I love Mean!Eddie. its just so fun for me!! Fics where Steve is trying to be his friend, whether cuz he actually likes him or just for the sake of the kids, and Eddie’s like “Ew no fuck off”
Because that so funny to me. Steve has like spent his entire school years being popular and well loved. Even after he laid down the crown, people (excluding Billy and co) were atleast civil. And then? Some dude?? just hates him?
Steve is my favourite character though so I prefer it when Eddie takes it too far and has to apologise, but the main point is that I want Eddie to tease Steve, who just takes it because what else is he supposed to do?? he’s not gonna argue with a dude with bambi eyes! Steve has taste!
455 notes
·
View notes
pls can we get a crumb of service top ghost knight doing a quickie in the castle stairwells i beg
I might've misunderstood what part of the service top we were looking for here...
“Thought I might find you here,” Ghost says, you lift your head from your folded arms to look at him. Even a few steps down you have to tilt your head to meet his eye. Your fault for sitting you suppose. You scoot to press against the wall, give him room to sit on the step next to you. Well, not exactly next to you, a step down, enough to give you privacy as you sigh. “Want to talk about what just happened?”
“Not particularly,” You huff, settle your chin in your hands, content just to nudge Ghost with your knee. You like seeing him all dressed up, you know he still has his chainmail under his jacket, you might be the only one that knows that. He’s a handsome figure even with it. It’s too bad he wears a mask for parties, but you suppose that adds to his charm.
You wouldn’t want anyone else to see the crooked nose you’d accidentally broken, or the lips that smile just for you. You reach to straighten his collar, and he catches your hand. Rough calloused fingers lace between your much softer ones. You’re unused to feeling his hands, they speak to years of dedication, hard work. Something you could never dream of. You’re almost jealous that he seems to tell the full tale of his life on just his skin. You sometimes wonder if you’ll even be lucky enough to appear as a footnote in your family tree. You’re sure they’ll be singing Ghost’s songs for generations.
“All those men just see me as a means to an end,” You grumble. Ghost hums, you wiggle your fingers in his grasp, tapping his knuckles. You try not to hope for his thoughts of you. It doesn’t work, but you still try.
“Is that why you stomped on the Marques’ foot and ran off?” He asks, amused, never judgemental.
“No,” You frown, stop your tapping, “I stomped on his foot because he grabbed my ass.” Probably trying to get a feel for what he was getting into if he became king. Just the thought of having to go to bed with that man makes you shudder. Ghost is silent for a long moment. It’s an insult against you, you both know it, but there’s little you can do at such a public function. Not like you can have your knight chop off his hand in the middle of the ballroom.
Although you’re sure he wants to. You’ve never seen Ghost stand for any disrespect against you. It’s comforting to know that you always have him in your corner. Certainly makes you less upset that he knows all your hiding places. You think just having him here is enough sometimes, just being near your pillar of safety. Your knight in shining armor.
Ghost twists to stand and face you, pulling you to your feet with your joined hands. “Come on, back to the ball,” He tells you, you pout and he sighs, “None of that, be a good girl for me, princess. Don’t wanna have’ta carry you.” Although the smile in Ghost’s voice begs to differ. You offer him a smile.
“Just to the bottom of the stairs?” You try, you know how easily Ghost caves to you. He releases your hand and you wrap your arms around his neck, feel him wrap an arm around your legs, another around your back. You’re easily lifted into his hold, your legs dangling nicely under his arm as you bury your face against his shoulder.
He’s warm, sturdy. You breathe him in and smell leather, steel, the last tinge of campfire smoke, Simon. You think you feel his head dip, the ever so gentle nudge of his nose against your hair. You press into him, tighten your grip on his shoulders as his fingers tighten on your dress. You haven’t moved, haven’t started your descent down the stairs. Why should you? You have everything you could ever need right here.
I love you, you think, I never want anyone else to touch me. You pull back enough to look at him, to meet Ghost’s drawn expression. He’s so close, just waiting for you. If you never see another soul you’ll at least have seen him, at least have loved him. You wonder what it would be like to kiss him. You slide your hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek, he closes his eyes like you’ve struck him.
“Don’t-” He rasps, you freeze, “don’t make this harder than it has to be my lady.”
“Of course,” You drop your hand, turn your face away from him. Of course. You swallow down your heart, and feel him start down the stairs.
1K notes
·
View notes