳🧺, late night star gazing ✨, slow lazy mornings spent cuddling in bed 🌇

Rafayel 🎨

Drama queen 🙄

Okay so at first this man gave me such brat energy (gonna admit I didn't like him at first cause I'm a brat too and I felt like two of us together would be too much lol 🫣)

He's definitely grown on me tho, he can be pretty sweet when he wants to be and is really fun to be around

Great at cheering you up when you've had a rough day (knows exactly what to say to take your mind off things)

He definitely feels like the kind of bestie you'd hang out with in the middle of the night and commit crimes

He acts all whiney and dramatic but he's definitely got a softer more sensitive side, he just doesn't like to show it (maybe he doesn't like to feel vulnerable around people cause he's still hurting from the last time he let someone close iykyk)

Long walks on the beach ⛱️, moonlight swimming in the sea 🌊, dancing in the rain 🌧️

Zayne ❄️

I stand by the fact that Zayne is pure husband material

This man right here is so husband coded, like he's the kind of guy that is devoted to you and cares for you 24/7

Comes off cold at first glance but he's actually such a big softie 🥺 like he acts indifferent but this man is absolutely whipped for you

Begrudgingly goes along with anything you wanna do bc he loves seeing how happy and excited you get when he agrees (he WILL be your personal ice maker, even if he says he won't he doesn't mean it 😚)

Being with Zayne feels like home, a relationship with him is stable, comforting and loving

Not big on PDA so he can feel a little distant when you're out in public, but when you're alone with him it's a different story

Let's you see a side of him that no one else does, he can be vulnerable with you, finally letting down his guard (loves to come home to you after a long shift at the hospital, just holds you quietly breathing in your scent and feeling himself relax against you)

Lunch dates in his office 🍱, cooking dinner together 🍲, slow dancing in the kitchen at 3am 🌃

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier #xavier love and deepspace

[lost-in-lamentation]

more of you.

a/n: self indulgent fic today because i've been borderline sick these days and i literally cannot afford to be sick right now (so i'm pushing my illness onto MC)

content: mammon's not great at taking care of sick people, but he'd do it for you anyway.

non-established relationship. pining mammon. sick fic.

fluff. comfort. mammon × gen!reader. 1k words.

the first sign was the persistent headache that had been following you since the night before. of course, not wanting to miss your classes at RAD, you blamed it on the combination of too much caffeine and not enough rest. you practically dragged yourself to RAD, ignoring the second sign of dizziness while you walked. by the end of your first class, your headache had grown into a full blown migraine, much to your disappointment. you didn't even register the fact that the lecture had ended until mammon had his face hovering dangerously close to yours.

"oi, human. why's your face all red?"

you groaned and waved him away from you, slowly starting to pack away your things. "it's not red," you muttered.

mammon drew back with a click of his tongue, hands on his hips while he looked you up and down. "liar," the demon retorted, poking at your forehead. "jeez, you're all hot too. this doesn't feel normal."

"maybe i've just always been hot." you hissed at mammon's hand, the touch on your forehead hard enough to send the room spinning.

mammon scoffed at you, shoving his hands into his pockets while turning to leave the classroom. "i didn't mean it like that- stop thinking weird stuff!"

you would have laughed if you had the energy, but with the way your head was pounding, you didn't have it in you to do anything. with shaky legs, you pushed yourself up out of your chair, trying your best to stumble towards the doorway. you crashed into doorframe with a loud thud, landing on the floor seconds later with your head in your hands. despite your blurry vision, you saw the white haired demon rushing back towards you, his panicked voice ringing in your ears. "mammon?"

"what the hell's wrong with ya?!"

when you felt him crouch in front of you, you acted without thinking straight (not that you really could), reaching up to wrap your arms his neck. "don't feel good," you mumbled into his shoulder, slumping against his torso.

"oh, now you're admitting it," mammon growled at you. "and stop clinging to me!"

you shook your head as much as you could without making it hurt worse. "you're too loud, my head hurts."

the avatar of greed inhaled deeply, stopping himself from shouting any more. "why'd i have to be put in charge of ya in the first place?" begrudgingly, mammon hoisted you up into his arms, one arm locked under your knees and the other close to your waist. the last thing you heard before knocking out was mammon calling for one of his brothers down the hall.

when mammon finally made it back to the house of lamentation, he debated kicking the door off its hinges just to get inside, but quickly changed his mind when he remembered he still owed lucifer money for the last time he did it. he was also afraid he'd wake you up in the process, but that wasn't a real reason, he had told himself. instead, mammon shifted you in his arms so he had just enough leeway to turn the doorknob. he repeated the same process when he got to your bedroom, finally clicking the door open and shuffling over to place you down on your bed. after making sure you were still breathing, mammon turned away, ready to leave. he wasn't good with taking care of others, let alone a sick human; but when he took another look at you, dishevelled and almost helpless, mammon felt something in his stomach churn. the demon began his way back to your side, tentative fingertips brushing away the hairs that had started to stick to your forehead.

mammon frowned at the feeling, knowing that you usually never ran this hot. he only knew that because he poked at you often, and not because he had tried (and failed) to hold your hand on multiple occasions. the eldest brother had ordered mammon to come back to RAD if nothing else needed to be done, but mammon decided that maybe the human needed his care just this once.

he wasn't confident in his abilities, but he had seen what to do once while watching an anime over leviathan's shoulder. and so, mammon left your room for a few minutes, returning with a bucket of cool water and a small towel in hand. as carefully as he could, he pushed you further onto your bed so he could sit on the edge by your side. the towel, now damp, was placed onto your forehead moments after, accompanied by mammon draping a blanket over your now trembling figure. "what's your deal, getting sick all of a sudden…" mammon talked to himself every few minutes, constantly replacing the towel as it needed to be replaced. "get better already so we can go hit the casino. or somethin'." internally, mammon wished he was better at enchantments so that he wouldn't have to keep switching out the towel. the idea that satan or lucifer would be better at taking care of you made his blood boil.

the longer he stared at your face, the more his own heated up, the blush on his cheeks beginning to match yours. "so rude, ya won't even talk to me right now. if ya think getting sick gives ya an excuse, it doesn't. just so ya know!"

softly, the pads of his fingertips began to wander along your face, tracing your jaw and dancing over your cheeks lightly. a part of mammon had always wondered what it'd be like to hold your face in his hands. with a sigh, mammon pulled the towel off your forehead and dipped it into the bucket.

"it's not fair, human," he said under his breath, swirling the water with a hand. "when did i start wanting you more than anything else?"

he gazed at you longingly, setting the cloth down on your bedside table before scooting closer to you. slowly, he leaned in towards you, taking a shaky breath for courage before pressing his lips to the crown of your head. being greed incarnate, mammon wanted more of this, more of you, but he held back, not wanting to ruin what he had with you already. he pulled away from you, but couldn't get far before leaning down again and pressing his forehead to yours.

"one day," mammon murmured onto your skin, stroking your cheek delicately as he placed the towel back in its rightful place.

a/n: when i get sick and delirious i immediately just want mammom tbh

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x you #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon #obey me comfort #aris writes 🐈‍⬛