#of the fictober prompts my bad

[captainsophiestark]

Bad Timing

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

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Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day 25 Prompt: "Do I look like I knew that?"

Summary: When Eloise needs help with a problem, she knows she can count on her brother and his new wife for help.

Word Count: 1,047

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You know, lazy days like this are by far my favorite," I mused, curling into my husband's side as we laid in bed together. "No galas, no gossip from the Ton. Just the two of us."

"I certainly have to agree," said Benedict, my husband, as he traced patterns on the bare skin of my back. "Although, I do enjoy watching Colin wade through the swarm of Mamas every time we go out, now that he is the only unwed Bridgerton son. At least until Gregory gets a bit older."

"I'd say you were being mean, but he did ditch you and Anthony for quite a while in his travels."

"Yes, he did. So he deserves this."

I laughed, shaking my head a bit at my husband's antics. A moment later, he pulled me tighter to his side, rolling us so I laid completely on top of his chest. I rose up on my elbows to meet his eyes and found him looking at me with a mischevious smile.

"You know, it's just occurred to me," he started. "There are quite a few ways I can think of that our time would be better spent than talking about my brother."

"Oh really?" I asked, grinning and leaning down closer to Benedict. "And what might those ideas be?"

"Well for starters..."

With that, he brought his hand up to the back of my neck and pulled me into a searing kiss. I rested all my weight on him, kissing right back, until a knock at the door jarred us both out of the moment.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, and Benedict let me. We shared a look.

"Maybe whoever it is will go away if we ignore them," he whispered in suggestion. As if he'd willed it into happening, a voice from the other side of the door called out.

"Y/N! If you're in there, please, I need to talk to you."

Eloise. Benedict's little sister, who I'd become close with throughout the course of Benedict courting me. I gave Benedict an apologetic look.

"No," he whined as I rolled off of him, quickly wrapping a robe around myself and heading for the door.

"I have to," I replied. "I can't ignore her. Make yourself decent."

With that, I turned from my husband and went to open the door just wide enough to see Eloise on the other side, and for her to see me.

"Oh, thank goodness!" she cried, moving to push past me and into the room. I let her, just hoping that Benedict had done as I'd said. Eloise and I had done this a few times as we'd gotten closer, and whenever it happened, I knew she really, truly needed me.

I turned around to follow Eloise back into the room after shutting the door behind me, only to find her frozen just a few steps from where she'd come in. Benedict stood next to the bed, looking tired but resigned to our new morning activity as he laced up his shirt.

"Good morning, Eloise," he said, a little edge of teasing in his tone. "You know, I was trying to enjoy the morning with my wife-"

"Do I look like I knew that?" she cried. I fought back a laugh as I walked forward to wrap my arm around her shoulder.

"It's alright, Eloise," I said. "Benedict and I were about to get up for the morning, anyway."

Benedict shot me a look with his eyebrows almost into his hairline, and I glared right back, imploring him to go along with me. He cleared his throat.

"Right. That we were. What did you need help with, sister?"

She hesitated, so I walked around to face her, putting both of my hands on her shoulders and blocking her eyeline to Benedict. I gave her a small smile, so she'd know everything was alright, then spoke in a low voice that I knew Benedict wouldn't be able to hear.

"If this is a ladies' problem, or one you don't want your brother to know about, El, I'll throw him out of here right now and we can talk, alright? But if you're embarrassed about knocking when you did, then you truly don't need to be. We love you, and we'd both drop far more important things to help you whenever you need it."

Eloise sighed, nodding a little as she did. The bright red blush that had risen to her cheeks started to fade, and she at last met my eyes again.

"Thank you. I... suppose it wouldn't hurt to have Benedict's input as well," she said. I nodded, giving her a bright smile before turning around to face my husband.

"Put your problem-solving hat on, Benedict," I said. I started drifting for the couches by Benedict's turret window, one of my favorite features of his room. "We've got a family matter to deal with."

They both beamed at me as they started following me over to the couch. I'd considered a few of Benedict's siblings as good as family for a long time now, but it felt amazing to be able to say that and have it be completely true.

Benedict and Eloise settled into the couch on either side of me, Benedict resting his arm across my shoulders. Those kinds of casual touches would've been scandalous before we were married, but now we could do them whenever we wanted to, which also made my heart sing.

Eloise gave us both one last look with a raised eyebrow, then launched into her explanation of the problem that had brought her to our doorstep, which had something to do with a boy of virtually no social status who'd caught her attention. Benedict and I spent the rest of the morning, helping her as best we could, in the way only we could.

Although I hated that Eloise had to deal with the problems she dealt with, a small part of me sang the entire morning as Benedict and I worked together, the perfect team, to help his little sister. This was going to be the rest of our lives, with Eloise and maybe someday with children of our own, and I couldn't be happier thinking about that future with Benedict. We made the perfect team.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[harryslittlefreakk]

masterlist

* indicates smut

^ indicates angst

you can join my taglist here

my requests are open :) please feel free to tell me anything you’d like to see, no idea is too wild here. 🫶🏼

late night talking (completed)

a chance meeting with harry before his wembley dates leads you into a whirlwind relationship. harry x fan!y/n

favourite crime

a chance meeting between y/n and her professor leads to a dare… which leads to a forbidden affair neither of them will forget

my policeman

harry is the police officer assigned to your case, though you are inexplicably drawn to one another 🤭 age gap romance

dr. styles*

fratboy!harry is a surgical resident in your class, and he helps you to relieve some stress

the pact* part 2*

you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

little angel*

a little drabble of needy y/n and dad!rry goodness, the pact extra but can be read alone

to build a home *^

buzz cut!rry and y/n spend their first new year’s together after splitting up and they look back on happier times. inspired by the song

girl crush *^

harry x bisexual bandmate y/n, based on the song

harry turns 30 *

a filthy smutty blurb about harry’s birthday 🎈💖

after the storm *^

y/n wakes up in her sworn enemies bed, with a city-wide storm keeping her trapped there. in the time that she’s stuck with harry, can they overcome their differences and build a friendship? 🫢🤷

obsessed ^

harry is your roommate, best friend … and crush 💃 he’s finally broken up with his girlfriend and you’re struggling to hide how you feel about him. loosely based on the song!!

arrogant s.o.b ^

based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?

too sweet *

essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on

just between us *^

when y/n’s life starts to fall apart, her boss is there to pick up the pieces.. behind his wife’s back. nanny reader x ceorry

make me, darling^ make me, darling 2*

harry and y/n’s shared hatred for each other finally reaches its breaking point when they realise how deep their feelings go. based on the prompt ‘do all of us a favour and just leave’

kiss it better

when y/n doesn’t show up to work, harry takes her care into his own hands. ceorry x PA y/n

the one *^

y/n runs into the last person she ever expected to see in the last place she ever expected to see him, bringing old feelings & hurt to the surface. based on the prompt: childhood friends to lovers

recipe for disaster

y/n is a stubborn, clumsy baker and harry is a stubborn, overbearing firefighter

fictober masterlist

[lovebugism]

OK the fall prompt "rainy walks" got me thinking like... what if reader got upset about something and went for a walk and got caught in the rain, and ended up running into Steve who is just out walking and loving the fall gloomy vibe

ty for requesting! — steve runs into his ex while trying to escape a bunch of freaks and finds out you're running from something of your own (exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, tw mentions of toxic relationships, 1.9k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve doesn’t usually smoke. He dropped that habit when he graduated high school and realized he only needed a cigarette when his group of asshole friends were around. He smoked because it felt cool mostly, but also because it felt good to be distracted from his lingering feelings of non-belonging.

Now he’s got people around him who make him feel like he belongs. 

It’s too bad they’re all a bunch of freaks.

After being cooped up in the Munson trailer all day, he thinks he’s developed something short of cabin fever. Desperate to get away, he swiped one of Eddie’s cigs and a forgotten zippo before heading out to smoke on the back porch.

He exhales grey smoke from his pink lips. It leaves in invisible wisps beneath heavy storm clouds. He thinks he hears a voice over the muffled sound of Dustin Henderson’s yelling. “Fucking asshole— who do you think you are?” the voice speaks, familiar in a way that makes his stomach ache. “Like, fuck you, dude. You don’t get to talk to me like that. No fucking way.”

He peeks around the corner, and there he finds you — an old ex from a lifetime ago that he hasn’t quite gotten over yet. His chest starts to tighten. He can’t tell if he’s happy to see you or utterly horrified.

You’re still dressed in your pajamas despite it being early afternoon — if an oversized t-shirt that certainly doesn’t belong to you can be counted as pajamas, anyway. It’s a white and red Metallica tee that falls to your knees, slightly frayed at the hem. 

It probably belonged to Billy before it belonged to you. If Steve had to guess, you probably stole it like you did all his shirts. He still isn’t sure what came of his favorite Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt.

You come down the road from the Hargrove-Mayfield trailer, looking like you left in a rush. You’re barely dressed and shivering in the cold, walking fast like you’re angry and desperate to get away.

You and Steve broke up a long time ago, but his heart still swells with the familiar urge to protect you.

“Are you okay?” Steve calls to you as he rounds the corner of the Munson trailer.

The crunchinggravel beneath your feet goes quiet when you still. Your head whips toward the sound of the familiar voice, eyes widening when you find Steve there. Your heart starts to race — not because you’ve just run into your ex, but because you’ve run into your ex who you kinda sorta ditched several months ago.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay,” he repeats with a quiet, lopsided grin. He flicks the end of his cigarette with his thumb and tries to meet your gaze. “Sounded like you were giving someone a hell of a talking to.”

Your face flares with embarrassment. You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest — partly to shield from the crisp cold but mostly to comfort yourself. “Yeah. I’m just— I was just talking to myself,” you stammer, flashing a wavering smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m good.”

Steve nods, then squints like he doesn’t believe you. “Okay… Are you sure?”

A laugh tumbles from your mouth. It’s cynical and bitter and utterly forced.

“Yes, Steve. I’m fine,” you assure with a bite to your tone, colder than the grey autumn around you. You smile through it anyway, like you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Steve knows this. He hasn’t been your boyfriend for a while, but something about the way you say it makes his chest ache. He isn’t sure why.

“No, I know,” he nods quickly, shrugging with his brows pinched. “But I’m never gonna, like, not worry about you, you know?”

The empty feeling in your chest starts to warm. Your nails dig crescent shapes into your arms.

“Why?” you murmur.

“I don’t know. Because you were really important to me, I guess— you are really important to me. And that doesn’t just, like… go away,” Steve rambles, shier than you’ve ever seen him. He swipes an anxious hand through his cinnamon locks. The rouge strands hanging over his forehead fall back into place a second later.

Even though your boyfriend forced you not to talk to any of your friends, he wants to say. Even though you’re not mine anymore.

It’s been so long since someone’s been this soft with you. You’re not used to it anymore. You’d much rather him be mean because at least then you’d have a place to put all your anger.

“That’s… That’s nice,” you mutter under your breath like an idiot because you don’t know what else to say.

Steve takes one last puff of his cigarette, if only to distract himself from the awkward silence. He takes a deep breath in and tosses the stick to the gravel, exhaling the smoke as he snuffs out the ash with his sneaker.

“Where were you, uh— Where were you headed?”

“Nowhere. I was just… on my way back home.”

His brows furrow. He doesn’t bother to hide his concern. “Do you have a car?”

“Nope,” you answer with a sigh. “Still don’t have my license, so…”

“Still?”

You nod, scrunching your nose all sheepish. “I know…”

“We used to practice all the time!”

Steve’s golden laugh makes you smile despite yourself. “Honestly, I’m still a little scarred from when I almost hit that deer.”

He nods at the memory, quietly nostalgic and warm with it. 

That was on the way to Deep Green Cove, where the two of you were headed to meet his parents at their over-the-top lake house. He let you drive because he knew you’d been wanting to and thought the vacant countryside road would be easiest for you to practice on.

It hadn’t been.

And you did it all for nothing because his parents didn’t even show.

It was a good weekend, though. He can’t believe he forgot about it until now.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I guess,” Steve shrugs with his head tilted to his shoulder. “It took me three days to get you in the car again.”

“I’m pretty sure I cried, like, all night after that.”

“Yeah, my t-shirt still has tear stains on it, actually,” he teases with a boyish chuckle.

Your own giggle sputters from your mouth. You hide it with your palm — like you feel guilty about it. It feels good to laugh, though. To remember that you used to cry over stupid stuff like that and not shit that actually breaks your heart.

A fat raindrop plops cold on your shoulder. You wince. “Oh, fuck— I gotta go.”

“Let me take you,” Steve offers without thinking twice.

You stumble back when he steps towards you, shaking your head to dismiss him. “No. It’s okay.”

“C’mon. Just let me drive you home—”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not letting you walk in the rain.”

“It’ll be okay—”

“You’ll freeze.”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “It’ll be better than what Billy does to me if he finds out I was alone with Steve The Hair Harrington.”

You say it like it’s a joke, and it isn’t, really, but Steve isn’t laughing anyway. His chiseled features twist in concern, like your words have somehow pained him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you answer, perhaps too quickly, laughing as you shake your head. “It was just— It was a stupid joke. I’m just being dramatic.”

“Are you saying he’ll hit you?” he wonders in a quiet murmur, far too somber than you’d like.

“No— what? No!” you stammer quickly, face as screwed up as his scruffy one. You start to ramble before you realize it. “Billy isn’t like that, okay? He’s just— He’s a fucking baby, and he’s dramatic, and I’d love to go one day without being fucking gaslit. That’s all. I’d rather just freeze on my ten-minute walk back home than have him berate me about hanging out with my ex.”

A few more raindrops fall. Spots of ashy gravel turn to a darker shade of grey. 

Steve grows quiet, letting the gentle cadence of water on tin roofs fill the silence. His chest aches all over again. He can’t decide if he’s sad for you or angry at Billy or grieving that he ever let you go in the first place. Maybe a mix of all three.

His hands tremble with the intensity of the swirling emotions, but it’s still in his nature to be soft with you.

“Do you wanna come inside?” he wonders, nodding back towards the trailer.

“To Eddie’s?”

“Yeah.”

“…No,” you answer with the shake of your head, face twisted like the offer offends you. It does, but only because you’re almost sure Eddie hates you now. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. If your best friend chose some asshole over you, you’d hate them too.

“No?”

“I haven’t talked to him in forever— I haven’t talked to any of you in forever.”

“It’s okay,” Steve nods, so gentle it makes you writhe.

“No, it’s not, Steve. I ditched all of you. I was awful to you.”

You don’t want his gentleness. You want him to hate you. You don’t deserve his warmth or the one inside Eddie’s trailer, practically aglow with the laughter of all the friends you left behind. You deserve the isolation. You deserve to stand in the rain and freeze.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, a newfound insistence in his tone like he wants you to really hear him. His bushy brows raise and his honey eyes sparkle, golden even in the grey. “We know why. We know it’s not your fault.”

You falter, swallowing through a closing throat. “You do?”

“Yeah. And we don’t— we don’t blame you for it, okay? For any of it. We miss you, actually.”

The crooked pink grin he flashes should comfort you, but it only makes you shrink inside yourself. “You’re just saying that,” you murmur, disbelieving and dripping with self-loathe.

“Ask Robin if you don’t believe me,” Steve tells you, smiling wider now. “Actually, she was just talking about how making fun of me isn’t as fun without you.”

You don’t want to believe him, but you glow with the faint hope that he’s telling the truth, anyway. 

“Really?”

“Really,” the boy nods, then grimaces when the light rain grows suddenly heavier. His brows scrunch as he holds out an arm towards you. “Screw your boyfriend, okay? Just come inside. We can take care of everything else after.”

You want so desperately to take the hand he holds out for you. Your fingers twitch at your side with the longing to hold him, but you don’t let yourself — even though it goes against all your human instincts not to. 

You’re made slightly braver than he had said we. “We can take care of that later,” he’d promised, a subtle assurance that you aren’t as alone in all this as you feel. But you often feel like you’re a black hole at times — you don’t want to suck anyone else into the mess you’re in.

“I don’t know…” you waver, teeth threatening to chatter when a breeze makes the rain colder.

“C’mon, before both of us get soaked—” Steve laughs when it starts to rain harder. All the clouds begin to pour at once. You rush to him before you can think twice about it. His palm is warm at the small of your back when he ushers you towards the trailer.

Beneath the high-pitched squeaking of the screen door, you hear Steve mumble behind you. “Dustin’s gonna fucking flip when he sees you.”

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 9: Heard Any Good Rumors Lately?

Prompt: "Don't listen to me, listen to them"

Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Jealousy in season 6 when Diana can't wait to share a rumor with Scully... Rating: T, wc: 1,552

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

When the restroom door opens, she’s just finished washing her hands, observing her face in the mirror in front of her. Scully glances over and is disappointed, but not surprised, to see Diana Fowley there. Her nose itches when she catches a whiff of her perfume.

“Good afternoon, Agent Scully,” she says, standing right beside her at the sink, her face close to the mirror.

“Good afternoon,” she replies, intending to leave, but Diana blocks her way.

“Have you heard?” she asks and Scully is genuinely taken aback.

“Heard what?” It doesn’t take long for her to regret asking. Diana’s expression turns from a small, polite smile into a huge smirk, and Scully knows by now that it’s never a good sign.

“About Fox.” At first, she thinks something must have happened. Her heart gallops in her chest and she wants to ask Diana where he is, how bad it is, and how quickly she can get to him. But if something had happened to Mulder, the other woman wouldn’t be grinning. Even she isn’t that cruel.

“Enlighten me.” She puts her hands on her hips, hoping Diana can’t see them shaking.

“The rumor is-,” Diana steps closer to her, invading her personal space. As if she were a friend or a confidant. “That our dear Fox is in love.”

Once, when she was barely a teen, wearing her first bra that she thought would finally draw boys’ attention to her, Melissa stormed into her room, revealing that she'd just kissed Parker McMann - the boy Dana had had a secret crush on all summer. She stammered a ‘good for you’ before she broke into tears. It had seemed like the end of the world. Melissa held her, dried her tears, and promised her baby sister that she’d never again kiss a boy she liked. A promise she'd kept. Diana’s words now cut just as deep. It can’t be true. Deep in her heart, Scully knows it. This is just a sick joke Diana is playing. She knows how to push her buttons. She thinks of Mulder, of the last few days, the last week. Rationally, it just doesn’t make any sense. She arches an eyebrow in disbelief, nevertheless intrigued.

“You’re wondering who it is, don’t you?” The smirk on her face is by now a permanent fixture. “So did I. Here I was thinking, hmm, isn’t Fox spending all his time with the delectable Agent Scully? Imagine my surprise when I find out that the woman who’s captured his heart isn’t you.”

She’s 13 years old again, but this time there’s no one here to comfort her, to hold her hand and make promises. She puts on her bravest face and digs her fingers into her skin, the pain a welcome distraction. It can’t be, she reminds herself. Cause whatever game Diana is playing, part of what she’s saying is true: She and Mulder have been spending all their time together.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Diana.” Her voice is steadier than she thought possible.

“Don’t listen to me,” the other woman says and puts her arm around Scully. It’s not a friendly gesture; she holds her in place, one hand on her back. In the same place where Mulder’s hand always is. Her skin prickles and everything inside her screams to get away. “Listen to them,” Diana whispers into her ear.

Before Scully can ask her what and who she means, she hears it: women’s voices. They’re loud and giggly, in full gossip mode.

“I could not believe it,” one of the voices says. “Fox Mulder is dating! I thought he and his partner-”

“What, Agent Scully? No, they’re just friends.” Loud laughter rings in Scully’s ear.

“She’s not his type at all, is she?” Another voice asks, and the round of laughter seems to agree with that assessment.

“He’s such a cutie and deserves someone who’s not as…”

“Cold?” asks someone else, voicing what Scully is feeling. Cold. She’s shivering, frozen in Diana’s grasp.

“Well, you tried, didn’t you?” Diana’s voice is too close and too sugary; she feels dizzy and stumbles when Diana’s arms let go of her. With a wink, she disappears into one of the stalls, right as the group of women steps into the restroom, still giggling.

“Agent Scully,” one of them says with a curt nod. Scully, pretending she hasn’t heard a single word, nods back. As soon as she’s out in the hall, the laughter returns. She can’t get away fast enough. By now, she imagines, Diana has joined in.

In her haste to flee, she doesn’t notice Mulder walking toward her and crashes right into him.

“Missed me?” he jokes, but his smile falls away as soon as he sees her face. “Hey Scully, what happened?”

“Nothing,” she says in a small voice, picking up her pace again with Mulder on her heels.

“Something happened, Scully. I can see it on your face.” This is Mulder. Half an hour ago, she wouldn't have thought twice about seeking solace in his friendship. Now? After what she’s just had to witness, and hear, she wants to lick her wounds in peace. But Mulder doesn’t let go of her. As soon as his hand lands on her back where Diana touched her less than ten minutes ago, she crumbles.

“Hey, hey.” Before she knows what’s happening, Mulder has engulfed her in his arms, holding her close to him. His heart is racing against her ear. “Scully, please tell me what happened. Please.” But she stays quiet, allowing herself this moment.

“Let’s go back to the office, hm?” His arm remains around her as he leads her to their basement office. With her eyes kept down, she doesn’t see if anyone’s giving them looks. She can’t see – or hear – any more today.

“Can you please tell me now what happened? You went to get a coffee and now you’re crying. Who do I have to hurt?” He accentuates his attempt at humor with a smile.

“Yourself,” she says without thinking.

“I- what?”

“It doesn’t matter, Mulder. Your private life is your private life. I was just surprised that- you should know that the rumor mill is well oiled.”

“Rumor mill? I think you’ve lost me.”

“People know,” she says simply, leaning against the side of the desk, trying to regain her composure. Mulder doesn’t owe her an explanation, but she thought they were friends. There have been moments when she thought they were more than that.

“Can I be people? Cause I feel like I don’t know anything.”

“About your girlfriend.”

“About my what?” he has the audacity to laugh.

“Your girlfriend. Or partner, whatever term you use.” Lover, she thinks. Mulder’s lover. She blushes, having to remind herself that it’s not her. That it won’t be her.

“You’re my only partner, Scully. I don’t know what you heard, or whoever said what, but I can assure you that I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“But Diana said-”

“Since when do you believe anything Diana says?” he asks with a laugh.

“She was very convincing. So were the other women.”

“The other-,” Mulder trails off and shakes his head. “I don’t even want to know. But I think I know what happened.” Scully raises an eyebrow, her heart doing silly things again. Only this time, she doesn’t mind.

“So the other day Diana propositioned me,” Mulder says and as if knowing what saying something like that might do to her, he steps into her space. “And I politely told her no, thank you, no interest. Diana isn’t someone who likes hearing the word no, though. So I told her a little white lie. It’s not even a lie when you think about it. I said I was interested in someone else. She asked me who, and I said she doesn’t know her. Which is the truth.”

“I see,” Scully says quietly, reading between the lines. There is someone Mulder is interested in and it still isn’t her.

“You know why I said it?” Mulder’s voice is close to her face now, warm and gentle. “Cause she doesn’t know you at all. The real you. ” Her eyes grow wide when she registers what he just said. She regards him, searching for a twitch around his lips, any indication that he’s messing with her. But there isn’t.

“So whatever lies and rumors Diana is spinning,” he says, leaning even closer, “don’t listen to her. I didn’t know she’d corner you. I should have known better. Sometimes she still surprises me – and not in a good way.”

“I feel so silly,” Scully admits.

“Don’t,” Mulder says, his thumb stroking her cheek. “It’s cute.”

“Mulder…”

“No, it is. Makes it easier for me to���,” he doesn’t finish whatever he means to say and instead kisses her right where his thumb has just been. “Been wanting to do that for a while. We’re not giving Diana credit for this, all right?” His smile is warm and tender. How could she have doubted him for even a second?

“We won’t.” And against her better judgment, she leans forward, pressing a promising kiss to his lips. Just as she’s debating whether they should throw caution to the wind altogether, the door opens, and Diana walks in and the smirk slips off her face.

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 11- Smile

FICTOBER Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

1.3k

Warnings- incubus/succubus, smut, threesome mention/ sex w other people mention, mmf/ffm mention, demons, blood, halloween etc

“It’s never a good thing when you smile like that…” Y/N whispered as she tugged her partner’s arm towards her, eyes narrowed in humorous speculation as she watched his smirk grow. The club was dark and foggy from that god awful fog machine the hired DJ had brought, the scents mixing in the room making her want to plug her nose. 

Halloween made it much easier for them to be their authentic selves. Harry and Y/N often had to hide their eyes, curtain them with human presenting ones when they went out to search for trouble. Tonight, Halloween night, had to be the best of the year. Mischief and sex, costumes galore, sin city personified. Their black eyes were assumed contacts, Y/N’s sharp black nails dragging over the front of Harry’s chest. A short black skirt barely covered her thighs and a lacy black corset top was doing little to hide her swirls of black markings down her neck and back. Harry’s were slightly more hidden, but his form always got attention. It’s what made them so good at what they did. 

Succubus and Incubus. 

“It’s a good thing you love to be bad, isn’t it my love?”

Y/N chuckled, trailing her fingers up his bare skin and catching his jaw, nails digging into the skin as she turned it back towards him. “What’s the point of wearing a shirt if you’re barely going to button it, hm?” She squeezed his face, her own saucy smile rising on her lips. “Who’s caught your eye, darling? Someone pretty that we can feed on?” Her eyes met his, reading that he had done exactly that. 

When they normally went on the prowl, they’d take their time- but it was like a buffet tonight. People ready and willing, eyeing both of them up. They were made for pure sexual attraction, humans being drawn to them like a magic spell as their energy infiltrated a space. To be chosen by both of them? The human would have stories for days. Being in a threesome with two of the best looking people they’d ever seen, bragging rights for days. They wouldn’t miss the blood that either of them took, nor would they mind their sexual energy being feasted on. For humans, it was a magical experience. No loss, no hurt, only one of the most pleasurable and euphoric experiences of their lives. The haze would follow them for days and they’d feel their touches for weeks on end, but it wasn’t harmful. Wistful, perhaps.

 The only drawback? No one would ever compare. 

They’d search the world for a human who’s cock was able to press right into that spot like Harry’s had, someone’s tongue that swirled around their most sensitive bit the way Y/N’s did, desperate for a taste of either of them, but they wouldn’t. Not unless they came about another of their kind. 

Their routine varied, as Harry claimed that ‘Variety is the spice of the afterlife’. Sometimes her chose, sometimes she did. It wasn’t like there was a lack of interested participants who approached them either. But Halloween was a night that all sorts of guidelines were lifted, and their rule for only having one encounter a day was lifted. With the ability to keep the spread of diseases, they didn’t have to wait to leave from one club to another, working on their third now. The high was lifting them up, their first two playmates safely tucked in cabs to get back home and surely sleeping off the exhaustion they had given them. 

“Show me, H. I chose last time, so it’s your turn now.” She watched his eyes flutter shut as she dragged her nails back down his throat to rest at his chest, a subtle growl leaving his throat. He loved pain, loved her nails, and his one and only soul mate. The sex with others was fun and games, a way to provide energy, but his real lifeforce was loving his sweet goddess. No one would ever compare to her, to the way she made him feel both inside and out of the bedroom. 

There was a difference between fucking for fun and for their needs, versus the love they made to one another. Their lovemaking varied between soft, soppy morning sex to bloody, rough, primal sex. There was no doubting what they preferred, and it was always each other. His arm wrapped around her waist, swinging her swiftly in front of him as he dipped his face to press cheek to cheek. “The one in the little devil costume.” He murmured, brushing his cock against her ass. “We did an angel earlier, but I’d like to see what the little devil has in store. Bet it’ll be a lot of fun, don’t you think?” He brushed his lips against her cheek, pecking it lightly. “Messy girl. Still have a bit of blood on you.” Swiftly, his tongue licked against the corner of her lips and hummed before tightening his grip on her. “We’re only halfway through the night. Already getting messy for me?” He clicked his tongue at her, feeling her eye roll despite knowing her arousal was at the top. 

“It’s the one day we can be. I can get blood all over my outfit and no one will blink an eye, think m’just a sexy creature.” She laughed, turning in his strong arms to peer up at him. “You know how much I love a mess, but you’re worse than me, aren’t you?” Her thumb was gentle now, brushing his bottom lip. It was still swollen and some of her lipstick stained them a cherry red, enhancing his pale skin even more. His clean shaven jaw was sharp as a tack and his white teeth tried to nip at the pad of her thumb playfully, but she was too quick. Her man was too handsome for his own good. “Mm… I know you love to bury your tongue in holes, any of them, and get all wet.” She had seen it firsthand just 30 minutes ago, the woman writhing under them as Y/N sat pretty on her face and watched Harry lose himself in the taste of their new friend.  “I can still smell that girl on you. She was a fun one, wasn’t she? Had to revoke those wings as soon as you touched her.” She purred, wrapping an arm over his neck. “And you love when they choke on your cock. The other boy I chose did such a nice job taking you into his throat, hm? Amazed him a little with how much you can cum… All over his face, and his ass too.  So don’t tease when you’re just as bad as me.” Her voice floated to him, making him groan. His cock was against her tummy this time, perpetually hard and her words only made it worse. “And if you want to take care of the hard time you’re currently having, throbbing against me, you better go pick up our playmate and bring them back to me.” Her hand slipped rom his neck, dow between them and cupping his erection. 

His cock was her favorite and alway would be. Perfectly thick and curved, she’d never met a person who didn’t like it, but to her it was perfection. Her prized possession. Having a soulbond with someone who pressed right where she needed, that filled her up to the brim and fucked her good enough to have her growling was all she needed.  Leaning up, her lips pressed against his own with a soft ‘pop’ as she pulled away, not getting too carried away yet. “Go on, pretty boy. Since you know how much I love to be bad… get us a slice of our trouble for the night. We’ve got so many more friends to meet.”

[val-creative]

Fictober Day 17: "strangest thing I ever heard"

Harry/Luna

For @fictober-event's Day 17 prompt!

Type: Fanfiction | Fandom: Harry Potter | Ship: Harry James Potter/Luna Lovegood | Warnings & Triggers: Past Character Death

---

On the outskirts of the tree-line, not deep in enough to be breaking the rules about the Forbidden Forest, Harry stands alongside a... friend. Well, he's supposing Luna may be a friend if she believes him and Mr Lovegood believing Harry about Voldemort returning.

"If it's alright, I mean..." Harry mumbles, toeing out of his shoes. "They're, um, not going to fit, but... you can warm your feet a little."

Luna's strange, silver eyes fixate on him. "Are you sure, Harry Potter?"

"Sure. Have at it." He gestures offhandedly. "I've got my socks."

One-by-one, she places her bare, pale-looking feet into Harry's school shoes. Clots of dirt tumble off. "The ground can be cold and wet this early. You might ruin them," Luna points out, her tone airy.

Harry glances up, meeting Luna's unrelenting but solemnly thoughtful expression. For once, he doesn't mind any staring on him.

"D'you remember loads about your mother then?" he asks.

"I do," Luna replies softly, finally blinking. "I also remember seeing your eyes in the old photos Dad locked away after her passing."

Harry hesitates.

"My... eyes?"

"She has your eyes." At Luna's explanation, something inside of his chest flutters. "Lily Evans. Her name is written on the back of the photos with my mum's with a date. Though I suppose she would be Potter now... since she married your dad and you were born, and all."

Harry nods, feeling lightheaded for a moment. "That may be the strangest thing I ever heard," he blurts out, and Luna's mouth quirks.

"Mm. I have been told so."

"Told what?"

"How I talk or what I talk about being strange to others. Often not very kindly." Luna adjusts her shoulder-bag when Harry's eyebrows droop and his expression frowns. "Don't worry. You were kind, I think."

Behind them, a gathering of Thestrals feast on the handful of Luna brought. She is strange. Harry doesn't consider her strangeness bad.

"M'glad," Harry mumbles, staring ahead and letting the quiet in.

[marvelslut16]

The Incident

Prompt number: 14 "If you don't stop now-"

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing. Cannon typical gore- but not too detailed. Insecure reader. Mean Steve. Nightmares. Demodogs. Embarrassing parents.

A/N: This bad boy has been sitting in my drafts for over a year now, I'm so glad I found the motivation to finish it and post it for Fictober!

You’re leaned up against the counter at family video as Steve complains for what feels like the thousandth time about how much he misses Nancy. You roll your eyes at Robin who’s standing behind the counter as Steve’s voice carries over the shelves of the empty store. The entire time you’ve known Steve he’s been obsessed with Nancy, and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. She’s not that special and she clearly doesn’t love him. 

“You’re such a masochist,” you sigh when he comes back to the counter to get more VHS’ to put away. 

“A what?” his voice is hard, he’s confused by the word but he knows the implication is insulting. 

“A masochist, it means you like pain and humiliation,” Steve is glaring at you, and not a playful one you're used to, this one is full of hatred. You know you should stop, especially with the look he’s giving you, but your mouth has a mind of its own and it just keeps talking. “I mean seriously, that's the only reason I can think of that you’re still acting like this. Nancy’s with Jonathan, she’s in love with him. Hence why she’s visiting him in California over break right now. She’s also told me that she doesn’t want kids and you’ve said more than once that you want your own little basketball team, you two will never work out. I don’t mean to be rude or mean in any way, I just don’t want you to keep hurting yourself over someone who isn’t into you.”

“I don’t know why you think I’d take relationship advice from someone who’s never been in one. You were a nobody before I met you, and let’s face it, you’re still a nobody now,” you can feel tears welling up at his words, but you refuse to cry in front of him, refuse to give him the satisfaction of your tears. It hurts so much because he’s voicing your inner fears, he must not be lying if he feels how you imagined he must be feeling. “The only reason you have friends is because you clung to us after the whole demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.”

“Steve!” Robin jumps in, seeing the hurt on your face and the tears in your eyes. She knows Steve is only lashing out because you’re right and he doesn’t want to admit it, but she can also tell that he’s about to lose your friendship. “If you don’t stop now-”

“It’s fine Robin,” you can’t muster a voice louder than a whisper. “Steve’s right, I have no room to talk. My break at the arcade is almost over, so I better get going.”

You spend the rest of your shift behind the counter as silent tears slip down your cheeks. Steve’s words replaying in your head over and over again, your heart fracturing more and more each time. You’re disappointed, but not surprised, when Steve doesn’t stop in to check on you and apologize when his shift is over. You know Robin would have stopped in to talk, had Steve not been driving her home after work. 

The next few days are a blur of tears and work. You don’t go over to family video once, and he doesn’t come to the arcade. Robin calls you every night to try and get you to open up about your feelings, but you never do. You wish she would just let it go and let you go back to not having friends, just like Steve said. And when the party, minus Mike- who’s still in California, come into the arcade and you hope they won’t notice you. 

“Hey (Y/N)!” Dustin spots you almost instantly, you sigh at the promise of his meddling. “Are we still on for movie night this weekend? Forcing Steve to watch the best trilogy known to man?”

“I can’t this weekend Dustin,” your heart hurts a little when the boy's excited grin turns into a frown. But you have to remind yourself that none of them actually care for you, they only include you in things because you’ve forced yourself on them. 

“Okay, when are you free next week?” he tries to reschedule, but you won’t fall for his caring act.

“I’m not, school starts back up next week and I won’t have time between that and work to have a movie night. You two have it without me, you’ll probably have more fun anyway.”

Dustin walks away confused and dejected, but there isn’t much else for you to say. It’s awkward the rest of your shift, the party spending all day there, where they throw glances your way the whole time. As if your day couldn’t get any worse, when your mom picks you up from work, she wants to go to Family Video and rent a movie for family night this weekend. 

“So you’re Steve and Robin?” your mom asks, setting Back To The Future on the counter. It took her twenty long minutes to decide on a movie that she’s already rented, twice. 

“Yes ma’am,” Robin answers, using her professional voice. You take small steps back, seeing the writing on the wall, you desperately want to get out of there before she can continue. 

“Well I’ll be,” your mom lets out a little laugh. “When my (Y/N) said she was friends with the Robin and Steve that work here, I never would have guessed she meant Steve Harrington, former star of the Hawkins basketball and Swim teams.”

“(Y/N/N) is great,” Steve says awkwardly, like he’s trying to force something nice about you out. “We’ve been friends for a few years now.”

“Mom, can we go now?” you practically beg, wanting nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

“C’mon sweetie, I’m just trying to meet your friends,” she turns back to the two behind the counter. “She just goes on and on about you two, all good things of course! I’m just so happy she’s made such good friends.”

“Okay mom,” you whine, taking another step back. “You’ve embarrassed me enough, let's just hurry up and rent the movie.”

Thankfully, Robin takes pity on you and quickly starts ringing your mother up, but not without trying to upsell her some candy because it will give her a commission. Your mom finally settles on buying some Sno Caps, and you can practically taste sweet freedom as she hands Robin some cash. But Steve ruins that when he opens his big fat- gorgeous- mouth. 

“(Y/N/N), we finally got Fright Night in, if you still want to rent it,” you wrinkle your nose, it was a movie you were supposed to watch with him and Robin, far far away from your parents. 

“That horror movie?” your mom asks in disgust, giving you an obvious look of disappointment. “She’s not allowed to watch horror movies, especially not with all of her nightmares!”

“Mom, please,” you mutter, trying to pull her away from the counter, away from Steve, and out of the damn store.

“Nightmares?” Steve asks, his face instantly softening. “You’ve never told me about your nightmares.”

“She wakes up screaming about some stupid dogs,” your mother tells him, and your eyes well up with tears of embarrassment. “It’s every single night.”

Steve’s words from earlier this week play in your head on repeat ‘you clung to us after the demodog incident, you didn’t give us a choice.’ It feels like all of the air is being sucked out of your lungs as your mom reveals your deepest darkest secret- one she’ll never understand. She’ll never understand what it was like that day, wandering through the woods when all of a sudden this dog-like creature with a cone head is standing in front of you and its face opening like a deadly flower. She’ll never know what it was like being knocked off her feet when that thing jumped on her and only being saved at the very last minute when the King of Hawkins himself whacked that thing off with a nailed bat. She’ll never know what it was like to be that close to death, that close to just being another Barb, disappearing without a trace.

Of course it haunts you, it was a near death experience, and you certainly can’t talk to a professional about it. No one would believe you, and they would probably lock you up in some mental institution if you ever muttered a word of it. You do your best to forget it day in and day out, but every time night rolls around you always remember every single detail; like how hot the demodogs breath was, or how many rows of teeth it had, how heavy it was on top of you.

“I’m gonna go now,” you hold back the tears as you race out the movie store’s front door. You can feel the burning gazes of both Steve and Robin on your retreating figure, but you can’t be by them. You can’t explain this to them. You’re going to have to move within the next day or two so you don’t have to face them ever again. 

The ride home from the movie store is dead silent, not even an apology from your mother for telling your friends about your nightmares. All you get from her are side eyes and glares, you can tell she’s silent seething because you were planning to disobey her and watch a horror movie. What she doesn’t understand is that horror movies help, the fake gore and the illogical plots somehow comfort you and make you feel better about what you’ve gone through. 

You go straight to your room, forgoing dinner to just sob into your pillow. Not only have you lost your friends, but now they know just how pathetic you truly are. All you have are nightmare after nightmare, waking up screaming and crying more times than you can count. This time Steve doesn’t come to rescue you, he just stares from the sidelines with that same glare he gave you the day of the fight, and no one else tries to step in and help you. You’re all alone. 

No matter how bad of a night you had, or how much you begged to stay home from work, your mother forced you to go. She drives you there and waits outside until you go in, you can see through the windows that she waited a whole five minutes before leaving so you can’t sneak out. The drive over she was going on and on about responsibility and being an adult, and how you can’t just bail on your duties because you had one bad night. You would’ve come to work today no problem, tired but with no complaints, if the Arcade wasn’t right next to Family Video. Right next to Steve. 

Most of your day goes smoothly, just rowdy preteens playing the twenty arcade games you have squished in there, nothing horrible happening. That is until around two in the afternoon when the door jingles and your eyes zero in on that unmistakable hair in the doorway. You contemplate running and hiding in the back room, but losing your job for leaving the floor unmanned is the last thing you want or need to add to the very large load of crap your life is becoming. 

Even if you had decided to hide in the back room, Steve is in front of you at the counter quicker than you could have hid. You refuse to look him in the eye, instead looking at the shiny nametag glinting in the few overhead lights. He stares at you for what feels like forever before finally sighing and then talking.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have nightmares?” he cuts right to the chase,, his voice is monotonous and you can’t tell if he’s trying to sympathize with you or come off condescending. 

“We all have our secrets,” you sneer, not understanding why he’s being nice to you all of a sudden. “It’s not like you care, so just drop it.”

“You don’t mean that-” you cut him off with a glare, finally looking into his puppy dog eyes. The ones you used to melt in every time he looked at you.

“Like hell I don’t!” you whisper harshly, not trying to draw attention from the kids in the Arcade. “You don’t care. Steve. So for both of our sakes, please stop pretending like you do. What I said the other day was harsh, but I meant it from a place of love and caring. What you said the other day was a low blow and said to hurt me. Let’s just go back to how things used to be, neither of us acknowledging that the other exists.”

You turn to go hide in the back room, job security be damned, you just need to get away from Steve. He can’t see you cry over him, you refuse to let him. But his hand catches your wrist, spinning you around to face him again.

“I do care about you (Y/N), and I didn’t mean what I said,” he grips your hand harder, pulling you closer to the class case that divides you. “I was embarrassed because you were right, you always are, and I wasn’t ready to hear it. If I could go back and keep myself from saying those things, I would do it in a heartbeat!”

“Your life will be just fine without me, and soon enough you’ll just forget about me, I’ll just be that girl you see around town, the one you used to know.”

“No it won’t, don’t say that!” Steve cups your face, making sure you make eye contact with him before continuing. “Life without you would suck, it would be so boring. What would I do without that adorable little giggle you make when I tell a horrible joke? Or the way you ramble excitedly about the things you love? Or the cute way you scrunch your nose when you're confused or embarrassed? What would I do without your goodnight calls and our coordinated lunch breaks? How would I survive without you lighting up every single room you walk in? Without you lighting up my life? You’re everything to me (Y/N), and I’m sorry it took me losing you to realize it. And if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you for what I said and doing my best to scare away those nightmares.”

“Do you really mean that?” you sniffle, a single tear falling from your eye. 

“I do, I mean it,” Steve says with so much conviction as he wipes the tear from your cheek. “I love you. Not Nancy, you. It’ll always be you.”

“I love you too, I always have,” your wet laugh is cut off by a searing kiss.  

[reluctant-mandalore]

🍂 Fictober 🍂 Day 1: Cold Weather (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)

During the chilly fall season on a new planet, you go on an afternoon outing with the Mandalorian and his son. Though of course you forgot your coat.

Warnings: Fluff, found family, crushes, pre-relationship, little bit of flirting, not beta read Word Count: 1771 Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader a/n: I slept for most of the first day and then my back was achy when I was trying to edit this. So its late. But it's here. And thats all that matters. Enjoy a fall afternoon outing with our fave clan of two. Day 2's prompt should be out later today (hopefully lmao).

“Grogu, we’ve been over this, you need to wear your coat.”

The child had huffed at the Mandalorian’s words. His large ears lowering, as he frowned and shook his head. You had watched them be trapped in this standoff for quite some time now. Neither father nor son wanted to budge. It was starting to get colder on this planet in recent days. But despite the chill—and despite his fathers lecturing—the little one had been determined to take his coat off any chance he got.

This had been his third time taking off the coat while hoping that neither of you would notice. Din had always been overprotective though, and he had been even more observant. He always had a keen eye for noticing these things, and there was nothing the child—or you—could seem to get past him.

“It’s getting colder out, and I don’t want you getting sick.” Din had tried reasoning with him. “You don’t want to get sick. Right kid?”

Grogu had huffed again. He pouted up to his father before trying to look past him over to you sitting on the bench nearby. Clearly he hoped to rally in your support to his losing battle, and most days those wide pleading eyes of his would convince you to his side in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for the child though, today you found yourself agreeing with the Mandalorian. As you had also caught yourself wishing you had remembered to bring your own coat this chilly afternoon.

Discovering that you wouldn’t be helping him, Grogu had huffed one more time, before finally allowing Din to bundle him back in the coat. The pout he wore as his father buttoned him up making you want to chuckle.

“See? It’s not so bad.” Din had patted the little one’s head after he finished with the last button. Although Grogu only sent a frown back his way, before toddling off back to the leaf pile he was playing in earlier.

The Mandalorian had watched Grogu from where he kneeled for a moment. Though soon he had stood to come back and sit next to you on the bench. He had given you a small nod as he sat, and you had returned it with your own smile. A comfortable silence had fallen between you two then, as you watched the child explore and play in the little clearing. Despite not being pleased with the coat he wore, Grogu still seemed to be enjoying himself at least. He had been throwing leaves here and there. Giggling and laughing to himself as he did so.

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t want to wear it.” After some time Din had been the first to speak, as he shifted a bit awkwardly next to you. “He was so happy picking it out in the market a few days ago, but now he wants nothing to do with it.”

You gave him a shrug. “He’s probably just not used to it—that’s all—give him some time.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, sometimes kids are just picky with these things.” You said smiling again as you watched the child chase down a frog, struggling to keep up in his puffy jacket. “He’ll get used to it eventually.”

Din had let out a bitter sigh, but you could hear the smile in his words. “Yeah you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

He had snorted at that reply, and quickly the two of you fell back into silence. The only sound once again being that of the child's happy geal and the birds singing their sweet tunes. Another breeze had swept through, rustling the leaves and sending an icy chill to roll down your spine. Once again you had found yourself wishing you hadn’t forgotten your own coat, as you shivered and shuddered with every gust of wind that passed.

“Cold?” Din’s question had nearly made you jump, and you looked over to find him looking at you with a tilt of his helmet.

“A little.” You admitted with another shiver, now feeling a bit embarrassed while under the Mandalorian’s gaze. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this cold when we left earlier.”

He had hummed in understanding and went back to watching the child for a moment. You went back to doing so as well. Thinking that had been the end of the discussion, though soon the heavy weight that rested over your shoulders proved otherwise. The cape—his cape—that he tucked around your shivering form had enveloped you in an instant warmth. The cozy fabric making itself the perfect barrier for you from cold.

No wonder he wore this thing all the time—it was stylish and warm.

“There.” He murmured in a hushed tone, as he smoothed out some of the wrinkles in the fabric, and adjusted it around you a little more snuggly. “That should help you stay warm.”

“Thank you.” Your voice had struggled to speak, as you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow shy.

Din had been so close to you as he fixed the cape. His leg had brushed with yours at every movement, and if it weren’t for the helmet that shielded his face, you would have felt how his breath fanned your cheeks. He hadn’t seemed to realize it though until the two of you shared a glance. Your eyes locked to one another, and mere inches apart. Only then did he seem to catch himself. Clearing his throat as he pulled away and averted his gaze. A mumbled apology quickly leaving him as he did.

“Keep it till we get back.” He didn’t dare look at you as he spoke, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly. Although you couldn’t help but notice how his leg still seemed to brush with yours every now and then. “I don’t need you getting sick either.”

You only nodded. Smiling to yourself a little, and snuggling further into the cape. Your heart feeling like it would jump out of your chest at any moment.

“You know…” He continued quietly, his voice trailing and words a bit teasing, as he had looked at you from the corner of his eye with the tilt of his helmet. “You’re just like the kid with not wanting to wear a coat.”

You gave a little laugh at his words, unable to deny his claim. “Guess I’m a bad influence then, huh?”

“No. I wouldn’t say that.” He shook his head while giving a small chuckle himself, and glancing away from you to watch the child again. “I’d say the opposite actually. You’re a great influence on the kid.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! He adores you…” Din had almost seemed to pause in thought before allowing himself to finish. “We both adore you. Things wouldn’t be the same without you around.”

There was another flutter in your chest at his words, and suddenly it wasn’t just the cape that gave you warmth. The two of you had looked to one another, unable to stop yourselves from leaning closer, as the air between you had seemed to shift. It had been hard to deny the feelings that both of you were beginning to feel for one another lately. And moments like these had only seemed to make it even harder.

“Patuu!”

The sound from Grogu had broken you both from the trance, and you both looked to find him standing before you two now. The smile he wore bright, as he held out his hands for you to see what he had found. It had been acorns—of course—the child had been fascinated with them since arriving to this planet.

“Oh! Is this for me?” The child had beamed up at you at the question when you realized he held one out to you, and with a smile you took the acorn. “What a lovely little acorn! Thank you Grogu.”

Grogu had let out a happy noise at your acceptance of his gift. His eyes bright with excitement as he watched you look over the acorn. Pleased with seeing your approval, he glanced at the other acorn still in his hand, and then looked to the Mandalorian at your side.

“Do I get one too?” Din seemed to perk up, but any hope he had died quickly as Grogu soon sent a glare his way at the question, before turning to waddle rather grumpily away back to his leaf pile.

“I think he’s still mad about the coat.” You barely managed to stop the laugh that threatened to spill from your lips at the sight.

“Yeah.” The Mandalorian almost sounded like he had been pouting, and based on how his shoulders had sunk you wouldn’t put him past it. “I guess he is”

“Oh don’t worry Din.” You patted his shoulder gently. Trying to reassure him.“He’ll forgive you soon.”

“He can be pretty stubborn.” He mumbled back. Sounding utterly defeated.

You gave a teasing hum. Nudging him with your arm a little. “He’s just like his dad then.”

“I’m not stubborn.” He had tried to argue, but any defense he had fell quickly at the look you sent his way. “I’m only stubborn when I need to be.”

The two of you shared another small laugh at that before falling back into that familiar silence and watching over the child play. The three of you would spend the rest of the afternoon out there. Only leaving when Din would finally decide it had been time to pack up, and head back to the ships. Grogu had almost fought with him over it, but unlike with the coat, he had quickly been won over with the promise of food.

Though it wouldn’t be until the next day where the little one would finally seem to have forgiven his father. This time when you three went to leave for the afternoon outing he did not fight the Mandalorian over the coat. Instead he let his father bundle him up with little complaint. Babbling in bits of gibberish, and pulling out the acorn he had found the other day. Handing it to Din with a bright smile before immediately waddling off in the direction of the clearing.

“See, Din?” You smiled at him, as you both began walking to follow behind the child. “I told you he’d forgive you.”

He had looked over the acorn. The smile he wore hidden behind the helmet. “Yeah, you were right.”

“I usually am.” You had gone to laugh, but an icy breeze had swept through as you spoke, and instead you could only seem to shiver while Din had chuckled.

Of course you had forgotten your coat again.

[allzelemonz]

Rebound: Dutch Van der Linde X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 15, Noncon/Rape Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’ and holds a generally masculine mindset given the circumstances Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Rape, grief, drinking, mentions of Annabelle’s death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, hints of victim blaming because Dutch is an ass, threats, semi-public sex, hand jobs, anal fingering, anal sex, marking, neck kissing, slight cum fixation, vomiting, crying, Dutch is such a bad person in this one dude, shifting perspective Summary: After losing someone he loves, Dutch drinks to forget and gets an idea in his drunken mind when he spots a man he likes the look of.

The drinks make his head fuzzy. Dutch has long sent Hosea back to camp, wanting nothing more than to drink by himself until the sun comes up. All he could see was her lying dead on the grass, dignity nowhere left. For a while all he could do was hold her, then all he wanted was kill Colm for doing this. But the drinks help. The drinks let him think of other things. Anything but her.

And that’s why his eyes wander to a man he sees on the street when he stumbles out of the saloon.

The bartender had kicked him out for some reason, he doesn’t remember why. But it doesn’t matter now. He doesn’t need drinks when he can have someone like that. Someone to fuck hard between the buildings of the sickening little town to take his mind off of…

So he follows the man, his head still fogged and his steps uneasy, but he lumbers along well enough to turn the corner just a few feet behind the man. A sober Dutch wouldn’t admit that he may have done this before, a drunk Dutch almost craves it. And even with such an unkempt head, Dutch knows a man doesn’t expect this to happen and that’s what makes it easy. As they walk, the other man pays him no mind, likely writing him off as just another drunk. Dutch only just has the sense not to chuckle to himself.

Doesn’t even have a gun on ‘em.

Before the man can get to the end of the alley, Dutch gets his wrist and pulls him back harshly. Even drunk, Dutch is a relatively graceful man, able to shove the other man against the wall before he’s even registered what’s happened. He exclaims, struggling against Dutch’s grip and body now pressed against him, but he stills when Dutch presses his gun into the man’s ribs.

“Best not ta move…” Dutch mutters, his voice with hardly any sense of soberness.

“Mister-”

Dutch twists the man’s arm behind his back, pulling enough to bring pain to the shoulder. The man gets the message, only whimpering a bit from the pain

And it hurts. Fuck, does it hurt. Maybe it’s the hard wood you’re pressed against, maybe it’s the gun barrel pressed into your skin, or maybe it’s the clear feeling of your assailant’s dick rubbing into your ass. Everything makes you feel small and helpless, the shock hardly helps. Getting robbed, you might expect that, but a man pinning you to a wall and…

The gun withdraws, his hand returning to fumble at your pants.

Your breath hitches and fear takes over your mind. This… this isn’t supposed to happen. Not-

“It’ll be over before ya know it, my dear.”

His voice makes you shiver, his breath hot against your neck, and a second later you almost feel the need to scream as his fingers wrap around your dick.

He’ll kill you. He’ll bring that gun back out and shoot you if you scream, maybe if you just fight. All of this is too much, you can’t think…

To your horror, your dick hardens in calloused hands, the feeling overriding the situation. The man lets your arm go in favor of using the hand to shove your pants down. The cool air feels terrible against your thighs and your body feels like it’s betraying you with the desire your hips seem to have in thrusting into the man’s hand.

A yelp escapes when you feel his fingers shove their way inside. His fingers are big, slicked lightly with something wet, and it makes you feel like puking. The movements are fast, desperate in the attempt to stretch your hole open. At least he decided to do it rather than just forcing his…you rest your head against the wall in front of you, not wanting to think about the man’s hands, let alone his dick.

But Dutch has never been more transfixed.

The man’s dick is heavy in his hand, hardened and wetted with beads of precum. His hole is so tight and warm, but Dutch works it open with so much ease it’s like his fingers were meant to fuck his man. God, what might this feel like around his dick. The man shivers beneath him, looking smaller than he did, like the actions are making him shrink. And Dutch loves it.

He retracts his fingers to pull himself from his pants, unable to wait much longer. His motions are stumbling as he endeavors to keep pumping the other man’s dick and making sure he’s solidly against the wall. But he gets himself lined up and the feeling when he pushes inside nearly sobers him. It’s so tight, so damn hot, and the man’s efforts to keep quiet run straight to his ears in the form of little whimpers and stifled sobs. So Dutch fucks him as hard as he can, his mind far from all of his trouble as ecstasy and liquor swim through it. The man trembles under Dutch, releasing over Dutch’s furiously pumping hand and whining as Dutch keeps using him. Both hands on the man’s hips now, Dutch presses him flush with the wall and fucks to the whiskey’s content.

And the pleasure that hits him is more than any he’s ever felt. He buries himself into the man, filling him with his release as he bites into the man’s neck to leave marks in his skin. The man breathes heavily, shaking under Dutch’s touch as the bite turns to kisses and Dutch milks himself for every drop as he relishes in the tight heat of the other man. He almost doesn’t want to let him go but he doesn’t have the clear mind to use his silver tongue and charm. Sweet talk and manipulation won’t work now, so he pulls out and tucks himself away.

He only lingers for a moment, looking at the man as he shakes against the wall, seemingly too scared to move. Dutch’s eyes trail down his body to the trickles of cum leaking out and down his legs. Mesmerized, Dutch steps forwards, trails his fingers over the streaks all the way up, and pushes it back inside the man’s hole. The whimper that follows would threaten to make Dutch hard again if not for the liquor stifling him. He fingers the fucked out hole for a while, pushing his cum back inside until he gets bored of it.

Then he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the man’s cheek, and walks away.

You stand still for a while, feeling sick and dizzy and broken. Your hands shake when you reach down for your pants, but before you can fasten them, The feeling of bending over sends shocks to your head and nausea swims. You throw up over the wall. It mixes with the splatter of your cum and you can’t keep your legs steady, falling back on your sore ass in the dirt. You heave for a few breaths, trying to catch up, tears working their way from your eyes in the process.

It’s a long time before you can wiggle your pants up, even longer before you can make yourself stand on shaky legs.

That man… you shiver at the thought.

That man. Dutch smiles.

[jacobsnicket]

fictober prompt 4: "no, we're not doing that" | transcendence au (gravity falls) | T

read on ao3

Ford twists at his fingers as he regards the book in front of them. It’s leather-bound and battered and still stained with blood and generally looks like something out of a bad horror movie. It is also stubbornly refusing to open. “Well, Stanley, I’m stumped. What do you propose?”

Next to him, Stan mock-gasps dramatically. “Woah, nerd genius over here is stumped? And he’s admittin’ it? I thought I’d never see the day!”

Ford sighs, equally as dramatic. “Stanley…”

“You know, I think we try burnin’ it. Put the fear of death in him, he’ll open up easy peasy. Just like an interrogation!”

“Stanley.”

“You’re sayin’ my name an awful lot, poindexter.”

Ford pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs again, no less dramatically. “No. We are not doing that. Do you want to get this book back to the Library or not?”

Stan crosses his arms. “It’s not like you have any other ideas. And I didn’t mean actually burn it. I just meant wave the lighter kinda near ‘im so he gets scared. I’m not stupid.”

He catches the look of panic that flashes across his brother’s face at that, mouth wide open. “I didn’t mean— of course you’re not— I wasn’t—”

And there it is. God, it’s been so long since they were walking on eggshells around each other, terrified of upsetting the uneasy peace they’d created in the wake of the Transcendence Bill’s defeat Dipper’s death everything, and just when he’s thought they could talk with each other normally again, something happens that makes one of them think they’ve fucked it all up. “... I know, genius. I was jokin’.”

Ford presses his lips together, looking marginally calmer. “Of course. I knew that. Also, what makes you think the book is… well… a him?”

Stan ignores just how obvious his brother’s attempt to change the topic is. “Was I doin’ that? Oh boy, it could be a him or not a him, you can’t assume these things. Now I feel bad. Hey, you think that’s why it’s not opening?”

“Books don’t usually have genders, Stanley,” Ford says, and his voice is almost light now.

“It’s at least kind of alive. You never know.”

“That is a fair point.”

[darkesttimelinestuff]

Fictober Day 4

Prompt #12 - “did you hear that?” "

Camping in October on Martha’s Vineyard is a crapshoot. Foliage is guaranteed, but the chance that the weather will turn is a gamble. 

And Fox Mulder is gambling man. He opted for a cabin, rather than a tent under the stars. They had spent the day hiking, and even found what Mulder dubbed now as their “makeout spot.” It had been a perfect fall day. The sun began to set and temperatures dipped, so they had made their way back to the cozy one-room cabin to continue their makeout session. 

*****

Back at the cabin, Mulder says, “It’s freezing.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Scully says, but doesn’t look up from her book. 

Mulder shudders, says, “I’m getting flashbacks to Antarctica.”

Scully is not sure how to respond. They rarely talk about Antarctica, because really, what is there to say? “Thanks for saving my life” feels trivial. Completely inadequate. And it’s all wrapped up in declarations of passion, the closing of the X-Files, and the ghost of a woman who almost tore them apart. A sore subject best left in the past. 

Instead, she says, “Oh, stop it,” and swats at his legs, perched on her lap. 

Outside the wind howls, slapping leaves against the living room window. It was an autumnal swirl all afternoon, that descended into a spooky scene with the setting sun. 

Scully reaches behind her, grabs the blanket, and spreads it over Mulder. “It’s these old, drafty windows,” she says, and resumes reading her book.

Mulder’s eyes drift closed and after a few minutes, she adds, “I think it’s actually kind of peaceful.”

Mulder cracks open one eye. “Peaceful?” 

“Well, we spent so much time in the city,” she explains. “Even on our cases, in seedy motels, there’s usually more… noise pollution that I’d like.”

“Are you still mad about that time I book us the by-hour motel? Because I told you that was an accident and -” but he stops and cocks his head. Listens. “Did you hear that?” he says, urgently.

Scully remains very still and listens. “It’s just the wind,” she says. 

“No, I heard something,” insists Mulder. “It sounded like screaming.

Scully continues to listen for a minute and after a minute shakes her head. 

Resigned, Mulder sighs and closes his eyes again, his breathing slowing. Scully picks up her book and marvels at how relaxed he’s been. 

After a few minutes the unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream tears through the night. Scully shoots to her feet, dropping the book. Similarly, Mulder tumbles to the floor, face down, panting heavily. 

He lets out a pained groan.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Scully says, bending to help him up. 

“Do you believe me now?” Mulder asks, rising to his feet.

“That definitely sounded like screaming,” Scully agrees. 

“I told you,” he says, bending to meet her at her level. “This isn’t something I’d make up.”

“You’re right. But we need to figure this out now. Someone is clearly in trouble.”

“Way ahead of you,” Mulder says, already tucking his weapon into his jeans, heading for the door. 

“Right behind you,” Scully says, grabbing her piece.

The full moon provides some light. Scully’s stomach is in knots, heart thumping hard. Dread sets in that this could be turning into a case of swamp monster or night fairies, when all she wants was a quiet weekend with Mulder. 

Their feet crunch twenty feet into the woods and they stand back-to-back, waiting. Listening. Another shrill cry echoes from behind their cabin and they head in that direction. 

“Just one quiet getaway…” Scully mutters, more annoyed than scared. 

“What was that?” Mulder asks.

“Nothing,” she relents, and they continue inching toward the back of the cabin, weapons at the ready.

In the back they stop at a rustling in the bushes. It’s darker here, the canopy blocking most of the moonlight. Mulder places a hand on Scully’s arm, stopping her in her tracks. He takes a step in front of her. “Be ready,” he whispers.

Another scream and something tumbles out of the bushes, a tangle of fur and limbs snarling. One creature rips away, yelping in pain, the other runs into the cover of night. Mulder’s arms fall to his sides. “It’s a… a…” he pants, “a…”

“It’s a fox,” Scully deadpans, lowering her gun. “How appropriate, Fox.”

The animal limps, calling behind it one last time, and scurries off into the woods. 

“Who knew a fox could sound like a woman screaming in pain,” Mulder says, sheepishly.

“Mulder, have you never been camping before?” Scully asks. 

“Uh I must have missed those Scout meetings.” And he gives her a toothy grin.

“Next time I’ll take you to camp among the Redwoods where there have been Bigfoot sightings,” Scully smirks.

“Scully, you know the way to my heart,” Mulder says, clutching his heart.

[captainsophiestark]

Don't Mess With Demeter

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day One Prompt: "That was good work."

Summary: Travis and Connor Stoll like to cause problems. Fortunately, having Luke Castellan for a boyfriend can help take the sting out of dealing with those problems.

Word Count: 1,802

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: Happy spooky season everyone!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU TWO!"

My eyes snapped open at the screeching sound coming from just outside my cabin. I rolled out of bed quickly, hustling to the front door in my pajamas, to find Katie Gardner absolutley fuming in the front doorway. Her fists were clenched as she started at someone beyond the cabin door, the early morning light giving her silhouette a rosy glow.

I hadn't had a chance to look at the clock, but clearly it was much too early on a Saturday for me to be dealing with this. Unfortunately for me, as the head counselor for the Demeter cabin, I didn't actually have a choice.

I followed Katie as she stormed outside, in hot pursuit of whoever had gotten on her bad side. As she stepped further into the light, I realized she was absolutley dripping wet, and the most likely series of events clicked into my head at the exact same time I heard the Stolls cackle.

Damned Hermes kids. I knew better than to expect them to ever stop pranking us completely, especially since Travis seemed to use it as a way to flirt with Katie, but did they have to do it so early in the morning?

By the time I cleared the Demeter cabin's front steps, Katie had already chased the Stolls halfway across the lawn full of cabins, shouting and hurling seed packets at them as she went. With a little Demeter magic, she made the packets explode as soon as they got close enough to the Stolls. For the sake of every single camper still asleep, I needed to put a stop to this sooner than later.

I snatched up my own handful of seeds that had been sitting outside the cabin, then took off after Katie, Connor, and Travis. The Stolls kept cutting back and forth across the grass, Katie always a few steps behind them, which made it much easier for me to catch up to the trio by skipping the zig zags. Connor made it almost to the treeline of the forest before apparently remembering he might not want to take a fight with a Demeter kid into the woods, so he came to a screeching halt. Travis, who'd had his head turned to grin at Katie, ran right into his back. The two went toppling to the ground, and when I finally reached them, Katie had her arm pulled back to annihilate the brothers with whatever she managed to grow out of all the seeds she'd grabbed.

"Nope!" I cried, using one hand to stop Katie from following through on her throw while I scattered my own seeds with the other. A little concentration and a wave of my hand later, some flowers had sprouted and wrapped lightly around the Stolls' legs, keeping them in place at least for the moment. I turned my attention fully to Katie again.

She scolwed me, her half-dry hair and near-growling tone giving her quite a wild look.

"What are you doing? I had them!"

"Katie, as much as I get where you're coming from, I can't let you make the Stolls into living tress."

"Why not? They deserve it! It'd finally stop them from showing up at our cabin at five in the morning on a Saturday just to mess with us!" I grimaced. I knew it was early, but 5am... oof. "See! You know I'm right."

I sighed. "While my regular camper heart might agree with you, since my alarm was you screaming thanks to their prank... my senior counselor brain is reminding me we don't get to kill the other campers, even when they might deserve it. Sorry, Katie."

"So what, they just get away with it? Like nothing ever happened?"

"No, definitley not." I turned to the Stolls again, hands on my hips. They'd both managed to get about halfway out of my flower trap, but they froze on the spot when they noticed my attention on them. "What do you think, boys? You drove a daughter of Demeter to a murderous rage. I think that's gonna take quite a bit to make up for it."

They both sighed, relaxing back against the ground as they shared a look. They communicated silently for a few moments, Travis opening his mouth to say something before Connor held up a hand. Finally, Connor turned back to me.

"We'll take her stable cleaning chores for the week," he said. Katie and I scoffed in sync.

"Nice try, Connor. How about this? Both of you take all of Katie's chore spots for the next week, and I'll schedule you a few extra rotations in the stables, since you seemed so willing to take over there. And if you wake me up this early in the morning by going after one of my siblings again, I might just roll over and go back to sleep while Katie takes care of the problem for me."

Travis huffed, flopping onto his back on the ground, and Connor narrowed his eyes at me.

"That seems a little harsh."

"Oh, by all means. Let me wake you up at five tomorrow with screaming and a run and see how you feel about it."

"Fine. Message recieved," he huffed, rolling his eyes. I waved my hand to free them both from the flower trap and they stood. They made it all the way to the door of the Hermes cabin, Travis shooting a wink at Katie as he went, before Connor paused and turned back to me. "We'll make sure to schedule our pranks in the late morning from now on."

The grin those two gave me before ducking through the door was mischief incranate, but I just sighed. Now that the crisis had been dealt with, all I wanted was to go back to sleep.

"I'm going to kill them," Katie huffed from beside me. I turned to her with a lopsided smile.

"Even Travis?"

"Of course Travis! Why would you even ask me that?" I raised an eyebrow at her, and despite her scowl, she blushed furiously. "Oh, shut up! A traitor in my own house..."

She shook her head, grumbling as she headed back to our cabin without looking back at me. I just grinned as I watched her go. As much as she liked to complain about the Stolls, I'd seen her shoulder to shoulder having the time of her life with them too many times to believe she really hated them. Travis especially.

The sound of a door opening and closing drew my attention away from Katie and back to the Hermes cabin. I got ready to hurl another handful of seeds if the Stolls had decided to pick possibly the worst time ever to show their faces again, but instead, I got a much nicer surprise. Luke, my boyfriend and the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, wandered out in a camp t-shirt and his pajama pants, his hair a delightfully ruffled mess.

"Hey," he called as he walked towards me. "Any idea why the Stolls just came running into my cabin muttering and plotting?"

"Is that not just the base state of Hermes kids?"

"Very funny," he huffed, and I grinned.

"They dumped a bucket of water on Katie's head this morning. I woke up to her screaming bloody vengance, and just managed to catch them before she got her revenge. In the interest of keeping the peace, I gave them all her chore spots in exchange for Katie not attacking them. Then I made sure they knew I wasn't going to get up to save them next time if something happened before nine am."

Luke laughed, pulling me in close for a hug as he finally reached me. I let him, leaning into his chest and sighing in the now-peaceful morning.

"You know they're just going to wait until about five minutes after nine now, right?"

"Yeah."

"As long as you're prepared. Still. That was good work." He pulled back with a smile, then leaned in as if to kiss me. I leaned back, putting a hand on his chest to stop him, and he frowned.

"Kisses are for boyfriends who don't abandon me to deal with his problem-children on my own. At five in the morning."

Luke huffed a laugh before pulling me back into his chest. I let him, although I put up a little resistance just to make my point.

"Hm. I don't suppose there's anything I can do to make it up to you? Get back in your good graces?"

"I don't know, Castellan. Connor and Travis made me run at five in the morning."

"Oh, it's Castellan now, is it?"

"Mhm."

"Alright. What if... I put together an extra-special date for us tonight? Something romantic, relaxing, and maybe even a little magical. Would that get me back in your good graces?"

I hummed pretending to think about it. Luke kissed the top of my head, then pulled back again enough to look me in the eye. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"I guess that might work. Depending on just how relaxing and romantic said date is."

"Oh, I can promise you right now, it'll be the most romantic and the most relaxing. And even better, I'll make sure nobody can interrupt us with camp problems, pranks, or anything else for the rest of the night."

"You really think you can make that happen?" I asked, letting the skepticism creep into my voice. By virtue of being two of the oldest campers who'd also been here close to the longest, we got roped into everything. Luke just grinned back at me, a little bit of his family resemblance to the Stolls creeping through via the glint in his eyes.

"I really think I can."

I grinned, dropping the huffy act and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Well, good. Because after this morning, I need a night like that with my favorite person."

"So I take it I'm at least mostly off the hook?"

"Mostly. All the way if and when we get our peaceful night tonight."

"Can't wait."

We shared a smile, then Luke leaned in to kiss me, and this time I let him. Despite the early hour, the moment alone with the camp so quiet as the sun rose over Long Island Sound was actually pretty nice. After a moment, though, I pulled back, and Luke and I shared a sigh.

"You wanna head to breakfast while we can still get away with sitting at the same table? Before the rest of the campers show up?"

"Always," he said, smiling again and taking my hand in his. The two of us headed off to the dining pavilion together, taking the rare opportunity to enjoy a peaceful morning together. Would I have preferred to still be asleep right now? Sure. But if I couldn't get that, then a nice, quiet morning with Luke wasn't a bad second option.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Riordanverse: @valkyriepirate

[gorogues]

Fictober 2024

Prompt number #4 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: T – Teen and up Warnings: Profanity, general miscreant behaviour

Day Four: “No, we’re not doing that”

The Rogues had piled into the van for a road trip to Chicago to see the Cubs play, as they did every year or so, but things quickly seemed strange to anyone paying attention.

“Hey, why aren’t we heading to the interstate?” Mark called from the back seat, and Len tightened his grip on the wheel.

“We ain’t going to Chicago,” Len replied calmly.  “We’re going to Keystone.”

“What!  What about the Cubbies?!” Mick demanded.  “You said we were going to Wrigley to watch `em play the Cards!”

“Nope, we’re not doin’ that.  We’re gonna go watch the Combines play, because somebody set off a stink bomb in my bed and now we’re gonna do what I want to do.”

Axel’s cheeks reddened a bit, but he figured the best defence was a good offence.  “Hockey totally sucks, and this isn’t Canada!  The rest of us don’t like it and you’re outnumbered six to one!”

“I don’t care one way or another, mate, they’re all shit Yank sports to me,” Digger shrugged, and Evan nodded enthusiastic agreement.

“It’s nae fitba.”

Len took his attention away from the road to grin aggressively at the others.  “Funny you should mention Canada, `cause we’re gonna watch the Combines play the Leafs and it’ll be one hell of a bloodbath.  I get to see my team stomp another, and you dickheads get to watch a team embarrass itself by choking in the clutch every single time.”

Roscoe began fumbling with the van’s side door, intending to make a speedy exit, but the doors were locked from the driver’s controls.

“Oh no, Dillon, you aren’t going anywhere.  Trickster told me the bomb was your idea.”

Roscoe’s eyes flashed with an angry green glow.  “I should have known there was a reason you insisted I go to the ballgame!”

Len just laughed, and the van soon approached the river-spanning bridge to Keystone.

+++

One hour later found the Rogues seated in the arena, watching the start of the game with varying levels of interest.

“This sport is so dumb.  Why the skates?” Axel complained as Len swigged some beer and enjoyed the misery of the idiots around him.

“It’s cold in here,” Mick whispered, shivering.  Mark surreptitiously draped Len’s coat around their suffering comrade’s shoulders, having observed that Dear Leader was absorbed in the action on the ice.

“The brawling’s not bad,” Digger observed appreciatively as several players exchanged punches and one guy tripped another with his stick when the ref wasn’t looking.

“Aye, I’ve watched the ice hockey before in Glesga.  Bu’ it’s nae all that popular with the local lads except for all the doin’,” Evan replied, moderately bored by the game.  His eyes were on another patron’s expensive watch which was located three rows in front of them, seductively glinting under the overhead lights.

Roscoe sat silently and tried to hide his annoyance to deprive Len of any satisfaction, though with only middling success because Len knew him better than he knew himself.  He paid most of his attention to the other Rogues, finding their behaviour more interesting than the mediocre game itself.

But Len was having a blast.  “Fuck yeah!” he jeered when the Combines scored yet another goal over the hapless Maple Leafs, inadvertently drenching Mark with beer.

“God, Len, could you not?” Mark grumbled, dabbing at his favourite Cubs jersey with a greasy napkin.  “I didn’t set off any stink bomb.”

“S-so c-cold…” Mick murmured, and Evan was getting a distinct gleam in his eyes as he stared at the fancy watch.

“Say, have you noticed that gentleman’s beautiful watch?” Roscoe conversationally observed to his fellows.  “Who wants to bet that I can lift it from his wrist without him noticing?”

Evan glared at him; he was determined that the prize should only be his.  He stood up, claiming to need the washroom, so Roscoe sat back and relaxed.  Time to wait for things to blow up.

Soon there was a scuffle a few rows in front of them, involving lots of shouting and shoving.  “Hey, this guy tried to steal my watch!” shouted an indignant voice amidst the melee.

“Fight!  Fight!” Digger cheered from his seat, simply enjoying the drama and not caring who was involved.

Len got up with a sinking feeling, trying to see what was happening.  “Dammit, McCulloch…”  He pushed his way to the aisle with the faint hope of retrieving his idiot before the police were called and the game was potentially ruined.

“I think Mick would appreciate it if you raised the temperature in here,” Roscoe said to Mark in that same conversational tone, and the Weather Wizard knew exactly what he was doing but was only too happy to oblige.

“Y’know, you’re right,” Mark muttered, seeing an opportunity to go home without the boss finding out.  He waved his wand, and the interior of the building began to slowly heat up.  Not enough to make anyone ill, but enough for the ice to start melting in ways the players didn’t like, and they left the rink soon after.

“Your attention, please,” the arena’s announcer droned over the public address system. “The game is temporarily on hold due to unforeseen conditions on the ice, and your patience is appreciated while the matter is investigated.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Len demanded when he returned to the group with a shame-faced Evan in tow.

“No clue.  Something’s gone wrong, I guess,” Mark said smoothly, and the Rogues who’d caught on to the scheme had the common sense not to chuckle.

Len snorted with extreme annoyance.  “We can’t wait around here for things to maybe continue, because this dipshit tried and failed to steal some rich guy’s watch.  McCulloch, I don’t want you to get snatched by the cops on the way home, so you head back right away via your mirror.”

“Aye,” Evan mumbled, and prepared to exit the building via a small mirror from his pocket.  Most of the other Rogues eagerly tried to follow, but Len narrowed his eyes at them, already suspicious about the evening’s various misfortunes.

“Nope, the rest of you jerks are with me, and we’re all gonna drive home together.  And we’re gonna take the scenic route too.”

The heavy sighs Roscoe and Mark uttered were an incredible balm to Len’s soul.

[lovebugism]

hi hi hi!! I love you work so much! I was wondering if I could request "secretly holding hands while standing beside each other at a bonfire" with eddie?? 🤍🤍

i had an idea and ran with it so it's a wee bit different from the original prompt, but i hope you like it! — you and eddie try to keep your relationship a secret at the senior class bonfire (secret relationship, cheerleader!reader fluff, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Wearing your cheer uniform to the Hawkins High bonfire was a bad idea. Not ditching it to hang out with Eddie was worse.

You’re left constantly looking over your shoulder for him, eager to break away from the mindless conversations and find meaning in the autumn in the boy everyone called a freak. 

You think you’re being subtle about it until Tina Burton cuts herself off mid-sentence to ask, “What are you looking for?” She sounds annoyed with you, borderline offended ‘cause you aren’t hanging on every word she says.

She’s captain of the cheer squad, so you fluster like you’re being genuinely scolded. “Hm? Oh— nothing. It’s… It’s nothing,” you stammer and look down at your feet, toeing at the tall grass with your white sneakers.

She squints past you, unconvinced. “Okay…”

When she starts rambling again, you try hard to pay attention. None of the words make any sense, though. Your brain noise is too loud. It’s all just Eddie Eddie Eddie.

When a muffled heavy metal bass starts to blare in the distance, it feels almost like you’ve willed him.

This time when you glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s van swing haphazardly into a gravel parking spot. The music comes to a sudden halt when your boy hops out of the driver’s seat, bathed golden from the amber streetlights.

You’re grinning wide the second you see him, smiling harder than anyone ever has before. He catches you all but sparkling at the sight of him, and when he flashes you a crooked grin, you have to look away before you burst entirely.

Chrissy sees your smiling cheeks and the way you hold the expression between your teeth. She nudges you and teases, “What’s that look for, huh?”

You don’t have the words to answer her, so you just shake your head and try to hide the brightness of your beaming.

You glance back again, still trying to be lowkey about the whole thing, and find the rest of Eddie’s friends filing out of the back of his old van. He’s still looking at you, with a smile as wild as his frizzy curls.

He nods over to the empty woods in a silent plea to get you alone.

With a fluttering heart, you nod back at him. 

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna get some more cocoa,” you announce suddenly, cutting Tina off mid-sentence and scurrying off before anyone can stop you.

You make sure no one’s looking when you duck past the drink table and head towards the blackened woods. You’re not as scared as you probably should be when you step through the tree line. You figure there’s not much of a reason to be — not when you know Eddie’s out here waiting for you, anyway.

The boy grabs you suddenly from behind. You squeal into the starry night, giggling while he laughs into your shoulder.

“Took you long enough,” you scold, shoving him with a playful hand when you turn around to face him. “I’ve been waiting on you for forever.”

Eddie shrugs with a lopsided grin. “I’m a rockstar, babe. I’m fashionably late— it’s my thing.”

“Right,” you monotone with the roll of your eyes.

You look too pretty not to kiss. Eddie leans down for a swift peck, then grows quickly drunk on the hot cocoa-peppermint chapstick mixture in your mouth. He ducks down again, this time for something more languid.

His plush mouth presses and lingers against yours, innocuous still. He tastes like nicotine and diner food. If domesticity had a taste, you think it’d taste just like this.

Eddie parts from you with a drunken hesitance, wearing your blush pink lipstick on his swollen mouth. Something primal swells in the pit of your stomach. It feels almost like you own him. 

His chocolate eyes squint at your mischievous grin. “…What?”

“You have my lipstick all over your mouth.”

It makes him smile, too. He feels more like he’s yours now that he’s got evidence of you. He’d wear you all over if he could. He doesn’t ever want to wipe it off.

“Metal,” he mumbles all boyish, with your rosy lipstick smeared along his mouth.

His crooked grin ebbs when he notices you shivering. His bushy brows pinch in concern. 

“You cold?”

You shrug and cross your arms over your chest, hugging yourself for warmth. “Yeah. I’m used to it, though. Normally, I’d wear tights under my skirt, but I figured I’d get too hot during the bonfire…”

You trail off when Eddie starts to shrug off his leather jacket.

“No, Eds.”

“What?”

“You’ll be cold!”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” you whine as his arms wrap around you to put the black cloth over your shoulders. It almost fully conceals your green and white cheer uniform.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Eddie chuckles. “Here, put your arms in.”

You listen but complain the entire time. “You’ll get sick, and you won’t be able to play at your shows, and the bar will be so boring without you.”

Eddie scoffs. If Corroded Coffin couldn’t play their Tuesday night shows, it would just be another Tuesday night at the Hideout. Nothing would change except their seven-to-nine slot being empty. He loves that you think so highly of him, though.

“Well, the only other option is you getting sick and Hawkins losing their best cheerleader. And what would Jason Carver do without you cheering on his mediocrity, huh?”

You roll your eyes with a grumbled “Shut up…”

He smiles again and leans in with the intention to kiss you stupid.  A tree limb cracks sharply in the distance before he can. The two of you stumble back from each other on instinct.

Jason Carver appears from the darkened woods, scarier than any psycho-killing maniac that could be roaming these woods at this very moment.

“Speak of the devil, and the devil appears,” Eddie lilts under his breath.

“Jason,” you sigh, breathless for a reason you can’t name. “What are you… What are you doing here?”

“Tina said she saw you walking into the woods… I wanted to make sure you were alright,” the blonde boy answers with a squint to his stone-blue eyes. His gaze darts between you and Eddie, like he’s trying to make sense of the two of you.

The wild-haired boy scoffs and rolls his eyes. How fucking chivalrous, he thinks bitterly to himself.

“Is this freak bothering you?” Jason asks you, a sense of protectiveness coating his words.

He says it like you’re not wearing Eddie’s jacket. Like Eddie’s not wearing your pink lipstick on his mouth.

Still, you smile kindly and shake your head. “Nope. I’m okay.”

“Yeah,” the brunette boy shrugs with a crooked grin. “We’re just talkin’, Carver.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, freak,” Jason bites back.

“We’re fine,” you intervene, voice wavering in fear of the situation becoming bigger than you can handle. “I’ll be back in a flash. I promise.”

Jason’s eyes narrow one last time at Eddie before he ultimately decides to leave.

You let out a shaking sigh when he’s gone.

Eddie laughs. “What a fucking idiot…”

Jason’s got so much muscle in his arms that there’s nothing left for his brain. He still thinks he’s hot shit — star quarterback, free ride to a fancy school — why should the prettiest cheerleader in school be off limits? He still thinks he has a shot with you, no idea that you’re already Eddie’s.

“We should go back out there,” you announce when it gets too quiet. “If Tina’s talking, she’s already gonna give me shit for disappearing.”

“Do you wanna go first, or should I?” Eddie asks. It’s muscle memory at this point. The scheming, the hiding — it’s all the two of you have ever known.

Still, you shift your weight on your feet. Your hands wring together as you draw mindless shapes in the dirt with your sneakers. “I don’t know…” you murmur with a shrug. “We could go together, maybe?”

“Together?”

“Yeah. I mean, we don’t have to, but it beats Jason always intervening when we’re together ‘cause he thinks you’re kidnapping me or something.” 

The laugh you let out is halfway forced. You find yourself so suddenly fearful of rejection. Maybe Eddie doesn’t want to be public with you. Maybe he’s hiding because he doesn’t want people to know he likes you.

The boy melts. His features soften as he nears you, wide palms rubbing at your arms in a feeble attempt to keep you warm. “Are you sure you wanna do that, babe?” he wonders with a trembling laugh. “If people know about us— it’ll, like, fuckin’ destroy your rep.”

“I don’t have a rep.”

Eddie’s brows raise. His dark eyes sparkle expectantly.

You’re on your way to being prom queen — with Jason fucking Carver right beside you as king. Everyone knows it. And you know it, too, so you concede with a sigh.

“Well, I care more about you than some stupid reputation, okay? I deserve to spend time with my boyfriend without having to worry about what everyone else is thinking.”

Eddie grins. His heart swells with so much warmth he’s slightly fearful it might burst. He’s never felt prouder of you — prouder to love you. Despite feeling distantly undeserving of your adoration, he nods in response.

“Alright, then… Let’s go break some fucking necks.”

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 29: Cow-incidences

Prompt: "How did this happen?"

For the anon who asked: If you still have enough days left can you do a fic where somehow you can place in this quote “naming your cow Hamburger is crazy. It’s like if you named your fish Sushi.” Rating: T, wc: 964

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Being attacked by a cow even once is, statistically speaking, highly unlikely. Having it happen twice? Next to impossible. And yet, here’s Mulder in a cow-related accident for the second time in as many years.

Unlike last time, the cow is fine. Mulder, however, is less so. The details are hazy and Mulder can’t verify them yet. From what the police told Scully, Mulder was in his car and a cow appeared in the road, he braked, hit his head and the cow wandered off.

It sounds as fantastical as aliens invading the earth.

But she’s his emergency contact and so here she is at the hospital by his side, waiting for him to wake up. The doctors have assured her that apart from a bad concussion, he’s fine. It could have been worse.

How often has she heard this? It could have been worse. He could have died. Mulder doesn’t just have a patient file here, they have a whole book on him. Not that her own file is much smaller.

What were you thinking? She thinks staring at him. They put a bandage around his forehead where he hit his head on the steering wheel. At least – and the lesion on his chest proves it – he was wearing his seat belt. How many head injuries can he sustain until his brain shuts off? A concussion is nothing to worry about – usually.

With Mulder’s history and the still fairly recent head surgery earlier this year, she can’t help but worry. But that’s nothing new, is it? She always worries about Mulder. It never mattered if she knew him a day, a year, or almost a whole decade. Whether he’s her partner, her friend, or her almost lover, her heart will miss a beat every time he’s hurt.

“How did this happen?” she murmurs, touching the bandage on his head. “Can you wake up, please, and tell me?” She smiles, thinking about Mulder reiterating his story, making it sound like fun and not like a life-or-death situation. He’s good at that.

“Hmm?” His eyes are still closed, but she sees them flutter and her heart does the same.

“Mulder?” she asks, waiting for him to fully wake up.

“Where are we?” he rasps and she pours him a glass of water, waiting for him to be awake enough to help him have a sip. His eyes are small and his pupils dilated. She should have checked what medication they’ve given him.

“Hospital,” she says. “You had an accident.” He nods and winces, the slight movement seemingly too painful.

“Do you remember what happened?” She doesn’t want to pressure him; she just wants to know how much damage the concussion has caused.

“Cow,” he says. “There was a… cow.”

“A cow. Are you sure?”

“Naming your cow Hamburger is crazy. It’s like if you named your fish Sushi. Scully, should I name my fish sushi?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s worse than she thought. He’s confused – very much so.

“That cow.” He looks at her and she can barely see the green of his eyes because his pupils are that big. That leaves only one conclusion: he’s as high as a kite. No wonder he’s talking about cows named Hamburger.

“What about that cow?” she asks softly.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he says, leaning closer to her. “I think- I think her owner wanted that cow to murder me. No. No, wait. He wanted me to kill the cow. Why else would you name your cow Hamburger? That poor creature. Remember the cow in Kroner, Scully? Do you think I’m cursed?”

“You’re not cursed,” she assures him, smoothing his hair. The way he looks up at her breaks her heart. She wishes she knew what was going on in that head of his. All she can do is hope that it won’t last long. That he’ll wake up later today or tomorrow and that his mind is clear.

“I killed two cows, Scully.”

“You didn’t. The cow is fine.”

“Hamburger is fine?” His face lights up. Scully doesn’t know why he thinks Hamburger is the cow’s name, but she nods slowly, smiling at him. Once this is over, and he is back to normal, they will need to discuss what happened. And why he was driving a country road all on his own in the middle of the night. There’s time for that later.

“This could have ended badly.” The words tumble from her mouth, the last few hours catching up with her.

“No hamburger for a while,” Mulder says. She feels tears prick her eyes; she wants her Mulder. She wants him to smile at her, and say it’s all right. He just stares blankly at her as though he weren’t there.

“No hamburger for a while,” she agrees, trying to make the situation lighter. “Why don’t you sleep a bit more, hm? You have a concussion.”

“Headache, yeah.” He closes his eyes, only to pop them open again after a few minutes. It could be wishful thinking, but she thinks they look clearer already; the dark clouds moving away, making way for his brilliant mind to shine through.

“Will you stay?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly.

“Of course I’ll stay,” she assures him, taking his hand in hers. “I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

“Love you, Scully. If I know one thing, it’s that.” He closes his eyes again and in no time at all, his breath has evened out. She allows a few tears to fall, never letting go of his hand. His declaration is loud in her mind, playing like a favorite record.

“Love you, too,” she whispers, wondering if one day they’ll finally say these words when neither of them is lying in a hospital bed.

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 5- Can I Hold Your Hand?

Here is day 4, a bit of cutie dadrry <3 Enjoy!

FICTOBER Prompt list and Masterlist

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WC-700+

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“Can I hold your hand?” The small voice peeped up at him. Their son in his train conductor costume had been insistent that he was too big to hold his father’s hand, he was a big boy now and he could do trick or treating all by himself. 

Y/N pushed the baby carriage, his little sister still a drooly little baby with a plush pumpkin costume on her body and a tiny hat on her head to keep her warm as the october air chilled up. His wife was dressed up in a poodle skirt and letterman jacket, a little tie around her neck and a bouncy ponytail bobbing as she walked. Harry had chosen function this halloween, wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. His saddle shoes were the only thing he purchased for the getup, his hair slicked back in a 50’s like manner- except that one strand that escaped and curled over his head. Y/N had been adamant he not try and fix it, it apparently did something to her. 

“Yeah? Not too big to hold my hand now, mate?” He teased, placing his hand down for the smaller one to take. Their gait was slow, their son not the fastest with his Thomas the Tank Engine soft cut out around his body. It made him a big more clumsy, too, which is why Harry was glad Y/N had put knee guards and gloves on him.

“No. I’m am big, but I don’t like all the noises.” He tried to maintain, but the spooky music filtering through the neighborhood and sound effects of the motion sensor activated decor making the poor thing jump. Hell, one of those things had even made Harry clutch his chest as he had approached the front door to ring for candy. What was with these things getting more and more accessible to the public? He remembered the only time he used to see these things were in haunted houses he went to in uni. Now it seemed everyone on the block had a jumpscare waiting to strike. Stupid screaming skeleton. 

“It’s okay, baby.” Y/N crooned. “Did you know that on one of our first dates, Daddy took me to see a movie and got so scared he screeched?” It was true, but it was justified. Most of the room had jumped or made a noise too- it just so happened that his had been a bit more loud and high pitched than he would have liked. 

Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes, scoffing as his wife grinned like the little shit she was. Really? “Are you ever going to let me live that down? I told you, it was just a bad jump scare. You jumped too.” He looked towards their son, who was giggling simply because Y/N was. “Mumma’s being silly. It’s not a bad thing to scream either, it’s natural.” 

“But you’re so big and old, Daddy. You can’t get scared.” He giggled, his fingers squeezing on to Harry’s as they approached another pathway to go up to the house. It was decked out in cobwebs and had some cool orange and purple lighting, spooky sound effects filtering through hidden speakers in the bushes. The howl of a wolf sounded, having him step closer to Harry’s leg. “You go with me?”

“What’s this, then hm? Make fun of me for being scared and then asking me to go?” He ruffled the conductor hat on his head. “You’re lucky I love you loads and Mumma is afraid of the spiders in those webs or I’d made you go with her.” It was all in jest, Y/N simply shrugging. How was she supposed to know what spiders were fake or real? It would be a perfect place for one to hide and jump into her hair!

“It’s okay to be afraid of things, baby. Your father is just silly. Even sillier than me.” Her hand came up to squish Harry’s chin, letting her lipstick give a big kiss mark on his cheek, the bright red in the perfect shape of her lips. When she pulled back, there were loud giggles as the mark was revealed. Harry didn’t mind, clearly, blushing slightly as he knew exactly what she had done, but to their son it was apparently the funniest thing in the world. Y/N shot him a playful glare before threatening him with the same.  “Go on, then. Or you’re getting a kiss mark from me too. Grab Mumma a chocolate if there is one.”