#or alternatively he’s arguing that they’re not that close

[daydreamerdrew]

Batman: Ego (2000)

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Remember that one scene where Arthur is training with Merlin and Merlin is fighting for his life while Arthur repeatedly knocks him on his arse? I can’t remember what episode but it was early in season 1.

I like to imagine Merlin starts being sarcastic with every hit in hopes it’ll piss Arthur off enough to storm off and leave him alone. It backfires when Arthur starts replying and it turns into a venting session.

Like, Uther said some dumb shit about Arthur? Merlin starts a fight about it.

The knights can’t follow orders? Merlin is disobedient enough that Arthur starts yelling about how dangerous it is when his men don’t follow orders.

Arthur’s feeling bad about someone he couldn’t save? Merlin makes him see why he’s doing enough by arguing with him about it and reminding him that he’s only human.

And Arthur knows what he’s doing, he catches on eventually and will occasionally walk up to Merlin, push his shoulder only enough to be annoying until Merlin stops whatever he’s doing, then Arthur will just say “Fight me.” and Merlin will either say something he knows will get Arthur angry or he’ll throw a punch he knows Arthur will block and they’ll start sparring. (Merlin learns to fight eventually, neither of them realise it’s happening until he sucker punches a bandit and he’s out cold)

Anyway, it becomes something they do to help Arthur vent his frustrations.

The best part? It works.

So Arthur sees Merlin upset. It goes on for about a week when Arthur realises what’s going on. He sits down next to Merlin on the floor one night, nudges his shoulder like he would if he wanted to fight, and says, “why are you upset? It’s not like you’ve got anything to worry about.” In a purposefully taunting way.

Merlin scowls and keeps working, and Arthur tries again, “Really. All you do is follow orders. It’s not hard.”

And so Merlin looks up, clearly angry until he sees what Arthur is trying to do, so he puts down what he’s doing and starts fighting back, “no, just exhausting when those orders are given by a prat.” Or “Maybe if I had a day off once in a while.” I don’t know, I suck at dialogue.

It goes on for a while, until they get too close to the issue, Merlin snaps, tells Arthur he’s a dick and sobs, yelling about magic, and the great dragon being manipulative, loosing his father, loosing Freya, Gaius lying to him about his father and thinking Uther is a good king and a good man, and literally everything else that’s gone wrong.

Arthur pulls him in and hugs him, then tells Merlin they’re fighting together from here on out. It takes a while, but they work it out.

There’s plenty of “fights” about Arthur feeling betrayed by Merlin keeping secrets and Merlin being mad at his situation in Camelot and then being frustrated that he can’t get himself to feel angry at Arthur (I’ve got a half baked character analysis for Merlin and Arthur’s codependency somewhere in my drafts. I’ll come back to it eventually.) but they’re okay and they figure it out and end up stronger for it.

I’m holding back on sharing the major character death/dark!Arthur angsty alternate ending for this, but let me know if you want to see it :)

Edit: Part 2 - (the angsty alternate ending)

[babygorewhore]

Prey

Part one

Part two

After text messages from Rafe Cameron who completely ruined your night at his party, he knows every move you make and asserts his intentions through text messages. This starts a game to see how far Rafe will go to make you his, even if that means threats of punishments.

The horny demon took over with this guys. WC. 4,500

Warnings! Not a ton of plot. Dark! Rafe! Stalking! Panty stealing! Perv Rafe! Idk if she’s considered kind of bimbo because she’ caves in easily or what. Take it as you will. Female and male masterbation! Drug use,threats of violence and actual violence! Gun play! BDSM themes! One use of the Daddy! Choking!Degrading! Drinking! Hate fucking! spanking! unprotected sex! Reader is alternative but clothing is relatively generalized so it’s still inclusive. Damn that’s a lot of warnings.

Two days since your last text from Rafe Cameron. He knew about breakfast with John B. You tried not to check your phone as often as you wanted but the anxiety was hard to ignore. It was so insane. He just decided he wanted you after a bet. Why?

You kept tearing apart your room for any sign of a camera, microphone and you even taped the camera of your laptop for good measure. Maybe if you stayed home, that would be the best. But he knew what was going on. How?

John B asked you if you wanted to go to their traditional bonfire with the Pouges. You wanted to say no but maybe spending time with them would deter Rafe from his apparent need to text you vile things. You’d have a barrier. Surely, he couldn’t scare them all off.

It wasn’t as hot in the evening and you were thankful for that. Sarah gave you an extra pair of flip flops, but she did make sure they were black. You wore them and a black mid thigh dress. It was flowy and comfortable. But it was missing something as you sat down on a beach chair.

You left your underwear at home, on your bed. It was a test. To see if he really was getting in your house or he would go that far. It was a really bold move but you wanted bait him. Maybe if he broke in, you’d have something to report.

“Earth to you-“ A hand waved in front of your face.

“Oh, sorry.” You chuckled and adjusted your skirt. “What were you saying?”

“How are you? Since the whole bet thing happened?” Kie asked and you breathed heavily. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about. Apparently just with the videos disappearing wasn’t enough. “I’m okay. Doubtful I’ll ever swim in a pool again.” You started twirling the end of your hair nervously as time ticked.

No text yet. Maybe this was working. Maybe he was bluffing.

“We’ll kick his ass. Piece a shit picking on a Pouge.” JJ crushed a beer can and glared. “I’m sick of him getting away with it. We need to do something.”

“My brothers crazy. He would probably kill you.” Sarah pointed out and leaned further into John B.

“The fuck he would! He’s just some rich little punk whose never been put in his place.” JJ argued and you started to panic inside.

That was the furthest thing from the truth. You knew Rafe wasn’t just some punk. You didn’t even know him but you trusted your instincts.

“Guys, really. It’s okay. They’re taken down and it’s what I needed. I don’t need protection.” You insisted. God the suspense was killing you. Were you an idiot? Probably.

“Something weird happened today,” John B interrupted, “When I got into the car before her, I had this weird feeling someone was watching me,”

He started but you tuned him out as the night went on. You still didn't mention the texts. You didn’t wanna stir up anymore threats from JJ. You thought about the way he kissed that girl. His big hands roaming all over her hips and ass. It was so wrong for you to think about that considering how much of a dick he was.

But you couldn’t help it.

You were also scared shitless when you closed your bedroom door after you both arrived home, Sarah joining John B. You didn’t want to see that…so you locked your door.

You covered your mouth with both hands when you saw your panties. They were on your pillow and you could see even from here, they were wet and drying on the sides. Your bed was messy, your drawers moved open.

He had been here.

You carefully moved closer, gingerly lifting them. The creamy substance was evident on what it was. He came on it. And from the way it was almost dripping, multiple times. You dropped it on the floor and dug in your dresser.

All your panties were gone. Your mouth was wide open with shock.

You stepped forward, prepared to tell John B that Rafe Cameron broke into his home when your phone finally buzzed.

Frantically you brought it to your face.

“Put them on.”

Oh no. Was he serious? How did he know-there must have been a camera. Where was it?

“Put it on, or I’ll kill him.”

“You wouldn’t.” You speedily responded. Growing angry. How dare he threatened him. Just to get what he wanted in his perverted mind. “That’s a pussy ass threat.”

“Who says it’s a threat? I know exactly where he goes. When he goes. And who he talks too. I know everything about this place. And I know everything about you.”

Chills ran down your spine.

“I don’t believe you.” You started breathing heavier as you clutched at your chest. He wasn’t joking. You knew that. If he was rich enough to afford that house without a second glance, surely he could pull this off.

“You graduated with impressive grades, you’re an only child, you have a habit of reading kinky porn, your parents owned a music store for three decades. John B is your cousin on your Mothers side and you…you’ve only had one boyfriend. Chris. From high school.”

Your knees almost gave out. Everything was true. Not all of those things were even on your instagram. Fuck, not even your FRIENDS knew some of that shit. How did he find out? Did he run some sort of-

“You ran a fucking background check on me?” You typed in all caps, your thumbs slapping on the screen. “ARE YOU INSANE? JUST STOP IT AND DON'T THREATEN JOHN B!”

“Then put them on.”

You weren’t getting out of this. “Okay if I put them on, what then?”

“Lay down on the bed.”

You slithered them on, his cum coating your pussy as you rubbed your thighs together. Maybe it was your own fault with this experiment but he would have done it anyway.

Your back met the top of the covers and you had the image of his leaking cock around the material. Spilling onto the silk and lace. You spread your legs, assuming that’s what he wanted.

“No, you’re not allowed to touch yourself or cum. Not unless I’m inside you with my cock, fingers or tongue. This is just showing your pussy exactly who gets to cum in it. The longer you fight this, I’ll punish you. And I don’t think you’ll like that.”

“Punish me?”

“That’s what I said. If you’re not a good girl, then your little pouge friends are gonna pay. Do you understand me?”

You wanted so badly to tell him to fuck off. “No I don’t speak asshole, I did it. I put them on and now you leave me alone.”

You closed your phone and decided you wouldn’t listen to anything he said. Laying back down, you pulled off the underwear easily and it’s slick smeared on your inner thighs.

You were pent up from sadness, anger and now spite. If he was watching, then you’d put on a fucking show. Spreading your legs, your fingers delicately teasing your cunt and you started circling your clit. You twitched and clenched around the air as your own wetness combined with his. He couldn’t possibly read your thoughts. His muscular arms would hold the headboard as he pounded into you.

You liked challenging him. Secretly, that’s one of the things that made you wet. Talking back to him. Your core tightened as your speed increased before you slipped two small fingers inside, curling them up. They couldn’t reach the spot you wanted. You tried to move at a different angle before settling on just playing with your clit.

You curled up when you came, harder than usual and you bit your lip to keep from making too much noise.

After calming, you hesitated before clicking on your phone.

“Oh, pretty girl. I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

That was all he said.

Now, you were trembling again. The threat echoed. You started biting your nails. What would happen? What punishment was he talking about?

It wasn’t like he would break in with John B here or would he? He wasn’t concerned about your cousin in the slightest.

You took some initiative. If he knew so much about you, you could return the favor. Have something on him.

You googled his name.

Rafe Cameron, eldest and only son holding Cameron’s name after Ward and Rose Cameron’s passing.

Rafe Cameron, under thirty CEO bringing numbers to the maximum within two years.

You sighed, only getting a superficial history of his age and family line. Huffing, you needed more. There was one option. You went to instagram and found his official and only account. Your mouth went dry. His photos consisted of golf yards, parties and two photos of him wearing a suit next to a giant table in an office that looked like it was in the future.

Absolutely nothing. Nothing to go on. And nothing to rub in his face. Of course.

An idea came to you. Maybe you couldn’t find anything online. But you had an entire group of rebels who could tell you everything you needed to know. You smirked. Finally, you could get back at him.

“So, John B, was it…hard to be Sarah’s boyfriend? I mean the war between Pouges and Kooks seems pretty intense.” You sat at the dock while he tackled some sort of contraption, working back and forth between boats. It was a half lie when you said you wanted to go with him while he worked.

But you needed information. You didn’t get a text yet but you knew that wasn’t defeat on his part.

“For a while,yeah. Topper made it his mission to come after me. We got into it a few times, then he pushed me. I broke my wrist. Rafe…it’s complicated.”

You quirked an eyebrow, trying not to look too interested. “How?” For good measure, you played with the end of your skirt. All your panties were gone and you were trying not to shift every five seconds.

“Rafe’s crazy. He used to be this out of control, frat boy cocaine addict and he was,” John B stops moving, “Dead set on destroying us. Came at us with guns. He’s dangerous but now he’s got money. All the money.”

Your heart fluttered. And now, Rafe had his sights on you.

“What about their other sister..?”

“She lives with him. He almost shipped her off to boarding school but I guess she’s his one soft spot. Sarah talks to her sometimes. That’s why I was upset you went to that party. They’re bad people. Stay away from him.” His warning makes you nod.

But would he stay away from you?

A week later, you arrived at the Pouge spot with John B that was even marked by a tree they carved. You carried a cooler of booze as you got closer to the circle but you, John B and Sarah realized Pope and JJ were missing

You were all searching for at least ten minutes now, you called out his name, cupping your hands. “Pope! JJ! Where are you?”

Your converse were getting in the way of the sand and you finally stopped being stubborn, removing them as you maneuver through the woods. You were alone and it felt uncomfortable.

The moon was illuminating your ring clad fingers as a snap of a branch caught your attention. “Pope?”

A large strong hand covered your mouth and you eyes widened, you were being yanked off the ground and carried off. “Mm-he-“ You tried to form words but the hand pressed harder. You kicked, flailed but to no avail.

The assailant dragged you off to a darker corner where you saw a unconscious Pope and JJ lying on the ground as you were pushed against a tree.

Rafe stood in front of you, even in the darkness you could still see the desire and anger in his eyes. “Scream and I’ll kill them.” He growled. “Can I trust you?”

You nodded rapidly, glancing between him and your friends.

“Good girl,” He approved, his hand sliding to your throat. He didn’t even bother wearing black to blend in. His beige shirt was layered with another light jacket and dark jeans.

Rafe’s hair was in his eyes and he leaned in closer. “I told you. I’d punish you if you didn’t do as your told.” Your core fluttered. You knew it shouldn’t but his voice was rasping as his hand tightened. He pulled something out of his pocket.

A pair of red panties. He shoved them into your mouth, far enough you gaged. “Stay fucking still.” You knew if you didn’t listen he would hurt them, he proved that.

Pope and JJ had bruises, swollen eyes and bloody noses. But they were breathing. You started jerking around, trying to gain some sort of release from his hold when Rafe yanked out a gun. You gasped, the sound muffled. “Yeah? You see that?” He pointed it at them. “Do you think I’m kidding?”

Rafe pulled out the panties, a string of drool escaping from your mouth. “Answer me.”

“No-I know you’re not kidding.” Tears came from your eyes but you tried to pull them back.

“My poor little angel, not so tough now, are you?”

“Fuck you-“ Another attempt to defy, fake like you weren’t as scared as you truly were. “You’re bluffing.”

He pressed you harder against the wood. His iron clad muscles pinning you hard enough it hurt. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” Then he moved the gun between your shorts. Grazing against your jean covered pussy.

“This is fucking real, princess.” Rafe started smirking. “Move around a little bit. Give me a hint of how well you can bounce on a dick.”

Your face became hot but you obeyed without thinking. You circled your hips, holding your breath and praying the gun wouldn’t go off. He nodded, his lips nearing yours and your mouth parted.

“Rafe-Why? Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this?” You whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot of your neck. They were warm and soft in contrast to the gun rubbing against your pussy.

“Because you’re mine. That first day I saw you. I was going to have you. John B couldn’t hoard away something that belonged to me.” You wanted to shake your head but he started sucking the connection between your shoulder and neck.

That’s why he stared at you. That’s why he even started the bet in the first place.

“I liked how you stood out with your fucking band shirt and converse you won’t stop wearing. And this,” He pulled back to your displeasure and tapped the gun against your cunt.

“That belongs to me too. I’m gonna walk away, you’re going to yell to your cousin you found them. Feel free to scream and pretend you’re not soaking wet. And you’re going to be a good girl again, aren’t you? You gonna to listen to daddy?”

“Yes.” He stepped away, taking your panties with him. He scanned the scene, nodding behind you.

“Don’t disobey me. This can get so much worse,” With his final warning, Rafe started walking backward before he disappeared.

You waited a few seconds to collect yourself. He teased you but not enough to make you cum. Just enough to mark his territory and scare you.

“J-John B!” You weakly called out. “I found them!”

He arrived in seconds with Sarah right behind him.

John B, Sarah and Kie panicked, trying to wake JJ and Pope. You hastily wiped your face and shook your hair loose.

“I-I just found them like that. I’ve been searching the whole time,” You lied, hoping your voice was steadier than how you felt.

You stayed quiet as they woke by the fire. Your knee bouncing as flashbacks of how the gun felt, Rafes lips. His warnings and worse. How much you liked it.

When no one was looking, too busy planning their wild accusations downfall, you took out your phone. He had texted you.

“Behave.”

You pressed your knees together, concealing your phone behind them. “What will it take for you to leave them alone?”

“That’s a dangerous question, little girl.”

You had to change your tactic. The last thing you wanted was for him to actually shoot them.

“When will I see you again? I don’t want you to break in anymore. If you want something, just take it.” Oh no, the words slipped out before you could even think.

Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes went by.

An hour.

“Tomorrow. My house. 8pm. Wear what’s in the box in your bedroom. I’ll have someone pick you up.”

The tense drive home couldn’t have ended sooner as you stepped in your bedroom. Continuing to lie to your cousin about what happened in the woods. You knew he wasn’t stupid. Eventually he would catch on that something was happening. But his life probably depended on it. This was going too far.

You were so stupid for opening the white small box on the center of your bed.

Lifting the lid, your eyes widened as you pulled out a black lace shirt, matching bra, a thong and shorts that would barely cover your ass. Knee socks and connecting garter belts. But the most toe curling item in the box was a pair of black handcuffs. Expensive kind.

You held them to your chest. You’d have to wear something over them to get past John B. Your conscience fought you, insisting to tell John B. Rafe almost killed his friends.

But he felt so good. It was so wrong that it was right. You almost didn’t care right now. He was obsessed with you and you weren’t any better. The way you spent time trying to find information, the way you listened to every word he said. He was breaking you down. You almost didn’t recognize the person you were when you arrived.

Rafe Cameron was intoxicating and you’d only seen him twice.

Third times the charm right?

He had his own personal fucking driver pick you up the next night. You left when John B was passed out in his room, worn out from a day at the docks. You slipped on an oversized black shirt long enough to hit your thighs as you climbed into the car. You were disappointed that there were no texts today but you had a feeling he was going to make up for it. Or else you’d face another punishment.

The drive was quiet but when you arrived at his house it wasn’t. Another wild party scene was before you, the same changing colored lights on the outside and consistently bright on the balcony. As you got out of the car and started walking, this time wearing your high heels. Only this time you were wearing a hand selected piece from the King Of Kooks.

You hoped you could slip in easily through the front door silently but someone opened the door. He was shorter than Rafe, dark brown hair, wearing a wife beater and shorts. “My bad, come on in.” He ushered you in with a wave and you cringed.

Obviously he knew you. Whether from Rafe or the videos.

“And you’re…?”

“Just like Country club not to mention anyone else. Barry.” He gave you a nod. “He’s up there.”

You couldn’t help but shiver as everyone was dancing, drinking and making their way to the outdoor pool. You understood this could be another set up.

Barry dipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a bag full of cocaine, apparently offering you some.

“I’ll pass,” You declined and forced yourself to smile and calm your nerves. You could do this. You had too

You wanted too.

Climbing the stairs in high heels was difficult enough but fighting a crowd made it even harder. You couldn’t hardly concentrate and you had the urge to plug your ears to muffle the noise.

Once you reached the top, close to the balcony, your phone buzzed. Embarrassingly, you yanked it out of your clutch.

“Colder.” You jerked your head around, looking for any sign of him. No one. He wasn’t here. No one looked even close to him.

You went left towards another lounge, peering inside the darker room where they were dancing.

“Even colder.”

Okay, you were very clearly not in the right direction.

But you needed something to give you a boost. Marching towards a brunette young man holding two cups, you reached out your hand. “Can I have that?” He stammered but handed it over.

Without even knowing the content, you gulped it down before gagging. Whatever concoction was strong and had you coughing.

But then you took the other one. “Hey!” He protested but you ignored him, going to the opposite side.

You threw them both on the ground, a surge of electricity going through your veins.

“Warmer.” It said when you fished out your phone from your bra.

You resisted wiping your mouth, not wanting to ruin your makeup. Your legs carried you down a hallway, the noise growing into a quieter thump against the walls. There were no photos. Almost no signs of living if you imagined the guests gone. The clacking of your shoes neared the first door.

“Hot. Almost there.”

Swallowing, you walked past the second door.

“Hotter.”

You breathed like you were blowing out a candle as you drew to the third door.

“Open it, pretty girl.”

The alcohol must have given you an extra boost as you opened the door roughly, your lips forming a natural pout as you took in Rafe standing beside a bed. He was wearing a three quarter length white shirt with small strips and the same dark jeans as he did in the woods. His hair was messy, like he constantly ran his fingers through it.

His entire body radiated danger, lust and control.

But his eyes held a fire, one you were terrified and eager to provoke.

To the right of him was a large desk with several monitors and a laptop. Your mouth parted into a gasp when you saw they were all live feeds.

One of them was outside your room, the others were at the docks and the rest were of his own home. That’s how he was watching you.

“You-you’ve really been stalking me.” You whispered.

“It’s really not that hard. You make it too easy.” He mused with a low voice. “But I’m-I’m having a hard time understanding why you’re wearing something other than what I gave you.”

“Don’t change the subject, Rafe. This isn’t okay. You’re going to stop. I did everything you wanted. Now you leave John b and the rest alone.” Your voice wasn’t steady. From nervousness and the drinks.

And he knew that from the way a smirk formed on his pink lips. “But not you?” He clicked his tongue. “Naughty girl. You don’t want me to leave you alone. I didn’t forget our last…meeting.” His eyes lingered around your hips. “With a gun to your pussy.”

“No, no, stop. I don’t know-I don’t like you.”

Rafe only stepped closer, inching towards you. “Your body does.. Your pussy love our little games. You’ve had so many chances to run. Not that they would work-“ He chuckled darkly. “But you’re doing everything I want you too.”

His hand shot out and ripped the shirt in half. You shrieked, your legs almost buckling as your body was exposed. Rafes breathed in the scent of your perfume as he roamed with his fingers the lingerie, his palms falling to your tits, squeezing before he gripped your waist and spun you around. Your ass against his cock.

“Move like you bounced on my gun,” He ordered against your ear, his warm breath and you could feel his lips trace the side of your jaw.

All your thoughts disappeared as he guided you to grind against him, your pussy dampening the material as your eyes drifted shut. His own breathing quickened as your hand flew behind to palm him.

“Dirty slut, you’re so scared but I know you’re fucking dripping.” He was so tall that he could slip his hand easily between your legs and gather the slick leaking from your center. He then shoved it in your mouth, forcing you to suck.

“That’s all fucking mine, I don’t care if you hate me. I want you to fucking hate me. You like that I stalked you. Watch you, that I know everything.” He was growing more aggressive as he threw you face down on the bed, ripping off your shorts, he slapped your ass hard enough you jolted.

You heard his belt and pants drop as he manhandled you, wrapping your hair around his free hand as you felt his dick line up to your pussy. “Say you hate me,” He spat and slammed into you without warning.

You almost screamed from the stretch and fullness as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t even breathe from the hold he had on your hair, as you started rubbing your clit. “I-“ You tried, barely managing to squeak.

“Say it!” He yelled, slapping your ass again and you fell on your hands.

“I hate you!” You gasped for air and he pushed your head down. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Your core clenched around him as your stomach tightened, you were so close, so fucking close. Rafe moaned deeply, his movements slowing but still brutal.

He spilled into you and you came right after. Sweat dripped from your face as you jerked. Your mouth was still open, spit gathering and you wiped it off. Your breathing slowed as he pulled out, releasing you to flop on the mattress. Your makeup stains the white comforter.

Trying to calm down and assess the situation you got yourself into, you heard Rafe clear his throat in an expected manner.

You crawled around as he pulled up his pants. “I hope you liked that, because that’s the last time you get to cum tonight.”

“W-“

“You forgot to bring the handcuffs.” You almost fainted. Half from being cock drunk, still spilling from both fluids and half from horror.

Rafe only gave you a very threatening smile. “But don’t worry. No one is getting through that door. And besides, even if they tried, I can see every move they make.” He pointed to the monitors.

“I’m nowhere done with you yet.”

Tagging @scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @daivny @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @chrrymunson @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch

Please let me know if I forgot anyone! Comment if you wanna be tagged in future Rafe or all my fics!

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (With Benefits) PT3

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count: 3.9k +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of weed, (implied) RichKid!Reader, jealous!Chris, pet names (cherry), choking, humiliation, heavy degradation, sub!Chris, dom!Reader, I think that’s all.

(A/N: I got this idea from this request. Tysm for the idea & inspiration. Hope this is good.)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

I haven’t talked to Chris ever since that party.

wich wouldn’t be too shocking, since we hate each other. but I’ve been ignoring him fully. I wasn’t even responding to his mocking or arguing with him.. just…

The entire situation of us, two people who hate each other so much, and have for so long, hooking up, is extremely toxic.

And I’m self aware, I know that.

It just never bothered me before... But he was treating me like shit. And I’m done with it.

It’s been a week now, and I don’t think he cares that much honestly. At first he went on like normal making witty remarks trying to start arguments and disagreements, but since I didn’t respond he started to do it less and less.

It feels so refreshing not to have a headache everyday.

Only con is, that we share most classes. So i have to see his face all the time. Tho I just ignore him.

At first I saw him walking a round with charlotte, and honestly I don’t know why she is still talking to him after almost hooking up.

I don’t know what he was trying to achieve with that. But if the point was to make me jealous he is so bad at it.

I’ve been talking to Ethan a lot though.

And like I thought, he’s a nice guy, and he always shares his weed.

Even though I have enough friends, most of them are ‘lunchbox friends’. Well except for Matt and Nick, but I can’t really talk to them often considering I’m trying to avoid their brother.

I feel like most of my friends are fake. Wich they are.

We’ll talk and have fun in school, but if I walk past them at the mall they will act like they’ve never seen me in their entire life.

Ethan though. Ethan is nice. His skater friends not so much. Well I guess they’re just critical. After all I’m not any type of alternative at all, and I frankly, don’t know how to skate.

But at least they respect me. Probably because I’m wealthy but ih well.

Ethan and I haven’t done anything.

Other than kiss.

I walk out of history class, a class I share with Ethan. We walk down the hallway side to side.

When we get to my locker- wich is only two away from Chris’ -I unlock it to put my books in it.

All this time Ethan had been complaining about how his next class would be math and whatnot. I had noticed that Ethan was skipping less and less classes now. I never realized how many classes we shared because he was always skipping. But now he wasn’t. And the lack of tobacco in his system was making him itchy and I could tell.

Once you got to know him he actually got quite talkative.

I look over my shoulder to look at Ethan but see Chris in the corner of my eye.

Chris…

Chris.

Without thinking I grab the collar of Ethan’s sweatshirt roughly crashing my lips onto his.

Ethan, having not expected it, doesn’t do anything for a moment, before he kisses back.

Pushing me against the lockers behind me roughly. His tongue finds its way into my mouth as we start to make out.

In the middle of the hall.

My arms wrap around his neck holding him close.

He was kissing me like i was the only source of oxygen. And it felt good. I could tell he liked kissing me, and he wasn’t bad at it.

“Gonna suck face in the hallways now too?”

I pull away slightly. My breath was coming out in short and harsh pants.

I ignore the voice. Chris’ voice.

…Chris

Instead I stare back into Ethan’s eyes. I try to focus on the way his hands feel on my waist as he holds me against the lockers.

His grip isn’t too tight, but it was firm. His forehead pressed against mine as I stare back into his dark eyes.

“Disgusting.”

I look over at him at the disgusted tone. I scoff. My eyes lock onto Chris’ and it feels like electricity shoots up my spine.

Ethan looks a lot like Chris, but he doesn’t have the blue eyes.

The blue eyes that I-

I pause all the thoughts leaving my brain as I hear Chris let out an irritated huff.

And suddenly the feeling of Ethan’s hands on my clothed skin feels too hot. Even tho he unironically resembles Chris a lot, he isn’t Chris.

And god when did my standard become: Chris.

I tare my eyes away from Chris’ gaze. My eyes locking back onto Ethan’s dark eyes.

While Chris’ seem cold and icy, Ethan’s are warm and welcoming. But I don’t want to be welcome and the warmth seems too hot.

It feels like going out in a hoodie on the hottest summer day.

-suffocating

“Fuck off Chris. You’re not any better”

I say to Chris, while staring back at Ethan. But before I can hear Chris reply the bell rings.

I let out a breath. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Chris slam his locker harshly and leave. And once he does I leave a peck on Ethan’s lips.

I slide out of his grip chuckling.

“Imma go now pretty boy, I’ll see you later” I smile at Ethan.

I quickly take out my stuff for my English class and speed walk past him.

★ ★

I’m late to my class but I can’t help but not care.

I share this class with none of them.

Not Ethan, not Chris, not charlotte.

Wich was a relief. Because I don’t know what that was. Ethan has never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable.

Chris had.

So why am I comparing them.

Why do I feel like the lack of just simple bickering with Chris is giving me withdrawal? Why does his glare burn through my soul? Why does it feel wrong being near Ethan when Chris was there? And why the tell did it feel like Ethan’s touch burned?

Why did I want Ethan to be Chris?

Well no let me rephrase that.

Why did I want Chris to be nice to me.

He’s always been rude and mean. I knew what I was getting into. And I liked it, and it felt great. So why am I missing the attitude.

Am I that much of an attention whore?

My eyes trail around the room. I take in the whiteboard none of the words written on it register in my head. I look over the students, mostly only seeing the back of their heads, since I sat all the way in the back

I’ve never felt so loved, alone and hated at the same time.

I know Ethen likes me, and it feels like I’m using him for escapism. To distract myself. I’m leading him on..

I feel so alone. Literally the only people I would usually tell, are the brothers of the problem.

And I’ve felt hatred so intense from Chris. And I know he hates me, and I know that’ll never change

★ ★

He days seem to pass so fast, yet so slow. And at this point I don’t know what I’m doing.

I stick to Ethan. Sometimes I’ll make out with him other times I’ll just stay close to him. Especially when Chris is around.

And I can see that he is getting more and more pissed off.

I’ve been wearing more revealing clothes. Atleast as revealing as it can get with the dress code and all. Mocking the fact that Chris can’t do anything about it.

I was hanging out at home. Alone since my siblings were once again at a sleepover. It wasn’t like they were always at one. And I feel like they’re too young to party and I trust them.

I trust that they aren’t lying to me.

Anyway, since they’re only one year apart they share some friends. So they both went to a sleepover birthday party from one of them.

I’m sitting on the couch, for once enjoying the pice and quiet. I have a movie playing, but I’m drowning more in my own thoughts than watching the movie.

I pause when I suddenly hear the doorbell ring.

I think that maybe it could be my siblings? No neither can drive yet.

Maybe it’s a package. Did I order something? But no it’s midnight they wouldn’t still be delivering orders at midnight..

I get up anyway trading over to the door.

I mean if it’s a killer and I go out this way…. Oh well.

My eyes meet Chris’ as soon as I open the door.

I go to slam the door in his face, but he catches it roughly throwing it open.

“Cherry, please” he huffs. He walks in his sharp eyes trained on me. Chris closes the front door behind him.

“Chris get out” I sigh. I purse my lips glaring right back at him.

If he stays i don’t know for how much longer I can control myself. I feel like I’m having withdrawal symptoms. I miss the way he hates me.

“Cherry, listen” he snaps slightly. I raise an eye cockily. I shift on my feet and cross my arms. My glare doesn’t let up.

But Chris is looking at me different. He doesn’t glare, he looks at me with… desperation?

“What?” I snap back harshly.

“Cherry, please? Literally give me anything?”

Oh, so he is as desperate as he looks.

“Give you what?” I play dumb. My arms stay crossed. I keep looking back at him, his pathetic state only serving to piss me off more.

He can’t even drive, how the fuck did he get here. Nobody knows were fucking so he probably didn’t ask Matt. But Ubers are expensive at this time.

“You know what I mean. Cherry, I’ll literally get on my knees right now and beg.” He says that slightly jokingly. He doesn’t actually think he’ll have to go that far, but if he needs to he will.

“So, get on your knees than, Chris” I mock back, thinking that he wouldn’t actually do it.

But before I can blink he’s going down on his knees right in front of me.

I raise my eyebrow staring down at him.

He dramatically puts his hands together making a begging motion. “Please, please, please cherry??”

I look down at him. He looks so cute when his eyes don’t look like they want to bore through me.

He actually looks desperate and needy right now.

I know I said I wouldn’t hook up with him, and I’ve been doing good at ignoring him for almost a whole month. But god he looks so cute, so… god

I thread my fingers through his messy long hair. His wavy brown hair. And I suddenly pull him up. He winces at the harsh treatment, but he lowkey deserves it for being an ass.

I hate how he stands just a little bit taller next to me.

I crash my lips on his and it feels like fire works go off. I’ve kissed Ethan so many times these past few weeks but it never felt this good.

My arms wrap around his neck. My fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Chris’ hands instinctively go to my waist. He holds me flush against him and I feel so comfortable under his touch.

I pull off of the kiss scoffing. My hand wraps around his neck harshly. I pull him down to my eye level while slightly choking him, and he just lets me.

“Hm? Did you not get your dick sucked by someone else?” I mock him, my tone is harsh and condescending.

“Did she not do it as good as I did?”

“Don’t flatter yourself” he grumbles under his breath. He has the audacity to roll his eyes at me.

My grip on his neck tightens and he lets out a sharp breath, one that almost sounds like a moan.

“And yet you still came to my house, got on your knees and begged for me?”

He falls silent at the harsh words. He purses his lip staring back at me with what looks like shame in his eyes.

I move him harshly, changing the place where we stand so I’m close to the door. I harshly squeeze his neck before letting go.

“Go to the living room, I’ll be right there” I nod to the living room behind him. Chris eagerly nods before going to the living room.

I sprint up the stairs and with in a minute I’m back again.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you know that?” I glare at him while towering over his sitting figure.

I go to slowly straddle his lap. His back is pressed against the back of the couch. He looks up at me with ever so pleading eyes. Looking at me like he was desperate, wich he was.

“Such a pathetic bitch. Going to your enemies house and begging to be fucked” I say harshly. My grip goes back to his neck as I choke him slightly. Not enough to actually choke him, but enough to make him lightheaded.

“Sorry, sorry” he closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

His eyes meet mine and he looks purely submissive now. It’s funny to me how he is so needy. Maybe I need to ignore him and make him submissive more often, because I like this sight.

I pull him closer by his neck kissing him again. His hands ghost over my sides not daring to actually touch.

I pull away abruptly, listening to his whine.

“Undress.” I says simply standing in front of him.

While I watch him undress I turn off the TV fully. The movie had been paused, but I hadn’t paid attention to it anyway.

He does as I say. He slips off all of his clothing. He’s left fully nude in front of me for me to look at.

He squirms under my harsh gaze. But he is turned on. It’s obvious by his rock hard dick. It’s already red and swollen, leaking pre cum, looking for some release.

I pull out the vibrator from my pj pants pockets. I had gotten it from upstairs. Chris never let me use it on him, unless he was being really submissive.

And since he was, I might as well have fun.

I press it to his tip gently, not turning it on anything yet. I look back at him. I capture his mouth in a kiss. And then turn the vibrator on. He actually flinches at the sudden stimulation.

The kiss is messy, mainly because Chris can’t focus. But The vibrator is literally on the lowest level.

I pull away from the kiss listening to Chris whines and moans. He keeps his hands at his sides. He knows better than to try to get it away. But he looks like he’s itching to just push it away, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure.

“You look so stupid right now” I chuckle.

I put the vibrator on the secound lowest level. But that alone is high enough for Chris to physically hold himself back from flinching. His moans and whines turn into breathless whimpers.

“Answer.” I scoff. And before I knew it I slap him across the face harshly. The clap echos through the room.

I was letting my pent up enger out, but Chris was enjoying it. As soon as I slap him, his mouth falls open in a silent moan.

Chris didn’t seem like the type. But he had a raging degradation kink.

The sting of the slap traveled right to his dick. His length was twitching in my hand. He was sinking further and further into the couch. He was enjoying this.

“I know-“ he breathes out. But I cut him off by turning the vibrator on higher.

His body practically jolts forward in pleasure. He tries not to come right then and there.

His hand grabs my wrist, the one that was holding the vibrator. “I’m close-“

“I don’t care Chris. If you come now you’ll have to go through the rest overstimulated.” I shrug. Then I abruptly turn the vibrator to its highest setting

He tries to curl his body in on himself but I push him back. And within seconds hes coming all over himself.

I keep the vibrator situated on his tip. I watch how he stays rock hard. His dick starts twitching as his whines get louder and needier.

He weekly pushes my hand off. But after A moment I take it off fully.

While he heaves for breath, I start to undress. I straddle him. When he feels me sink down on his tip his hands go to my waist out of instinct.

I sigh at the feeling. We haven’t fucked in what feels like ages. The stretch hurts. But still I purposefully clench around him to make it even tighter.

His eyes are clenched shut. He’s a moaning mess.

“Chris open your fucking eyes” I slap him again. His eyes flutter open.

“You look so cute all submissive” I taunt. I’m only half way down and I’m struggling. But he doesn’t need to know.

Before he can whine in answer I ram myself down. I wince at the feeling. But Chris’ moans are louder.

I start to gently bounce on him. But he is growing overstimulated quick.

I keep on doing that, my glare focused on Chris. Chris’ eyes shut tightly for a moment. He breaths harshly.

His eye meet mine again. He looks purely submissive. His head tilted down slightly, mouth slightly agape.

“Handsome boy, all needy to get fucked like this hm?” I wait for him to answer but he just whines and moans in response to my movements.

“Can you talk baby?” I ask, huffing. I grab his face, slightly squishing his cheek together with one hand. “Hm? You like getting fucked like this?”

He gasps when I speed up the pace. He blinks a few times, halfheartedly throwing back his head.

Another slap echos through the living room. His head is turned to the side his eyes wide. His mouth is agape as he tries to hold it together. “I told you to fucking talk Chris”

One of his hands goes to his cheek. He grits his teeth trying to formulate words.

But before he can, my hand goes to his neck gently squeezing as I start to ride him harder.

“So good- fuck-“ he breaths out harshly.

His eyes are half lidded. The rough treatment only serves to turn him on even more.

“Yeah, you like that?” I scoff. My hand snakes from his throat to his neck. I pull him in for a sloppy kiss. He can barely focus on anything, every sense in him overwhelmed.

I pull away from the kiss. My hands both move to his shoulders, To use as leverage to ride him harder.

Chris throws back his head, his eyes shutting. He only gets increasingly louder. My movements get harsher and more relentless.

I take one of his hands from my waits and position it at my clit. “Rub it” I demand. And as soon as I do he starts to rub it vigorously.

I clench around him, feeling my release wash over me. Chris’ hand on my hip gets harsher and harsher. I keep moving though, until I feel him twitch.

I quickly pull off an hover over him.

I sit down on his thighs, then start to jerk him off harshly. I put the vibrator back to his tip and turn it on.

Chris’ body harshly jerks forward. I put a hand on his chest and push him back.

And within a few seconds Chris is coming all over himself again.

We both pant as I stare at him. I keep sitting on his thighs as I watch him for a moment.

I lean down and leave a peck on his forehead. I pull him into me. My arms wrap around his neck, putting his face into the crook of my neck.

I pull away from him and slowly get up off of him. I pull on my panties, and pj pants again. As well as my top. Quickly getting dressed again.

I really don’t want to, but he needs to go. As much as I missed him, I made it a point to not hook up with him.

And now that I have, I might as well treat him like he treats me.

“You have to leave.”

He pause looking at me questioningly, It’s like he hadn’t expected me to tell him that. Like he expected us to just hang out and cuddle or something.

Which is not going to happen.

“What?” He questions, his tone sounding blunt, almost harsh.

“Christopher, I want you to leave” I say more sternly. I overpronounce every word to make sure his stupid brain understands it.

“Why” he scoffs frustrated. He stares at me like I’m crazy. Like I’m crazy for telling him to leave when leaving is literally all he ever does.

“Christoper.” I grit out my tone more harsh and serious.

I can’t help the loud scoff that I let out. I walk to the nearest bathroom. I grab a towel halfheartedly dampening it.

I walk back to the living room, where Chris sits mildly stunned. I throw the damp towel on him watching as he awkwardly cleans himself.

“What’s up with you” he sasses me. His gaze is judging.

“I hate you, Chris. I always will.” My words are harsh. And the more I talk the more I can see him narrow his eyes at me in anger, growing more upset by the second.

“Just because we fuck, doesn’t mean I like you. You’re a shitty person.” I take in a deep breath. I feel like I could say worse than that.

“I hate you, and you should leave.” I purse my lips. I watch his expression shift. His jaw clenches, and I can see that he looks like he is about to blow up on me.

The withdrawal symptoms of not fucking me were too much, but now he feels the rage. He remembers why he hated me so much. I can literally feel the hatred and anger radiating off of him.

His already sharp jawline only seems accentuated by the way he clenches it. He swallows his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Chris’ eyes narrow at me, but he just gets up and puts his clothes back on. He looked furious.

I hate him, so why would I let him stay, why would I forgive him. He got the Sex he wanted, so why was he so pissy about leaving?

Now fully dressed he walks closer to me, not touching me.

“What’s wrong with you?” He scoffs. His mood was now definitely sour.

“That’s how you always treat me Chris. Now leave” I snap back at him, getting just as angry as him.

“Okay cherry, have it that way” he gives me a halfhearted sarcastic nod. He then brushes past me to the door, opening it, before a loud slam echoes through the house.

I had sworn to not hook up with him anymore. And if I did that I’d treat him like he treats me. But why do I feel so shitty now?

Can’t a girl have sex and then he all giddy and want to cuddle?

Yes but Chris’ presence irks me. It’s disgusting. He is disgusting.

Masterlist

A/N: requests are always open. pls give me ideas on how to continue this <3 comment if u wanna be on the taglist

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos

[cursedonyx]

HL Cast React to you Cradling Them When They’re Upset

Sebastian Sallow

Sebastian craves physical comfort like a starving man craves bread, but he’s very rarely had the opportunity to express it. Solomon was not the hugging sort, Ominis typically loathes physical contact unless it’s necessary, and Anne… well. The curse makes it hard for her to bear a cuddle for long. Sebastian has trained himself to give brief hugs and pats on the back, if anything at all, worrying that he’ll be seen as clingy, needy, or annoying if he holds on too tight, or too long. The last thing he wants to be is annoying, least of all to you. He has to be strong, he has to be cheerful, he has to be the one that everyone relies on. That means he’s useful, and people will stay by him. He can’t be a burden, or he’ll be abandoned.

So when you find him in the Restricted Section, surrounded by books and weeping into his hands at the sheer hopelessness of everything, he’s stunned when your immediate reaction is to pull him into your lap. He tenses, embarrassed by his display of emotion and afraid of needing you too much. But the longer you hold him, the more his defences crumble, and it’s not long before he’s sobbing into your shoulder, unable to speak, desperate to be held, to be loved, to be given the affection he’s been denied for so long. He clings to you for hours, alternately apologising and crying some more.

Once he’s calmed down enough to think straight, he realises you’ve not let him go. He begins to worry, fretting that you’re only doing this to be nice, but you still don’t let him go. He begins to relax into you, accepting that finally, finally, he can hold and be held like he needs. He’s got years of missing affection to make up for, and this is only the start. From this moment, any moment not touching you is considered a moment wasted, and Sebastian will hold your hand, link your arms together, hook your ankle over his under the table, or simply sit close enough so his arm or leg is up against yours. That is, if he’s not outright hugging you or snuggling you. For the first few months, you’ll be lucky if you get five minutes to visit the loo alone, and he gets twitchy if you’re apart from him for too long.

He's yours for life. Treat him kindly.

Ominis Gaunt

Ominis isn’t really one for physical affection, especially if you’re only friends, or in the early stages of your relationship. He’s not used to it, almost afraid of it, having never really experienced it as a child, and disliking the rough, enthusiastic, inexperienced hugs his friends give. It’s nothing like the tender affection he craves, and ever the gentleman, he’s worried about overstepping his boundaries. Ever the traumatised soul, he’s afraid of asking for what he really wants. He knows this isn’t something he can demand, as he has been taught a Gaunt would.

He doesn’t emote much, especially negative emotions. He’s always been taught to hide negative feelings or any kind of extreme emotion, and he wears that self-control like armour. But he’s not infallible, things still get to him, especially as he bottles things up. So when a particularly barbed jab from another student gets under his skin, he retreats to the Undercroft to rant at the air. This is how you find him, striding up and down and shouting at nothing, as if he’s arguing with someone.

Of course, he’s very embarrassed to be found this way, and tries to cover it by sliding back into the careful neutrality he so often wears. You know better though. You sit behind him, slide your arms around his chest, and pull him into your lap, your hand at the back of his head, letting him rest against you.

It sparks a memory he thought he’d buried. He was four, he’d tripped over and scraped his knee. His parents had scolded him for crying, growing more irate as their harsh words upset him further, and then Aunt Noctua was there, lifting him into her arms and bearing him away from the pain and the anger that was all his parents ever gave him. She’d taken him to her rooms in the Manor and settled in a chair, holding his head to her chest and humming a lullaby, soothing him with a hand on the back of his head.

It’s one of the last memories he has of her, and as it surfaces, he breaks. No matter how much he tries to pull it back, he just can’t, and your arms are iron around him, like a cage. But it’s a cage he doesn’t want to be released from, craving the warmth of your embrace, longing for the love and safety that is such a distant, fragmented memory, something that seemed like an impossible dream until now. He feels he should be embarrassed by this horrendous display of failed control, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s a problem for future Ominis. Right now, all he cares about is the feel of your heartbeat against his cheek, the gentle scent of your skin, the feel of your body against his as you hold him so tenderly. To his utter disbelief, you hum a gentle melody. It’s not the lullaby Noctua used to sing, but it’s soft and warm and comforting.

After this, Ominis is much more free with his affection with you, though he still keeps it to a minimum around others. If he’s ever had a bad day, or just needs comforting, he leans into you in a particular way that you come to learn means he wants to be held like that again. He knows you’ll never judge him for it, and he loves you all the more because of it. He becomes increasingly protective of you, fearing losing you, but he is ever respectful of your boundaries.

When he thinks back over all the days you spent together, he realises the time you first held him like that was the moment his subconscious mind began planning your wedding, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

Garreth Weasley

Garreth is a naturally cheerful person, and while he can get irritable, it’s over quickly and he’s back to being happy. It’s very rare for him to get upset for any significant period of time, so it’s quite a shock when you find him in his dorm, head hanging, faded tear-tracks on his cheeks. He tries to brush it off, of course, to make a joke or try to make you laugh, but you know better. You sit beside him and ask, and he tries to change the subject. But with a little prodding, he eventually tells you, grudgingly, miserably, what's made him so down.

It doesn’t take much to convince him to curl up in your arms. Garreth has always been comfortable with affection, and would probably still climb in his mum’s lap if he didn’t worry that he’d flatten her. He’s worried that he’ll squash you and takes a good while for him to relax, but once he does, he fully flops on you, murmuring soft little sounds of contentment as you rub his back or play with his hair. If you try to pull away too soon, he pretends he’s still sad so you’ll cuddle him more, even if he’s feeling on top of the world that you’d be so kind to him.

It tells him that you’re just like him, happy to snuggle and happy to do what’s needed to make him feel good, as he would for you. He feels a deeper bond with you than before, and the rest of Hogwarts can expect to find the pair of you draped over each other in all corners of the castle after this.

Leander Prewett

It’s… a little awkward to begin with, especially because an upset Leander is often a hostile Leander, as it's the way he's learned how to protect himself. You eventually convince him to let you hold him, but it takes a while. Leander is very tall with rather long limbs, so getting him in your lap in the first place is a struggle, especially as he’s so resistant to begin with. He’s already embarrassed enough by being emotional then snappy in front of you, worried that you’re going to make fun of him or worse, pretend to be nice and tease him mercilessly later. It’s the last thing he needs. But, with a little coaxing (and a bit of tugging) you manage to settle him in your lap. Yeah, the height difference is even more noticeable now, but that doesn’t matter to you. You make sure he’s comfy and hold him tight, not saying a word, just letting your hug do the talking for you.

He doesn’t tell you what set him off this time, what made him so upset. But after a long while as he curls around you, his head on your shoulder, his legs dangling over the edge of the chair or bed on which you sit, he tells you little things about his past. Some of them are happy memories or silly stories. Some of them are not. Leander bears his soul to you in bits and pieces, every word he speaks the truth, and all you need to do is listen. This is the moment he truly falls for you, a helpless, headlong tumble, and he would fight a dragon with a wooden sword to keep you from this moment on.

Amit Thakkar

Amit has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and is free with his emotions around you once you two become firm friends, or a couple. He’s a gentleman through and through, though this is mostly down to his natural shyness. He prefers to focus on you and your problems than his own, assuring you that he’s perfectly alright if you find him feeling down. You find him one evening staring down at his telescope, on the verge of tears, as the lens has cracked. He doesn't mind telling you why it's so upsetting to him, expecting a hug or maybe a pat on the back. So it’s quite the surprise to him when you pull him into your lap and snuggle him close, and at first, he’s not sure what to do with himself. He holds himself very still and stiff, and you have to encourage him to relax more than once.

He soon finds himself sinking into your embrace, comforted by your presence and your kindness, the pair of you warming each other atop the chilly Astronomy Tower. He’ll freely admit to you what’s been preying on his mind as the lens was just the straw that broke the camel's back, and shyly admit he really enjoys this particular kind of cuddle. He’ll probably doze off in your lap if you sit like this too long, and Amit is a very heavy sleeper. If he manages to stay awake, he’ll run his hand over your back, trying to reciprocate some of the attention you’re giving him, trying to say without words just how much things like this mean to him.

He won’t indulge often, he likes to be the one holding you, but it’s comforting for him to know that it’s something he can enjoy if he truly needs a pick-me-up.

Andrew Larson

In all fairness, Andrew will be climbing into your lap the moment you give the barest hint that this is what you’re going to do when he’s upset. He’s free with his affection in a more subdued way than Garreth, perhaps, but he makes no secret of how much he loves being snuggled up in your lap. He loves the security of being held, especially if you play with his hair. It’s guaranteed to cheer him up in no time at all, no matter how low he’s feeling. He loves draping his head and arms over your shoulders, and if you’re strong enough to carry him, he’ll fall in love with you if you carry him to bed when he starts to drift off.

In fact, Andrew loves this attention and affection so much he might even make himself get all teary eyed if it means you’ll draw him into your lap and rock him back and forth, even if there’s nothing actually wrong. Once he learns you’ll cuddle him the way he wants regardless if whether he’s actually upset or not, he’ll quit with the crocodile tears and swap them for happy little giggles.

Poppy Sweeting

You’ve barely put your arms around her before Poppy has slung her arms around your neck, swinging her legs up and snuggling into your chest. It’s almost as if she’s been made to fit especially in your lap, her cheek fitting perfectly into the crook of your shoulder. She might play with your hair a little to distract herself from whatever it is that’s upset her, but she’ll be honest with you if you ask what the matter is. She’s always been a cuddly sort, and regardless of whether you’re simply friends or are dating, Poppy’s always going to be giving you hugs or asking for piggyback rides (or just climbing on you anyway). This is a natural progression for the both of you, though Poppy will most likely want to do the same for you the next time you’re upset.

She’s stronger than she looks, so don’t worry about squashing her.

Natsai Onai

Natsai has always been an affectionate soul, but she’s also tough as old iron and rarely shows when she’s upset unless it’s about to overcome her. She learned in her fifth year that she could always reach out to you when she was upset, so that’s what she does. It’s still a surprise for her when you pull her into your lap to hold her, she was only expecting a friendly pat on the back or perhaps a brief hug, but your gesture is welcome nonetheless. It reminds her of the way her father would hold her when she was little, and she takes great comfort in it. It’s not something Natsai will tolerate for long, as she’s always been good at recovering from upset quickly, and being an energetic soul, it’s not long before she’s fidgeting and wanting to move about. She prefers to be the one holding you at any rate, and can sit still for hours if she does. She’s always felt much more comfortable in giving affection than receiving it, though she really does enjoy it when you do.

Imelda Reyes

Lol are you joking? When Imelda’s upset she wants to be alone, and if you try and intrude on her when she’s having a bad day or worse, actually crying, she’ll chase you all through the Highlands just to beat you up. Sure, she’ll probably apologise afterwards when she’s calmed down, but she’s got a reputation to uphold as Hogwarts’ baddest bitch, and she won’t ever let anyone see her cry, let alone in anyone’s lap. Now, if it’s you that’s upset? You can bet your arse she won’t let you get off her lap unless you’re about to pass out or are busting for a piss.

Masterlist

[venuscrashed]

Both Miles x Male!Spider!Reader - pt 3

Eat up

pt 1 pt 2

The rays of the sun had blinded you in your arrival to your dimension. For moments, your mind was hazy. Memories of the spider society replayed all while the urge to fight hadn’t gone down. If it wasn’t for your spidey sense you wouldn’t have detected the attacks about to happen. 

Miles and, well, Miles were fighting. Their faces were covered with their masks as they fought with their last remaining strength. The Prowler was using his pure strength to try and knock Miles off of his feet. Your Miles was using his powers, attempting to capture the vigilante but failed over and over again. All of this was happening in broad daylight. 

“Miles,” you screamed in an attempt to stop the fight. The feeling of liquid dripping down your neck had caught you off guard. Reaching behind you, you brought your hand in front of your face. Only to see it painted in blood as  more of it dripped down your suit.

Miles had noticed, he fumbled and tripped in front of the Prowler. The Prowler wasted no time in taking the opportunity to pin him to the ground. Miles was struggling and groaning beneath him, yelling for him to get off. 

The Prowler's eyes traced your figure and watched as more blood was falling down your face. “You know pretty boy,” he whistled, catching your attention. “If you come back we can get that cleaned up. Maybe even get some special treatment after.”

You scoffed, clear offense in your voice as you stood up. “Well! I’m flattered but if you want to go back to your dimension I won’t stop you.” You pushed out the portal at him only for it to drop in between the three of you.

You all stared in silence before Miles spoke up, “Is that supposed to happen?”

“No.” Embarrassment washed over you. Your gadget was supposed to work for another three years. Nothing was wrong with it. Except for the fact that you had fallen on it earlier, “oh.”

The prowler laughed as he looked up to you. His mask retracted as a smirk sat on his face. He got up off of Miles and took a couple of steps towards you. “So I’m stuck here with you.”

“I’m here too!” Your Miles screamed while rushing towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Yeah whatever. And you don’t have a portal to take either of us back so that means we’re stuck together. Isn’t that right?”

Sighing, you looked at your Miles searching for help. “In order to fix that we need tools.”

“So we’ll get them,” he yelled proudly like he figured out the cure to cancer. 

“They’re from Alchemax you idiot.”

“Oh. We can go get them then!”

You smacked Miles in the back of his head. God he was stupid sometimes, “My Alchemax is different from yours.” While you were explaining to him, the Prowler wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. His chin rested on top of your head, smiling to himself.

“Let’s go get it then,” the Prowler spoke up. He pulled you towards the edge of the roof. His arm wrapping around your waist as he prepared to jump off. You couldn’t see but he looked back giving the slyest smirk to your Miles.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Miles pulled you back. “For all we know his Alchemax is that way.” He squared his shoulders, looking his alternative in the eye. He raged with jealousy, practically caging you into him.

You sighed and walked towards the edge of the roof. Pulling your mask on, you swung from building to building. The city below you moved on with its life. Occasionally, you would hear “(S/n) back” and such. The other two eventually caught up with causal arguing between the two.

“So we’re going in there and taking some tech then leaving right,” your Miles asked once you three landed in the trees close to the lab. He crouched down and pulled on his mask about to swing towards it before you stopped him.

“Who says you’re coming?”

Miles shot up and looked around, offended. “How am I not going with you? We’re a duo.”

“We’re not a duo.” You slapped your face with your palm, not believing the stupidity of this man.

“Oh we most certainly are. Come on! You’re not leaving me here with this guy. I’m going in there and I’m going to go get the tech. I mean who was the guy that got the pc from Doc Oc a while ago.”

“Peter,” he gasped as you pulled your mask on. “And you’re staying out here with him whether you like it or not. Now you two stay here and you’re both on look out. Good luck!”

Both Miles watched as you swung towards the lab, eventually disappearing. Miles looked towards his villain counterpart and scoffed. “Stuck on look out again, and with this idiot.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

You successfully climbed into the vents, crawling through each duct. You had memorized the whole vent system since you frequently stole from them. After making a couple of turns you stopped above an opening. Below there was a lab dedicated to traveling the multiverse. The Kingpin of your universe was obsessed with getting revenge on you. After noticing your trips out of the universe, he decided to make his own. Of course he didn’t know you were stealing from his machine the whole time he was building it.

You looked around the lab and stopped once you saw the piece of tech you needed. A smile grew on your face as you started forming a plan. “Why is it locked up?”

“Why is what locked up?” You yelled as Miles appeared next to you, squishing you two together as he made room to look at the lab below you two.

“Miles! What the hell are you doing here?” You slapped the back of his head. He had his mask on yet you could still see the reaction of pain on his face.

“It's not just me!” He tried defending himself, “He's here too.”

You two looked back, only to see the Prowler give a small wave to you. You turned around and groaned, hitting your head over and over again.

Suddenly, you three yelled as the vent fell down. You three were exposed to the doctors around, and they didn’t hesitate to pull out weapons of different kinds to aim at you. 

“God damn it Spiderboy!”

 You swiftly got up and started to attack the doctors. Soon the boys followed and a whole showdown was going on in the lab.You kicked a doctor in the face and shot a web at the piece of tech you needed. Once it came into your hand. Another doctor punched, causing you to drop it. The doctor started to throw punches at you, hitting you in the stomach and the face. They kept punching while picking up speed but soon got thrown across the room by the Prowler.

He gave you a thumbs up before picking up the piece of tech and pocketing it. He made way to the door and broke it down. Both Miles and you followed him as he ran down the hall. The sound alarms were going off and the building was flashing red. More and more doctors shot at you with guns and threw knives laced with poison. The Prowler jumped down the stairs and booked it towards the front door. He was about to jump out when Kingpin punched him.

The Prowler fell at your feet and rolled over in pain. Miles started to shoot webs but was pulled back by you. Once the web touched Kingpin, it disintegrated. The web atoms fell to the floor and burned through it like acid.

“What the hell?” Miles said while picking up the Prowler. He turned towards you for answers while waving his arm around like a mad man. “How can he do that?”

Kingpin chuckled as he looked up at you three. His eyes were filled with rage, the scar on his left eye moved up and down with each laugh. “Webphobic clothes. We got to create them thanks to your friend over here.” He gestured towards you as he soon stepped closer. “I had a feeling you would be here today. No idea you would bring friends.”

Both Miles glitched and fell to the floor in pain. You looked around in panic while slowly stepping back.

“From another dimension to? Today’s a lucky day.” He stopped a couple of feet from Miles and the Prowler. He looked down at them to discuss before an idea popped in his head. “Why don’t you let me borrow your two friends for a bit. Just for a couple of experiments.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’ll give them to you,” you spat.

Kingpin looked at you with boredom and disappointment. He soon started walking closer and kicked your Miles. Miles flew a couple feet back and the Prowler was punched into the floor.

Kingpin looked up only to see that you were gone. He looked around for a bit then coughed up blood as his head was kicked forwards. He doubled down and you fell to the floor, kicking him in the stomach as he moved back. He kept moving back and with each step you attacked him. Hitting him, kicking him, even bashing his head into the door once you guys got there. 

Both Miles stared in awe as they watched you practically killing Kingpin. “That's my crazy boy,” the Prowler said. Miles glared at him before looking back towards you.

Kingpin was coughing more and more blood before a look of anger came onto his face. The sun shined down on you two before he threw a punch. “Today’s the day I learn who you are (S/n).” He fell onto the floor, groaning in pain as you stepped over him. You sat on his chest and punched him over and over again. The sound of your fist meeting his face was so loud that the boys could hear it from the inside. Kingpin’s face was drenched in blood as you showed no mercy. Laying in a pool of his own blood he looked up towards you and with the last bit of strength that he had he asked, “Who are you?”

“THE Spiderman.” With one last punch to his face you moved back. Your costume was covered in his blood and your mask slipped off. Kingpin looked up and was in shock seeing your face.

“You? You-” the sound of a bus honking covered his words as it drove over him.

Both Miles ran out and watched as Kingpin was left there covered in blood and tire tracks.

“Seriously my crazy boy,” the Prowler said while wrapping a hand over your shoulder. “We won.”

For once your Miles started beaming and even high fived the Prowler. He turned back to Kingpin's body before turning around. “Let's go before the police are called.”

“Yeah,” you whispered in a daze. “Let's go back.”

[rebelspykatie]

While you all wait for the anticipated first date, here’s an alternate ending that I wrote before deciding to take this story in a different direction. This is in reference to my Soulmate AU you can find here. 

Soulmate AU Alternate Ending

They dance around each other for the rest of the year, and Steve quietly graduates, still never having spoken a word to Eddie. That is, until Steve’s father forces him to get a job over the summer.  

When Eddie wanders into Scoops one slow evening, he comes to a halt in front of Steve, looking between him and Robin with wild eyes, like a deer staring down the barrel of a hunters gun.

Robin is watching them, fascinated and a little intrigued by the absolute silence that they seem to be trapped in.

“You gonna order something, Munson?”

Eddie barely looks like he heard her, not looking away from Steve, but he mumbles out an order for one vanilla cone. Robin works around Steve, who is unmoving from his spot leaning against the counter, scooping up vanilla into a cone and holding it out over the freezer.

Eddie finally snaps out of it and goes to pay, which makes Steve realize how he was frozen in place, just watching Eddie. Steve shoves Robin aside and moves to take Eddie’s money. When their hands meet, you can almost see the electricity that passes between them, both pulling their hands back like they’ve been shocked.

“Enjoy your ice cream,” Steve says, looking at Eddie from under thick lashes and fiddling with the cuff on his wrist covering up Eddie’s name. He’s never been close enough to see the dark red stain of Steve’s lips but now it’s all he can focus on.

He can’t work up the courage to say anything back, just nods and takes his cone to a corner booth. It’s conveniently placed where he can see Robin and Steve working, the later routinely glancing in Eddie’s direction while he licks away at the cone, cheeks a faint pink color Eddie’s pretty sure he’s imagining.

Eddie wandered into Scoops close to closing, the regular mass of people dwindling down to just a few stragglers and mall employees. So it’s easy to pick up on the whispered conversation Robin and Steve are having behind the register.

Steve’s cleaning the counters and Robin is refilling the dispensers of spoons and napkins, but they’re arguing. Something about giving it a shot and what harm can it do. Robin receives a lot of bitchy little sneers that almost make Eddie laugh from his vantage point.

He almost chokes on his tongue when they stop arguing and Robin shoves Steve out from behind the counter with a bottle of cleaning spray and a rag. Eddie watches Steve make the rounds, cleaning the few tables that sat between him and the register, before he hesitantly shuffles over to Eddie’s table.

Who knew that Harrington could rock a dumb sailor uniform this well. If Eddie didn’t already have his name on his wrist, he’d scratch out whoever was there and get Steve’s name tattooed in its place from this look alone. No one can ever find out how hot he finds this getup. He’d never live it down.

“Hey sailor,” Eddie says, immediately wanting to slam his forehead onto the table and concuss himself, or maybe crawl under it and die there.

Steve freezes. And now Eddie can see that he was right. The pink color of his cheeks was very real and even cuter up close.

“You and your first mate done arguing?”

“You heard all that?”

“It’s not that big of a store, captain.”

Steve rubs at the back of his neck. “Sorry. She just thinks I’m being stupid.”

“About what? Is the USS Butterscotch sinking?”

A quiet huff of laughter escapes Steve. “You, actually.”

Eddie’s head whips back. “Me?”

Steve nods. He takes a step closer and gestures at the seat opposite Eddie, silently asking to sit. Eddie waves an inviting arm for him to join him.

Steve clears his throat, twisting the rag in his hand, looking down at the table. “She knows what’s on my arm. She’s the only person I’ve told. But she doesn’t understand why I haven’t talked to you, called me a dingus.”

“She brings up a good point. Why haven’t you talked to me?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You’ve known about this longer than I have. But I guess I was just scared,” Steve shrugs. “I’m no catch these days.”

Eddie reaches out and pushes a loose strand of hair out of Steve’s face, who finally looks up and locks eyes with Eddie. “Pretty sure the universe thinks you’re the exact right catch for me.”

They just stare at each other for a minute. Eddie’s never been good with silence, but he feels an odd sense of calm around Steve, like his presence is what Eddie was waiting for, and they barely even know each other.

“You would want that? To try being together?” Eddie nods. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“You’re practically Hawkins royalty, Steve. I thought I was unworthy of even being in your presence, let alone being your soulmate. Our names showing up on each other’s arms is the most shocking thing that’s ever happened to me. I guess I just needed some time to process it.”

“And now?” He says it with this hopeful, shiny look in his eyes, still a bit cautious.

“I think I’m done processing. I’ve totally gotten over the whole jock thing-“

“Hey!”

“I’ve moved on because I think I can really get into this whole vibe,” he tugs gently on the red ascot of Steve’s uniform. “Never would’ve thought sailors were my thing, but you’re really making this work for me.”

A cackle carries across the shop and they both startle as if they forgot anyone else was here. Robin’s laughing as she goes through the register to close it out for the night, eyeing them and shaking her head.

“No one needs to know about your weird kinks, Munson.”

He flips her off. “Leave me and my soulmate alone, Buckley.”

A sharp intake of breath draws his gaze back to Steve. That hopeful look has turned to one of pure adoration. “Your soulmate,” he whispers.

Eddie pulls Steve a little closer and whispers in confirmation, “My soulmate.”

[captainenjolras]

Good Omens demon hcs because the hyperfixation is fixating again

Demons sometimes present the behaviors of their animal counterparts (which is canon but lemme expand on it). Ex: Crowley forgetting to blink, Beelzebub rubbing their hands together, Ligur loves warmth, Dagon circling people she’s arguing with, etc..

They’re very physical creatures (physical affection, taking up space, more likely to get into physical fights) where as Angels are more reserved.

Expanding on the last one: board meetings in hell usually end in physical fights or at least threats of. Instead of fixing this, there is a tally going of who gets into the most fights, who wins the most, how many days it’s been since the last fight, etc.. There’s also like…no work being done down there at this point

Beelzebub’s flies all have names

Dagon loves going to the beach at night to swim

Demons are pretty artistic. Yeah the spelling is shit, but those fuckers can crank out a sick painting or tune

Crowley served as a muse for a few painters/writers, including John William Waterhouse and Shakespeare

Demons eat, but only the nastiest things you can think of. Raw meat, old fruit, expired chips, ext..

The angel/demon views on fashion are incredibly different (also canon but let me ramble). Angels prefer more neutral, modest clothing. Demons, on the other hand, prefer more shocking, revealing, alternative, etc. clothes/styles

Eric is really good at makeup

Beelzebub and Dagon are inseparable and have been since before The Fall

On the same note: Crowley, Beelzebub, Dagon, and Shax were all close in heaven and still are (I know this semi goes against canon but listen I need to softness of lasting friendships/making up because I am overflowing with love to the point that it causes me physical pain). Gabriel is fighting for his life for approval when he starts dating Bee because they trust few people, and anyone who breaks that trust is going to have to answer to a very angry friend group (same goes for any other potential suitors like Aziraphale and Michael)

Hastur and Ligur have something going on

Furfur and Shax like jazz. Idk why this one just came to me while writing

Demons have very strong emotions and reactions. When they’re stressed/angry/in pain, their true forms/demonic features begin to become more prominent (Crowley with the lightning)

When they were a Seraph, Beelzebub created butterflies, bees, and moths along with flies

VERY fast reflexes. Like scarily so

If you want more lmk if not I’ll probably just share more anyways cause once I start rambling I don’t stop ❤️

[parkvcrs]

Dating Marlon Would Include…

NOTES: if you’re here just to hate on marlon, then just leave. 💀 this clearly wasn’t made for you. anyway, for those who actually like marlon, I hope you all enjoy!

• Marlon is the type of guy to be painstakingly obvious about his feelings — always wanting to be on rotation with you for keeping watch, stammering like there’s no tomorrow, always being close to you so he can keep an eye on you, laughing awkwardly and/or always fidgeting, you get the picture.

- It wasn’t until one night after dinner when Marlon pulled you off to the side to ask you the special question, “Y/n… can we…” he couldn’t finish his sentence because of how nervous he was. You knew what he was trying to ask but you still wanted to hear him say it, so you just looked at him, smiling as Marlon finally mustered up the courage to finish, “Can we be… y’know… boyfriend and girlfriend?”

- You said yes. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fair and good-hearted. Marlon has his faults, sure, but who doesn’t? You accept him.

• You’re his first love

• How does Marlon show affection? A lot of ways! There are times when he won’t be upfront about it. Those times that he argued with you because you were being careless around walkers and almost got bit? It’s because Marlon cares for you and the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt…

• I’m convinced his love language is quality time and/or acts of service

• Because you’re bound to be around Marlon a lot, there is a high chance that you’ll end up being Rosie’s favorite person!

- (Except for Marlon, of course. No one tops him. Or at least in Rosie’s world).

• Marlon’s kisses are gentle and sweet

• I want to say that out of all the Ericson’s boys, Marlon is second when it comes to how lenient he is with PDA, being bested by Louis. It’s not like he has much competition though.

- He’s perfectly fine with kisses on the cheek, hand-holding, things like that. I would say he encourages it, but that’s more Louis’ forte. Marlon is more likely to get shy.

• You no longer have to sleep in your dorm. Instead, you moved yourself to be in Marlon’s room— which is in the old headmaster’s office— which he was elated about.

• He would love Walkman. You find him one on a run and he will marry you on the spot, no joke. I feel like Marlon would be into Metal the most (figures) but Alternative is a nice second.

• Does he get jealous of anybody? Yes… as much as he hates to admit it, there are times Marlon finds himself jealous of Mitch, Omar, and even Louis because he’s scared that he’ll never be good enough for you and that you’re better with someone else, though he wants you to be with him. The same can be said with you getting worked up over Brody but you and Marlon try to communicate about these things as much as possible, so they’re not a problem.

• What helps him calm down? You pull him into a hug, rubbing circles on his back, or running a hand through his hair. <33

• As for your first date, I think Marlon would try his best to be original. Because he wants things to be a bit more private, he’d take you to the shack where the group usually fishes, temporarily making Brody in charge and telling her only to bother you if it’s an emergency. From there, Marlon tried to organize a dinner. Emphasis on try (Omar helped him).

• You both ended up cuddling afterward. Marlon slowly wrapped an arm around you but when it’s time for you to leave— as someone needs you back at the school— Marlon held you for a second longer to kiss you.

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 6

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Kidnapping, Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

“So where are we at with identifying the culprit?” Steve’s voice was tight, even over speakerphone. 

“Jake’s identified the hacker,” Curtis reported. “But we’re still nowhere closer to finding out what they want or who they’re working for.”

“Has anyone tried contacting the hacker,” Bucky asked from the phone.

“If we did that we could alert their boss,” Mace warned. “That could get Ran killed if we’re not careful.”

You were sitting with Jake, listening to the conversation. Curtis had initially not wanted you to partake but you had to present your case to the Bosses, backed up by Jake’s data. You fidgeted nervously, feeling helpless.

“Jake did manage to get a foothold in hacker’s bugs so we can hear anything that they hear,” Curtis continued. “Is there a way you can call him about something? Maybe get a code phrase from him?”

Everyone heard Bucky curse at that, “the idiot never learned them. Insisted he’d never need them.”

“So,” Steve started, “we’ve got a possible hostage situation where Ransom is being watched closely and he was only able to communicate with Teach?”

“That’s actually a good point,” Mace perked up. “Why did he send those to her? To her apartment, specifically? Why wouldn’t he send, or something similar, to someone in the family? Or even to the cybercafe where he knew she worked?”

“Probably because she’s not in the family,” Bucky pondered aloud. “Anything he sent to us, legitimate side of things or not, would be flagged for suspicion. They don’t know she’s connected to us.”

“Then I can go in,” you blurt out. All heads in the room snapped to look at you. Instead of letting yourself be intimidated, you continued, “I…I could go in under the guise of angrily returning his gifts. I’ll wear something he’ll recognize as acknowledgement of his code…something one of his characters would’ve worn.”

“No,” Curtis barked. “There are too many unknowns here.”

“She might be our best bet,” Steve intervened. “Teach, how will you know if your message is getting across?”

“Well, Jake’s only identified audio trackers, right? What if I were able to write a question or something while yelling at him about the gifts? Maybe even write some cards out beforehand to make it easier?” While Mace and Jake nodded acknowledgement and thought about it, you could feel your confidence withering under the intensity of Curtis’s glare. 

“I don’t know what other practical options we have,” Bucky commented.

“NO,” Curtis snarled. “We’re not putting an outsider in danger! She’s not part of the family, she shouldn’t be risking herself like this.” While his words were for everyone else, his eyes never left you. You’d never seen him so worked up before. It gave you an idea as to why his people tended to follow orders over arguing with him. 

“We have audio,” Steve interjected. “She can set up some code phrases or words of her own and let us know what’s going on.” Curtis opened his mouth to say something but Steve cut him off, “and if you try saying no again, Curtis, I’ll leave you out of the planning. Especially if you have no better alternatives.” Curtis clenched his jaw, still glaring at you. Part of you wanted to shy away from him, but you needed to show him you could back up your talk so you stayed firm.

“What are some possible things you could fit into a natural conversation to give us updates,” Mace asked you. 

“Um…well, if I call him “Mr. Drysdale”, like I always did, it’ll mean everything’s okay. If I call him “Ransom”, it’ll mean there’s something wrong but I can’t identify it. If I call him “Hugh”, I’m telling you I’m in danger, please come get me now. Do you think you can work with that?”

Mace nodded and added, “if there are other people there, complain about working for him for so many years, using the number of years to tell us how many there are.” You nod in understanding.

“I’ll call Destroyer to set her up with a car,” Bucky chimed in. “He’ll make sure it has no identifiers that can mark her as suspicious. Be ready to go in thirty, Teach.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, just loud enough to make sure he can hear you. You’re still faltering under Curtis’s silent deathglare. You see him twitch at your words and a bit of pain seeping into his eyes. 

You pull up into the driveway and put the car in park before taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Jake, Mace and Hal ran you through a bunch of possible conversation scenarios to help you practice your improv and keep your cool. 

Curtis seemed to withdraw, focusing instead on getting you the items you needed. He gathered all of the gifts from your apartment to put in the car. He also picked up the four-leaf clover earrings and the Celtic-shield-knot talisman you needed to convey, in Ransom’s code, that the message had been received. As much as his stares made you uncomfortable before, as you left you wished he’d at least look at you. 

You take a deep breath, “no going back,” you tell yourself. You step outside the car and grab the gifts before heading inside. You were too stressed to stand and wait after knocking or ringing the bell so you opt to lean into the energy and slam open the door. You stomp towards Ransom’s office where you see him pacing back and forth.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you scold. Ransom’s head snaps to you, he almost seems relieved. 

“Ah, Sweetheart,” he purred, “you got my gifts!” He walks closer to you and you see a piece of paper in his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Drysdale. And I’m here to return them to you. I told you, I’m not going to work for you again.” As you speak you hold out your own pre-written card that asks, “someone’s listening?”

Ransom nods, his body language conflicting with his entreating tone, “oh but Angel, you know how well I treat you! No one makes you come like I do.”

“Mr. Drysdale!” Your eyes flash with irritation but he holds out his hands, placatingly, complete with the note you’d seen earlier.

As you take the note he continues, “come on, Angel. I can pay you more and you can get back to worshiping my cock like you did before. Please! You’ve ruined me for other women with that gorgeous, meaty ass.”

Without thinking you smack him hard across the face, “Mr. Drysdale, you will never speak to me again. If you even think about sending me anything else, I’ll get a restraining order!” You turn around and storm out, the note now in your purse. Ransom takes the opportunity to get some ice on his face, hoping he won’t get yet another bruise.

You return to the car and drive away as fast as you safely can. Your eyes are tearing up so you can’t drive too fast. When you feel you’re a safe distance away, you pull into a parking lot and catch your breath. You open up the note and text a photo of it to Jake. You can barely read it because of the tears that keep falling. You hope it’s a good enough photo before you put the note back in your purse and give yourself a minute to catch your breath.

You’re about to turn the car back on and head back when someone taps on your window. Startled, you turn and see a man with bright blue eyes and a thick mustache smiling at you. You roll down your window just a little so you can hear him.

“Hey there, Sunshine,” he leers at you. “What’s a lady like you doing out here by yourself?”

“If you can’t tell me why you’re bothering me, I’m just going to drive off,” you scowled.

“No need for that,” he assures. “I just figured since you told off your boss, you could use a new man to take care of those needs for you. And you are just my type.”

Your eyes widen at his words and you go to start the car. He flashes his gun at you and you freeze up. 

“Careful, there, Pumpkin,” I get that you’ve been through a bad breakup with Ran, but I’ll treat you right. If you behave.”

“Um,” you hesitate, visibly shaking. “Can I…can I text my friends? They’re expecting a message of some kind. I’ll just tell them I’m making up with him so they don’t go looking for me?”

“I get to read the message before you send it.”

“Of course, Mr…”

He smiles, making your stomach churn, “just call me Lloyd, Pumpkin.”

“Yes, Lloyd,” you nod. You grab your phone and type out the message to what you hope is an unrecognizable number, before showing it to him.

“Making up with Hugh,” he reads aloud. “Succinct and efficient. I like your style. Go ahead and send it, then come on out of that car and let me show you a great time.”

You hit send and put the phone in your purse, making sure to carry the purse with you as you step out and he leads you to his own vehicle. 

Part 5 -- Part 7

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would. 

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@lokislady82

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[istadris]

The Mario Movie Fake Dating AU none of you were expecting

Bowser : "that human hanging out with my fiancée...DO YOU KNOW HIM.???"

Luigi, sensing this guy is crazy and jealous enough to murder Mario over some girl he has just met but trying desperately to save his moustache by giving away something : "Y-Yes ! Yeah yeah I know him he's-he’s-he’s HE'S MY BOYFRIEND and he's not interested by your fiancée at all he's just looking for me-e-eeee!!!”

Bowser : "Boyfriends? When you look almost the same ?"

Luigi : "We like to match !! It's a couple thing !! I wouldn't expect you to understa-YIIIIIIIKKES!!!!"

(RIP Luigi's stache)

*

Cue the most awkward situation because when Bowser’s spies report that Mario and Peach seem close, Bowser decides to "get back" at Mario by stealing his boyfriend, and starts flirting heavily with Luigi (who is both terrified yet doesn't mind that much since 1)it's better than being dunked into lava 2)when he’s not using awful pick-up lines or threatening innocent people Bowser is kinda funny).

EXCEPT!!  Mario and Peach are not a Thing! Mario is currently falling hard for DK, but both are on very different wavelengths about where they are on the relationship scale because they’re idiots, AND Peach and Toad have grown close and are very close to confess but haven’t found the right moment yet because there’s a war going on.

*Waves hand dismissely* Let’s fudge the movie timeline a bit to give everyone more time to know each other, and let’s have them all meet at the wedding,  THE IMPORTANT PART IS,  it's a very, VERY confusing scene: 

 Bowser : "You want to steal my fiancée?? Fine, I don’t care, I got YOUR boyfriend !!"

 Mario : "DK what the hell ?? You’re with Bowser now??"

DK : "Dude, I don't know what he's talking about !! And what does he mean you stole his girlfriend!! Wait, do you see me as your boyfriend ?? "

 Peach : "Bowser, I will never marry you after you threatened my real boyfriend !!"

Toad, starstruck : "I’m your boyfriend ??!! And yeah!! What she said! And she's MY girlfriend, you dumb turtle !!"

Luigi : "Wait, so you seduced me just to make Mario jealous??"

Bowser : "Well you didn't seem to mind cheating on him!!"

Mario : “Luigi ?? You cheated on your fake boyfriend for THAT guy ??!”

Toad : “wait, aren’t you guys brothers?!“

Bowser: “WHAT??!”

Everyone is yelling and arguing like it’s a telenova climax while Bowser’s army is awkwardly standing on the side because they ain’t getting involved into THAT drama.

*

BONUS/Alternate take :

Bowser : "you might have my fiancée but I have your boyfriend mouhahahaa !!"

Mario : "boyfriend ?? What are you talking about ?"

Bowser : "then who's the pathetic whelp with a moustache who's been crying in my dungeon this whole time??'

Mario : "OH MY GOD HE'S GOT LUIGI!!"

[mayfieldsqueen]

My Hero (eddie munson x reader)

summary: fix-it fic for whatever the fuck vol 2 thought it was

word count: 1.2k

warning: vol 2 spoilers, swearing, not accurate dialogue for what happened i've only watched it the once so far

“What is taking them so long?” Dustin hissed, crouching at the back of the stolen caravan, awaiting your friends return from War Zone.

“I don’t know,” you replied. You moved to stretch your legs out after having them tucked underneath you. “But I hope they’re not much longer, I’m getting shaky.” 

“Have some water, there’s sure to be some in here.” Dustin raised his eyebrows and gestured towards the built-in kitchen, almost too harshly. You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself up and carefully poured a glass of water. 

Eddie sniffed quietly beside you, his hands folded under his chin. Your heart twinged for the man as you raked your eyes across his hunched figure. Unkempt hair and sullen eyes that made you feel sick with worry. You poured another glass of water and handed it to him, sitting so close to him that your thighs touched. He smiled sweetly at you and whispered his thanks. 

The three of you, Max, and Lucas sat silently until the others burst through the door screaming about needing to leave. The ride was jolty and fast, and you fell onto Eddie more than once. He grabbed your waist and smiled brightly, showing his teeth. How he could still smile when his life was in his situation, you didn’t understand. 

Creating weapons with the whole gang felt somewhat peaceful amidst the chaos. You made shields with Dustin and Eddie, enjoying the slight therapy hammering nails gave you. You were tuned out, humming some silly tune, when Eddie suddenly tackled Dustin. Their interaction made you laugh loudly. Eddie heard so he turned around to give you a wink. Not wanting him to catch your embarrassment, you blew him a kiss causing an unexpected blush on his cheeks. 

Your teasing nature lasted throughout the whole set up before and into the Upside Down, all the flirting and winking – to which Dustin would gag every time. 

Once set up, you sat in silence, patiently awaiting instruction to begin bat distraction. Dustin let out a long sigh. 

“You okay there, Henderson?” You quizzed, one eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah, just, hate the waiting game.”

“Mmm, can’t argue with you there, Henderson,” Eddie chimed, fingers drumming against his knee in anticipation. 

“Okay she’s in. Initiate phase three,” came from the walkie in Dustin’s hand. Eddie immediately jumped up and into the alternate version of his room. He emerged with his guitar and helped you and Dustin up onto the roof.

You crouched with Dustin as Eddie started playing Master of Puppets. All you could do was stare as he threw his head around and expertly moved his fingers. The sound ricocheted through your body, lighting every nerve on fire. You barely even noticed how the demobats began to swarm the surrounding area. Dustin’s countdown broke your trance and you inhaled deeply to calm yourself down. 

In the trailer, the two boys jumped and screamed about how “metal” that was as you just stood there, mouth agape. Eddie turned to you and excitedly asked what you thought. For a moment you just stared, blinking slowly.

“Um, it was kinda, um, hot. Yeah, it was.” Eddie’s eyes widened comically, and you hastily walked away from him. “Very good playing well done.”

“Thank you,” he smirked, eyes following your movements. The chittering of the demobats died down and soft thudding started on the roof. “Oh shit.”

The three of you crept towards the noise, spears at the ready. 

“They can’t get in through there can they?” Dustin pointed at the vent with his spear. You and Eddie stepped in front of Dustin, shaking your heads. 

The bats burst through the vent and the two of you started jamming the bats with the spears. You were screaming profanities as you shoved the knife into these creatures, blood spurting everywhere. Eddie pulled you back, causing you to welp, to cover the vent with his shield. 

You high-fived and gave Dustin a head pat, breathing heavily. You swallowed as you followed them to check the other vents. A yell ripped out your throat as more bats erupted from another vent. You ran out of the door, hearing it slam behind you. Eddie rushed you and Dustin back through the gate then paused. 

“Eddie what are you doing?” Dustin screamed. “Hurry up!”

Eddie sliced the makeshift rope, moved the mattress and ran out of the trailer.

“Edward Munson!” You yelled. “Fuck! Dustin!”

“What?!”

“Shit! Help me get back!” You had already moved a chair and prepared to run and jump through. You landed on the ground with a bang, pain shooting through your side. “Wait there.”

You placed the mattress back to where it was before and helped ease Dustin through as he jumped. After grabbing your spears and shields, you left the trailer and looked around for your friend.

“EDDIE!” You heard from your left and saw Dustin running towards the cloud of bats, Eddie’s body barely visible through the creatures. Instantly, you followed him, speeding towards his figure.

Eddie let out a scream, and your legs somehow ran faster. Your arms moved before your mind as you swung your spear, beating down enough bats for you to join Eddie. He had been dragged to the floor, bats at his side. Tears threatened to spill at the sight of him. 

You beat these bats away, and could hear Dustin doing the same, for a few moments before they suddenly flew away. Eddie groaned, he was no longer being tormented. His face pale and blood painted his clothes. 

You dropped to his side. “Eddie, hey, no come on, get up. Jesus, fuck. Dustin help me get him up!” Dustin picked up one side of his body and you supported the other. Slowly, you made your way back to the trailer.

Once inside, you placed Eddie on a chair and removed your jacket, using it as a bandage for his wounds, trying to ignore the ways his eyes fixated on your face. You kissed his forehead before assisting Dustin back through to the proper world. 

“C’mon, big guy, we gotta go,” you smiled at him and began to set up your escape.

Safe on the other side, Eddie pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. He kissed the top of your head and repeatedly praised “thank you” into your hair. You pulled back and placed your hands on his cheeks.

“You think you’re going to die on my watch, Munson?” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, trailing down to trace his lips.

He smiled softly. “I didn’t want to run away this time.” He sniffed, voice cracking as he whispered, “I wanted to be the hero.”

“You are a hero, Eddie. My hero. You saved the world.” Your eyes locked into his, not knowing how long you just stared at each other. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up. You smiled.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed out softly. “’Cause I think a hero deserves a kiss, no?”

You nodded, laughing at his antics. The moment your lips met was bliss, all thoughts of the Upside Down and the end of the world pushed away from your minds. His cold lips warmed against your own as his hands moved around your back, pulling you closer. He kissed you firmly and full of passion. One hand trailed up to hold your neck and-

“Hey! Sorry to interrupt, happy for you, truly am, but we should probably get to a safer location!”

thank you for reading! i'm still devastated about what happened and this was entirely self-indulgent.

[jiminrings]

478 drabble where they’re just starting out in their relationship and y/n figures that jungkook is a silent lover so when she needs help or something, she doesn’t come to jungkook for it and then jungkook finds out and is a little hurt by it ☹️

478: drabble

alternatively, you don’t call jungkook for help because you don’t think he would </3

[ 478 drabbles ]

8:07 PM

That looks good. Text me when you get home.

Jungkook types out simply when you send him a picture of your dessert from the dinner you’re in with your cousin, leaning back on his couch before closing his phone to resume watching his show.

It’s an abrupt end to your dinner, really. You haven’t laughed this hard with a relative outside of your immediate family for a long time — but it’s just too bad that your cousin was called for an emergency at work. She’s paid for the bill already even before you could argue that you’d handle it. There’s just two teeny-tiny problems from your cousin’s sudden exit.

She’s also your ride home, and the heavy rain that’s pouring outside the restaurant is enough to make its heavy glass doors howl from the wind alone.

It’s scary now that you think about it. You can barely see out even through the large window panes, and speaking of the window panes, they’re trembling from how hard the rain is going.

“Do you need help closing the roll-ups?” you pipe in (read: half-yell through the noise) when you see the owner of the restaurant you’ve become acquainted with for all the times you’ve eaten here, his face filled with worry because the once-locked doors already busted open with the wind.

The entirety of the staff is preoccupied with closing windows and rearranging tables, taking more precautions now that there’s still patrons in the building and almost half of them are alarmed with everything going on.

“Yes, please. But if you want to help-“ he looks apologetic, heart hurting at the thought of inconvencing one of his regulars that just happens to have a good heart. “Someone needs to go outside to bring down the roll-up, and crouch back to go inside when it’s halfway down. I-I can’t — my back’s too bad for me to do that.”

You’re not so keen at the thought that a flying piece of roof could deck you the moment you come outside to help bring down the metal roll-up, but if it means making the restaurant (your place of refuge for the time-being because you can’t go home at this state) a little more secure, then so be it.

“It’s no problem. I’ll be quick,” you assure the owner, tugging the sleeves of your sweater back down as if the few inches of fabric would protect you from the harsh rain. You count to three before going outside, much to the relief of the other patrons because the wind wouldn’t come in as much, and much to worry of the owner because he really thinks you’d be taken away by the wind.

8:43 PM

Your cousin drove you home, right?

The rain doesn’t look like it would stop anytime soon.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow at his phone, weirded out that you haven’t read his messages yet. There’s still clearly service because his texts went through, but even after almost an hour, he still hasn’t heard from you.

The restaurant’s supposed to be close to your apartment. It should only be a thirty-minute drive, could even be cut to fifteen because he rereads your previous (and many) texts of the day that your cousin drives barbarically fast.

It’s okay.

You’re probably okay.

You like texting him. You’ve probably already reached home and you’re just taking a shower.

9:30 PM

Y/N

Where are you?

Are you okay?

“Here. Eat more,” the owner coaxes you as he sets down another plate of dumplings for you to eat, practically hand-feeding you at this point because you keep insisting with a chuckle that it’s not necessary. “You risked your life out there.”

“I only closed your roll-up.”

“Yes. Still a hero,” he nods fervently, handing you iced tea this time and doesn’t stop shaking his head until you take a sip. “It looks like the rain’s gonna pass soon. Do you have a car?” he asks, making you chew faster in order to reply.

“Nope,” you shake your head, jolting a few centimeters into the air when it feels as if the thunder outside rang directly beside your eardrums.

“Do you have someone to pick you up then? Ah, didn’t you mention you have a boyfriend now? Booking a ride tonight would be impossible.”

“No, I don’t think my boyfriend would pick me up,” you mutter, recalling that Jungkook’s probably asleep right now. You’ve only been a couple for a month but you know what and what not to expect. It doesn’t hurt you particularly — it’s just that Jungkook is Jungkook.

He cares about you. He’s not that verbal nor touchy with it, but you know he cares about you. You’re just not sure if he’d brave a flood right now to pick you up, but it’s okay.

Love takes time.

10:01 PM

Please pick up my calls

Are you safe? Where are you?

Y/N please let me know where you are

“My phone won’t turn on,” you tut in exasperation, belatedly realizing that it’s been soaked already in your pocket for the ten seconds you’ve been outside. “I need to put this in rice when I get home.”

The owner frowns, still guilty that you’ve got it from helping him, but before he apologizes again, you cut him off with a smile.

“Do you have a landline?” you sheepishly ask. “I might need to call a friend. I’m about seventy percent sure he’ll drive me home.”

10:30 PM

Y/N where are you???

I’ve been calling you for the past hour

Are you home? Do you just have no service??? Is the power out???

Are you at the restaurant?? Are you with your cousin??

Where are you?

47 missed calls from Jungkook.

6:21 AM

I hope you’re home.

I’m coming over

The walls of your apartment shake.

You were pretty sure the typhoon’s already moved past your city last night and there were only semi-heavy rains left in its wake, but when you blearily look at your alarm clock (and not your phone because it’s dunked in rice), the walls of your apartment still continue to shake.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming! Who are-…” you stumble to the door in a hurry without even looking at the peephole, eyes still half-closed but slowly blinking awake when you see who’s in front of you.

“Jungkook?” you mumble, head tilting in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he repeats, his whole physique looking disheveled because he literally could not sleep the whole night from worrying about you. “Where were you? Were you here the whole time? I thought you were hurt,” he mumbles the last word, eyebrows still furrowed.

“I came home at what, 12 in the morning? I didn’t have a ride home when I last texted you at 8 because my cousin had to leave for a work emergency,” you recall, wincing in recollection because your body’s still heavy from the fatigue.

“What? But you don’t have a car. It was flooding last night,” he gulps, mouth still parted in worry even if he can see you right now in one piece. “How in the hell did you come home?”

“I called Yoongi.”

You shrug as you let your boyfriend know, the moment suddenly becoming tense because you realize now that you haven’t even invited him inside.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Jungkook looks hurt, seeing more emotion now than you’ve ever seen him from the whole month you’ve been together. It makes you falter, the guilt rising to your throat.

“I didn’t know if you would answer.”

Jungkook mentally staggers at that, heart dipping in hurt.

He bites his upper lip in worry, deep into his thoughts that it’s his fault that you’ve started to doubt if he would even show up when you need help.

“Of course I would answer,” he mumbles, taking you into a deep embrace that you freeze into before you melt into his tight hold. “It’s you. I’ll always answer if it’s you.”

[star-rie]

when your servant is a little shite

-----------------------

Then Merlin looks at Gaius, who’s sitting there, eyeing him as if he knows what Merlin is going to do.

‘Merlin, no’

‘Merlin yes’

or

Merlin tests the limits of Arthur’s patience.

-----------------------

alternatively, ao3 link

original prompt

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4 (you're here), PART 5, PART 6

-----------------------

Arthur is waiting for a trial.

Earlier that day, a woman had come crying at the castle gate. Begging an audience with the king. She brought her son’s corpse, blaming it on her neighbor.

He cried innocence when the guards dragged him from his home into Camelot’s cell. And so here they are, in the throne room, airtight, waiting for their trial.

Merlin knows the truth; of course he does; he did his own investigation behind Arthur’s back. He sort of had a plan for how this trial would play out, and he hoped he could execute it.

“What’s taking them so long?” Arthur asks from his throne, and Merlin shrugs.

Arthur sighs, staring intently at the door. Five minutes later, they hadn't arrived yet. “Did we get the time right?”

“Yes, twelve on the dot sire, they’re late." Merlin said

It’s not an unusual occurrence; there was that one time they had to cancel a trial because the witness didn’t show up. They were later found dead in the forest.

Arthur stands and says, “I’m going to look for them.”

Merlin immediately stops him, sitting him down on his throne. “My Lord, you must remember, patience is key.”

“What use does the key have if the problem isn’t here yet?”

Right, that was a bad analogy. But Arthur can’t go outside because, well, let’s just say Merlin prepared something that he didn’t want Arthur to see. Merlin starts to think of ways to keep Arthur in place.

They’ll come eventually, Merlin is confident. But for how long, he’s not sure.

Merlin looks at the door, still tightly shut. Hm. And then he looks at Arthur and the empty throne beside him.

Oh.

Well, Merlin had been wanting to test this theory for a while, but he couldn’t do so without looking absolutely disrespectful and rude. And truthfully, he still feels embarrassed about the stunt he pulled at the second annual economics conference.

But seeing Sir Lunard and his friend’s faces after the conference brings him joys he cannot describe. They’re here too, in the corner of the room, probably gossiping about Merlin again. I can’t blame them.

Merlin looks at the empty throne again. Mulling over his choices. Well, this might be rude and disrespectful, but at least it kept Arthur sitting.

So Merlin pats Arthur’s shoulder, giving him what hopefully is a reassuring smile before he goes to sit on the Queen’s chair. If the court wasn’t looking at them, they’re staring now.

Merlin could already feel another round of lecturing tonight from the old man across the room.

“Merlin, what are you doing?” Arthur asks for the third time that week.

“I am sitting, sir, because my legs are tired." that was the same excuse as last time. “And I want to see if what you said about the chair being as hard as ‘Gwen's flooring back when I disguised myself as a peasant’ is true.”

Arthur's face gapes like a fish, trying to make sense of what’s happening, but before he could argue, the group came in, the mother and a man, accompanied by a set of guards.

The mother was hysterical, and the man was pale. Meanwhile, the guards are silently questioning Merlin’s position on the queen's throne. It would have been funny if not for the dead baby on the floor.

“My son, my poor son,” she cried loudly, sniffing into her cloth.

“I didn’t do it!” The man cried and did not question why there are two men sitting on the throne when there’s supposed to be one king.

“Now let’s just be calm." Arthur was caught off guard by the mother’s wail, holding her son’s body close to her chest.

“This rascal snuck into my house to steal my gold, and he killed my son! How could you do this? He’s only a baby!”

“I didn’t do it! I swear it's my mother’s name!” he begs, kneeling on the floor. “You have to believe me, your majesty, this woman is framing me!”

“How could you say such cruel things? The proof is there!”

“It’s not proof! It’s all lies!!” He said, gripping his hair so hard it might fall off his scalp. "Please, your majesty!”

“My son, your highness! My son is dead!”

“She’s lying, your highness!”

“Don’t believe anything that came out of this thief’s mouth.“

"Stop,” Arthur said, silencing them. Arthur massages his temple, thinking for a while, before he turns to look at Merlin. “What do you think?”

Merlin, having already figured everything out, said to him, "Well, for starters, Gaius, do you mind analyzing the cause of death?”

“Isn’t it clear? He gutted his throat! It’s all there to see!” she said

“It’s true, sir." Elyan said, presenting a bloody hatchet. “This was found at the man’s home.”

The court whispers loudly at this new revelation. Merlin leans on his hand. “Then I assumed you would have no problem if the court physician were to check his body.”

“Search all you want, you won’t find anything,” she laughs. Merlin nods at her, and Gaius goes to check on the baby. It took a few minutes before Gaius widened his eyes, obviously faking his surprise. “Why, he’s been poisoned.”

The mother stiffens. The court gasped, whispering loudly, “What type of Gaius?” Merlin asks him

“From the symptoms, I think it might be hemlock.”

“Interesting, thank you, Gaius.”

Gaius stands, and then starts to stare at him. 'Merlin, why are you sitting on the Queen’s throne? This is ridiculous even for you; get off there right now!’

Merlin nods, dismissing him, ‘No.

Gaius sighs, nodding before going back to the audience.

Merlin continues to address the court. “That’s an interesting revelation, but that certainly doesn’t prove anything. Sir Elyan, did you find any sort of potion while you were searching the thief’s house?”

"No, we did not,” he answers, connecting the pieces.

“I see. Now, may you please call Sir Leon and Lady Guinevere for me. They’re waiting outside.” Elyan nods, going outside to fetch them. Arthur immediately turns to him in disbelief, and Merlin shrugs, smiling.

Leon and Gwen both came in with a woman. Befuddled at Merlin’s position, but their faces turned grim once they saw the baby on the floor.

“We were called?” Leon asked

"Yes, Sir Leon, may you please introduce this woman to the court?” Merlin gestures to the woman beside him.

Leon nods. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the shopkeeper at the edge of town; she has something she wants to say,” Leon said, giving an encouraging nod to her.

She sighs, uncertain, looking at Merlin before she eventually says, “It was two nights ago... I usually don’t sell potions, but I encounter them on my journey. So as a shopkeeper, I keep it at the edge of my shelf. No one bought it for months, until... She looks at the mother and sighs.

“I shouldn’t have kept it; I shouldn’t even have sold it, but I did remember this woman coming to my shop late at night, as for the man, I never saw him in my life.”

“You liar!” She screams, launching at her, and the guards hold her down.

Merlin, completely dismissing her, continues to ask her, “And did she buy the potion?”

She was silent, looking at the woman in front of her, and then at the dead child, before eventually saying, "Yes,”

“Does the bottle that you sell have some sort of writing on it?” Merlin continues

“I remember it saying ‘hemlock’” She said she was unsure. The court is wild, whispers turn into full-on conversations.

“But I’m not sure; I could be wrong,“ she says as Arthur raises his hand to silence the court.

“No, it’s alright, miss; that's very useful information. Thank you; that’s very brave of you,” Merlin said, approving her.

“Now, I want everyone to take a look at this. Lady Guinevere, would you mind telling the court what you’re holding?”

She stepped forward, holding a clothed object. “I found this at her home. Everyone is so focused on the man’s house, so I searched at the mother’s house instead. I thought that we could find some new insights and this is what I found.” She said, showing an empty bottle with the word ‘hemlock’ written on it.

The mother has gone pale. “But—“

“I rest my case your honor” he said to Arthur, gesturing for the guards to hold her down, stopping her from attacking them

Then, Merlin turns to Arthur, who’s staring at him, too stunned to do anything. “What Merlin?”

“The verdict”

“Oh yes! The verdict!” Arthur said, standing in front of them. Merlin followed immediately.

“By the court of Camelot, you are found guilty of murder; does anyone have any objections?”

Everyone stayed silent, shaking their heads.

“I object! The king framed me!” She says this, pointing at Merlin.

"Um, no, I’m the King. He’s my…” He looks at Merlin. "He's, uh, he's—according to the laws of Camelot, you are sentenced to death.”

“WHAT?” She yelled at him as the guards dragged her away, cursing King Arthur’s and his lineage to come.

“Thank you, thank you so much, King Arthur. I am forever indebted to you!” The man thanked him, bowing at Merlin.

"Wait, no, no, I’m not—“

“I shall train and join your knight's sire! I realize now that it is my duty to protect you! Please wait for me, my king!" He said, grasping Merlin’s hand before bowing at Arthur. “Sir!”

But before they could say anything, he had already run off, probably to share his wonderful tale of King Arthur.

"He's never seen you before, hasn’t he?”

"No,” Arthur said, pursing his lips and staring into him. And it was at this moment that Merlin just remembered that he had been sitting on the queen’s throne for an indefinite amount of time, probably just insulting Arthur’s mom, his future wife, and his whole ancestry.

Merlin waited nervously before Arthur said, “Thank you, Merlin,” and walked off to brief the guards, like nothing had happened.

It seems like the court appreciation for Merlin has gone up, they no longer scowl when they meet him.

The next time they hold a trial, Arthur insists that he sits at the Queen’s throne.

“You’re the jury at this point; I might as well give you a special seat,” he said when Merlin told him the whole notion was ridiculous.

[nani-nonny]

Another short writing warmup that started as dialogue but I expanded it very slightly hehe :)

I call it “Attached” hehe

Prompt: (set in the rise future during the apocalypse) Leo converses with Donnie and Mikey after returning with a baby Casey Jr in his arms, discussing what to do with the infant that survived due to the Krang in its DNA (842 words)

“No, I just—I can’t leave him. He’s… I found him in Casey’s arms. She’s… this is her’s. I don’t know what to do,” Leo slides down the wall, landing roughly on his behind as he covers his head with his hands. He tries to control his hands, laying them flat against his head but they’re shaking, uncontrollably so.

“But Leo, it’s Krang. There’s Krang in it—,” Donnie argues, an uncertain expression on his face like he doesn’t want to believe his own words. He continues as his expression sours, “And the Krang in it is the only thing keeping it alive. As much as I love our friend Casey, we can’t keep this thing. It will only lead to our downfall.”

Mikey crouches at the baby’s bedside, a crate made with wooden scraps and blankets. He places his hand on the bent railing, staring at the sleeping infant wrapped in dirty cloth. “But he’s just a harmless little baby.”

“Krang baby,” Donnie corrects.

Leo sighs and clenches his shaking hands into tight fists. He rests his head back against the cold concrete, countering Donnie by saying, “He can’t do anything now.”

Donnie frowns, “What about years into the future? When he’s grown up? We don’t know how or when the Krang side of him will show up!”

Leo nods, that’s exactly what he thought. Donnie keeps bringing up his thoughts when he first saw the baby—first saw the flash of green behind the infant’s pupils. He already knows this, but he had hoped Donnie would have something else to say that he hadn’t thought of. He reluctantly admits, “We can’t risk it.”

It seems Donnie is hoping for the same thing as he turns to the mystic warrior crouching on the ground. His tone is near pleading, hoping that the master of mysticism would have an alternative option. “Mikey, can’t you do something about it? Can’t you kill off the Krang infection?”

But Mikey doesn’t give them the alternative answers they seek. He doesn’t even try to hide it in his expression as he frowns, shaking his head as he says, “This isn’t an infection, this is—it’s a part of him. Incinerating the part that makes him Krang will kill him with it. He’s half Krang.”

Leo winces, tired of hearing that part of the infant that he can’t get rid of—can’t save the child from. He pleads this time, desperately clinging onto an inkling of hope that there’s something. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

Donnie turns away from everyone, looking down toward the crease where the concrete wall meets the ground. He shrugs, but only halfway, still uncomfortable with the topic at hand. He tries to hide his disgust as he replies, “Well, you already know my option.”

Mikey snaps in Donnie’s direction, a snarl of disgust stretched on his face as he speaks clearly enough for Donnie to hear, “We’re not killing him.”

Donnie tries to remain logical, refusing to look in the sleeping infant’s direction. “Why not? He may be a baby now, but it’s not like we can raise the krang out of him. He’s part of the Krang.”

Leo perks suddenly, his hope clinging to this new idea, “Then we’ll learn about him. Gather our intel about the Krang from raising this baby.”

Donnie raises his brow at Leo, crossing his arms over his chest as he asks, “Are you suggesting experimentation on an infant?”

The slider early scoffs at the sudden change in Donnie’s argument, a complete 180 from what the softshell was suggesting before. “So now you care that it’s a baby?”

Donnie raises a finger as he shakes his head, “Not where I’m going at.”

Mikey crouches down again, looking only at the infant as he pokes a finger close to touching the infant’s cheek. He coldly asks Donnie, “Then where are you going with this?”

Donnie remains silent for a few seconds, scrunching his eyebrows as he hesitates to say what’s on his mind. He stares at the ground, barely hugging himself before he finally speaks, “…What if you get attached? What if you start actually liking this baby? What will you do when this baby inevitably turns its back on us for the Krang? Will you be able to pull the plug then?”

“…”

Neither one of the brothers responds in turn. Mikey only stares at the infant, finally garnering the courage to poke the chunky little cheek. But Leo, he finally stops shaking. The slider swallows anxiously, breathes deeply to calm his nerves. Donnie doesn’t fail to speak his thoughts aloud again, voicing the inner turmoil he struggled with from the moment he picked up the infant from the rubble—cradled in his mother’s arms.

Donnie releases an exhausted sigh as he finally voices the one question that lingered in the back of each of their minds. He asks the question despite the bitter taste it leaves on his tongue, “Are you willing to sacrifice hundreds for this tiny baby on the small, small chance that there won’t be any consequences?”

[steddielicious]

Okay, so I know I’ve been focusing on the peak bi experience in Hawkins, but I also wanna touch on Chrissy Cunningham.

Chrissy is five years old the first time a boy kisses her. They both find it hysterical and can’t stop giggling. 

Her first real kiss with a boy is six years later, at Heather Holloway’s Valentine’s Day party. The anticipation nearly kills Chrissy, but in reality, it just feels…wet. Her first boyfriend lasts two weeks in grade eight; she doesn’t really see what the fuss is. All the other girls gush about butterflies in their stomachs, so she figures that Matthew wasn’t right for her. Maybe she’s not into redheads? But party games and awkward dates still don’t do it for her, so she spends ninth through eleventh grades focusing on her grades and cheerleading. She does kiss a boy here or there, but they’re sweaty-palmed high schoolers. Maybe the boys just haven’t learned how to kiss properly yet. At least that’s what she tells herself. Besides, whenever she thinks about any guy wrapping her in his arms, she cringes at the idea of them getting anywhere near her tummy before it’s properly flat. She’s working on that though. 

And then Jason comes along. Jason, who understands how much she hates her body and never stops telling her how beautiful she is no matter what size she is. Jason, who tells her that God made her in His image and that He makes no mistakes. She’s still not sure if she believes in God, but she appreciates the sentiment. It’s Jason who stands up for Chrissy to her mother’s caustic comments at family dinners. 

So even though she never gets butterflies when he kisses her, Chrissy loves Jason. Through senior year, she allows their physical relationship to progress and quickly learns to fake orgasms. After all, Jason deserves to believe in his prowess. And it’s not his fault that she can’t even get herself off. She’s just picky or there’s something wrong with her or she’s just too fat to feel comfortable in her body or - or - or…

In June 1986, Chrissy wakes up in a hospital bed to see strangely red clouds clearing to blue skies. She hears Eddie Munson, of all people, calling her name. She learns that she’s been in a coma for three months and Jason is dead and there is an alternate world below and that every single day since he joined the bed beside hers to recover from a monster bat attack, Eddie has been reading to her in an attempt to wake her. 

She finds out later that along with the entire graduating class of 1986, she has been granted a diploma that universities accept as proof of graduation. She defers a year, along with Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, because apparently this friendship is now a thing. One week after waking from a coma that a three minute death apparently triggered, she’s home with her dad, who wants to make things right. With her mother kicked out, her father is thrilled to let Chrissy do whatever she needs to recover. There is a trauma-heavy group of teens that she now claims membership to, who are all going through the same thing. June closes with her strawberry blonde head in Eddie’s lap, sharing a joint in the back of his van and arguing over the contents of the mix-tape they’re planning to make to encapsulate their friendship. 

She feels safe with Eddie. It doesn’t matter that his ringed hand splays over her stomach. He doesn’t care that when she giggles too hard, it comes out as snorts. Loving Eddie means braiding each other's hair and painting each other’s nails. (She tries to sneak shimmery pink onto his toes and he Sharpies over her pastel nails while she sleeps.) It means falling asleep watching Singing in the Rain, Chrissy sprawled over his chest. 

The first time they kiss, Eddie is sobbing himself awake out of a nightmare; Chrissy drops kisses all over his face, ending with a firm press against his lips in reassurance. And they love each other, so much, so of course they make it official. He takes her on cutesy dates to the diner and the movies. They spend the summer with legs entangled, but the clothes always stay on. They don’t take it any further than lazy makeouts and Chrissy feels like she should be offended that Eddie never gets hard against her; rather, she’s relieved that there’s no pressure to put on a performance of passion. Instead, they buy matching owl charms that Eddie adds to his guitar pick necklace and Chrissy strings alongside her locket. 

She keeps trying to get herself off, but to no avail. And even though she shares everything with Eddie, she’s terrified that if she tells him this, he’ll want to help get her off. Because that’s the kind of guy he is, despite his attempt at an intimidating shell. So she doesn’t say a word. On the outside, they’re a picture-perfect couple and it’s not really all that far off. She loves Eddie more than she’s ever loved anyone else and she can tell he feels the same. They just don’t want to touch each other sexually. And it’s not like they don’t touch otherwise. They’re constantly kissing each other’s cheeks and foreheads and hands and shoulders. Their hands are always linked and shoulders always pressed together. She’s always in his lap with his arms around her, just as she loves to drape herself across his back and bury her face in his neck. 

Chrissy knows Eddie has never had a girlfriend before, but when she asks him if he’s a virgin, he hesitates for what feels like forever before saying that he isn’t. 

Summer ends and fall brings the return of tube socks and cashmere sweaters. Eddie loves to stroke her back as he reads The Mists of Avalon to her, snuggled together in the hammock strung up in the Munsons’ new backyard. As the cool afternoons fade into chillier evenings, Chrissy’s carefully wrapped in his leather jacket and she’s never felt so treasured, like she’s the most precious girl in Hawkins. 

Before too long, Steve is hosting a small Halloween party for the young adults at his place. Argyle is in town and attending as some sort of vampire. Nancy and Jonathan are coupled up as partiers from the 1920s and though they insist they’re not a together, Steve and Robin are a firefighter and a cat that has recently been rescued. Steve pulls the whiskers off better than she would have expected. Chrissy and Eddie dress as Jareth and Sarah from their favourite movie of the summer, Labyrinth. They don’t have the wigs at all, but Eddie looks dashing in his waistcoat and she loves the silver jewellery she’s woven into her hair. 

After a while, the trick or treaters dwindle and they’re all sporting mild buzzes or highs as they lounge across the furniture in Steve’s living room. Since his parents transferred ownership of the house over to him in the summer, Steve’s been filling the space with cozy blankets and pillows for everyone to snuggle into. Eddie has Chrissy slung across his lap in the papasan chair, and is teaching her how to blow smoke rings from their shared joint, when Argyle suggests Truth or Dare to get the night going. Even though they’re all adults and this feels like a game for preteens, they’re all intrigued by what will arise that will be too daring or private for a group of people who’ve been through literal hell together. 

It starts off easy. Steve is dared to take a drink for how many people in the room he’s kissed, so he sips once, twice, and then pauses before taking a third sip. Chrissy giggles, remembering an awkward round of Seven Minutes in Heaven she shared with him in grade nine. Nancy is dared to suckle on Argyle’s toes and Eddie reveals that his first kiss was to Michelle Louie when he was twelve. When Jonathan is asked if he’s ever kissed a guy and answers in the affirmative, the game pauses as everyone demands to know more. As it turns out, Chrissy and Robin are the only ones in the room who’ve never kissed their own gender (and Robin hasn’t kissed anyone at all). So when the game resumes, it’s not long before a twinkling Eddie dares the two of them to kiss. 

And maybe the weed is doing something to Chrissy’s tummy, but the anticipation is making it flutter. Robin is crimson and stutters about how she’s never kissed anyone and refuses to have her first kiss in front of a crowd. Steve, the grinning ass, suggests that they kiss in the kitchen, away from everyone’s eyes. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous, but takes a deep breath and pushes out of Eddie’s lap to head to the kitchen. 

Robin follows, now looking ghostly against the crimson of her costume. Chrissy sees how terrified she is and reassures her. Without an audience, she’ll teach the other girl how to kiss. She figures that it’ll be easier if they’re a bit closer in height, so she hops on a counter and beckons Robin to stand between her spread legs. Besides, when Robin goes off to kiss boys, it’s pretty unlikely that they'll be shorter than her. It’s very evident that Robin has never done this before, her hands clenched at her sides. So Chrissy gently takes them and places them on her hips. (Robin’s hands burn through the layers of tulle in a way that Jason’s and Eddie’s never have.)

She tells Robin to close her eyes and leans in, heart pounding. Chrissy meets the resistance of Robin’s pursed lips and it’s so awkward but she still is tingling from head to toe. She takes a deep breath and guides Robin to slacken her lips and follow her lead as she goes back in for another kiss. It makes absolutely no sense. Chrissy can tell that Robin doesn’t know how to kiss (as quickly as she’s picking it up), but her stomach is on fire and she wants. 

Chrissy pulls back and takes in Robin’s slick red lips and massive pupils, and feels the tightness of the fabric at her waist as Robin clings on. Somehow, her own hands have migrated to cradling Robin’s face. This can’t be the end, so she tells Robin about the next lesson. Hands. Hands can go on the waist or around the back or in the hair or touching the shoulders or-

Robin cuts her off by looping her arms completely around Chrissy and scooping her back in. Chrissy’s own fly around Robin’s neck and tug her into another kiss, this time at a better angle and hotter, messier. Her legs have encircled Robin’s waist and she’s burning inside. She wants and wants and she’s never felt anything like this before. She catches herself grinding against Robin and freezes, pulling back. 

Maybe it’s time to head back to the rest of the party. She tells Robin that she’s clearly gotten the hang of kissing, as she hops off the counter and helps the other girl fix her lipstick.

I did that, Chrissy thinks giddily. Fuck. 

The others are glued to Argyle and Eddie trying to high five with their eyes closed and don’t notice as Robin slips in to lay her head on Steve’s lap and Chrissy curls into a ball on the papasan. The game continues, but Chrissy’s mind is whirling. 

Why did this feel better than any other time she’s been kissed? Is it the weed? Does Robin have magic lips? Is it a fluke? Is she…gay? Most importantly, does Robin want to kiss her again?

Eventually, the night dies down. Argyle passes out in the lounger and Jonathan and Nancy take the spare bedroom. Steve and Robin have claimed his bed, the redecorated master, while Eddie and Chrissy head to Steve’s old room, their usual haunt. 

Her face tucked into Eddie’s chest, she barely hears his question. How was her first kiss with a girl? And she starts to shake, tears slipping down her face as she quietly sobs. 

Hey, hey, hey, he comforts her, running his hands through her hair. She chokes as she gets it all out, terrified that Eddie is going to hate her. After all, what guy wants to hear that his girlfriend doesn’t actually like kissing guys? That she’s never been so turned on before Robin’s fumbling lips met hers? That she can’t stop thinking about the other girl’s freckles and if her breasts are covered in them as well?

Eddie presses a kiss to the crown of her head. And shares. As it turns out, the reason he had been so cagey about his lack of a virginity is that until Chrissy, Eddie has only hooked up with guys. He’d never even had a girl turn his head until she’d met him in the woods behind the school that fateful day. And as much as Eddie loved being against what society wanted him to be, he had a glimmer of hope that maybe he could be normal for once and make life a bit easier. 

So when they got closer and closer and started dating, he figured that maybe he’d start to be attracted to her sexually. Maybe Eddie would want to do more than kiss her affectionately. But it’s been three months since they first kissed and nothing has stirred his loins and he’s been quietly panicking about having to break her heart. 

They fall asleep wrapped around each other, salty tears gently kissed away from both faces. 

In the light of the day, they ignore Saturday’s sleet by rolling over and hiding under the covers. Even though Steve and Chrissy usually go for runs every morning, they have a rule about post-party breakfasts. She and Eddie eventually make their way downstairs and act as though nothing has changed. They moan in Hangover and head out by noon. Eddie has an afternoon shift at the music store and Chrissy’s dad will be wanting to check in on her. But in that short drive home, they establish that they’re going to continue the farce, for both of their safety. Besides, they genuinely enjoy kissing each other, even though it’s apparently as a sign of their close friendship. 

November is full of pretty girls. Pandora’s Box has been opened and Chrissy cannot stop noticing Robin’s freckles and Nancy’s eyes and the waitress’ delicate fingers and oh, the girl at the bakery has a smile that turns her stomach to goo. She thinks back to her kiss with Robin and imagines her legs wrapped the same way around the waist of the redhead who works at the bowling alley. She fantasizes about holding hands with a nameless girl and entangling their legs in a post-coital embrace. Not that she can imagine what that would even be like. 

So for their four month anniversary, Eddie takes her to Indy overnight and presents her with a fake ID as a gift. There’s an unassuming queer bar that’s divey enough that Eddie fits in, but not so sketchy that Chrissy feels unsafe. A group of very kind and very pretty lesbians adopts her for the night and shows her exactly what sex can be. (Eddie takes some random guy back to their hotel room since she’s out for the night.) The next weekend, they head back to the same bar and a tall blonde with a long skirt fucks her in the bathroom. And the next, Chrissy buries her face between the legs of a brunette whose hair is shorter than even Jason’s was. The next weekend, the back of Eddie’s van finds her sandwiched between two solid hockey players visiting from Canada. (Chrissy sure knows how to get herself off now, thank god.)

She takes a break for Christmas, sharing a quiet dinner with her dad on the Eve and getting very drunk on eggnog at Steve’s We Survived Vecna Christmas bash. 

(Of course, Steve and Robin had gone all out this year, draping the house in greenery and decorating a Charlie Brown tree with homemade ornaments. And part of this festivity was hanging mistletoe everywhere. Chrissy and Eddie had made a big show of a romantic kiss under the clump at the entrance to the kitchen. Then she started on the eggnog and kept getting caught. First, it was Will Byers’ cheek she pressed her lips against, then Argyle’s and Mr. Sinclair’s. 

And maybe it was the rum and maybe it was her recent discovery of her homosexuality, but when she got caught with Mrs. Byers, who gave her a big drunken smooch on the cheek, Chrissy’s blood instantly relocated to her face. When she finally looked away, Eddie was watching from across the room with a wicked grin. Then Nancy had pecked her cheek and Robin had made a big show of giving her Italian-style kisses - left cheek-right cheek-left cheek and Chrissy had to pull Eddie into a side room to scream into his chest. Needless to say, she was very hungover the next day.)

By New Years Eve, Chrissy has spent half of the past year overturning everything she knew about herself and the world around her (or at least Hawkins). She has redefined what the truth is. 

There’s a world below Hawkins, no longer under the power of Vecna.

Eddie Munson is her Platonic soulmate, with a capital P, as Steve and Robin say. 

Dungeons and Dragons is not the devil’s work; rather, her mother is. 

Her father does have the gumption to kick her mother out. 

Chrissy does not need to mould herself into the right shape or size to make other people happy. 

Some people are gay. 

And that’s absolutely wonderful. 

Because she, Chrissy Cunningham, is a lesbian. 

Crossposted to AO3