#pretty speedy and messy thing but. You get the idea

[titaniumions]

hey so. what if i was crazy

[indigo-flightly-falls]

Newsies Unite! AU

Uhhh woe, Newsies and Pokémon crossover AU be upon you.

little snippet I wrote about Sparrow meeting Race, Spot, and Albert :D

-------

"Hello?" Sparrow asked in the general area of the desk in front of him, looking for the person to let him get to his dorm. "Is anybody there to help a lost, new student?"

A slight bang from behind the door on the back wall alerted Sparrow to the location of a person, but he wasn't moving. If somebody was making him wait, he'd wait for them.

"Sorry, sorry!" An adult man dressed in an purple and orange suit walked out the door, with messy hair and a charmander by his side. "Things got a bit switched around in the storage room, and I forgot there were more students arriving today."

"It's all good." Sparrow waved his hand, smiling. "I just need to get checked in so I can actually get to my dorm and unpack."

"Thank you for understanding." The trainer sat at the desk, and turned on the computer to check the logs. "Name?"

"Alex Widdow." Sparrow said. "I have two eevees and a taillow."

The man (Sparrow finally got around to checking his nametag, which read Fenris Wized) typed a few things into the computer, before nodding at Sparrow. "You're in dorm B4, which is on the second floor of the dorms building, and your pokémon are confirmed to be yours. Welcome to Aeos Island, trainer."

Sparrow nodded his head, a huge grin covering his face. He had finally made it.

Now to hope and pray that his dormmates would be nice.

---

"B8, B6, ah, B4!" Sparrow had been walking down the hall, because for some reason the smaller numbered dorms were farther towards the end of the dorm building. But it was fine.

The doors on the right side were purple, while the ones on the left were orange, so Sparrow was left standing in front of a violet door with a number and a letter on it.

All that was left to do was open the door.

It opened with a small creek, and showed a scene of chaos before him.

"RACE GET YOUR JOLTEON OFF ME!"

Sparrow stood in the doorway, watching as a jolteon of all things had jumped on top of a teenager with brown hair, as a ginger haired trainer (probably the jolteon's owner) cackled at the chaos. On the couch across the room, a short teen with black hair was watching with a look of disappointment.

The person on the coach noticed Sparrow standing awkwardly in the doorway, and apparently decided to take pity on him.

"Race, Albert, cut it out. We've got a new roommate."

The two involved with the chaos of the jolteon, glanced over at Sparrow. The ginger quickly stood up, calling the jolteon back to its pokéball, and turned to face Sparrow.

"Greetings, sorry you had to barge in on that." He said, glaring at the others. "I'm Racetrack, although you can call me Racer like the others. That's Albert, and the short and murderous one is Spot."

Sparrow huffed a laugh. "I'm Alex, although I prefer to go by Sparrow." He paused, before adding onto his sentence. "Although I'll take any bird themed nicknames."

"Ah, a nicknames guy. Jack's goin' to have a field day." Spot commented, getting up from where he was sitting.

"What pokémon do you have?" Albert asked, sitting up and shaking his head to get his hair away from his face.

"Two eevees and a taillow." Sparrow said, grinning. "Basic, but leafeon and vaporeon are pretty decent when you get them."

"Another eeveelution appreciator." Racer said approvingly. "I've got a jolteon, a zeraora, and a raichu!"

"Speedy electric types?" Sparrow noted. "Good idea."

"I've got a flareon, a torchic, and a fennekin!" Albert called from the stool he had taken a seat on. "Fire types somehow seem to gravitate towards me."

"And I have a garchomp and a lucario." Spot added, causing Sparrow to stare at him.

"How the fuck did you catch a garchomp?"

-----

"Hey, you mentioned the one eevee is named Rapid, but what about the taillow and the second eevee?" Racer asked, petting his raichu from where it was sitting next to him.

Sparrow mentally froze for a second, before putting his hand in his hands.

"You guys are going to call me crazy, but I've had these two for almost three months now." He started. "The taillow is named Spot and the second eevee is named Racer."

Racer and Spot both stared at him for a second, causing Sparrow to shrink into the cushions of the couch.

"Well, fate is real and it has brought us together." Racer said with a chuckle. "Was there a reason or...?"

"That's the funny part!" Sparrow laughed, "I dreamed of fighting with somebody named Race, so I thought it was a badass name and modified it."

"Can you see the future?" Spot asked.

"Nope, I just have weirdly good name picking skills."

tags: @trenchcoatsbi (phil here you go. thank you for putting up with me live-asking my brainstorming :D ) @thenopequeen

[stedebonnit]

I was tagged by @blakbonnet to share my writing process!

Do you write in order?

Mostly yes, my drafting, rough copies, and final products are typically done in order just because that’s how my brain works, but occasionally if I get really excited about a specific scene or I need to add some details for a later chapter that I haven’t drafted yet then I’ll throw in some bullet points for something a few chapters ahead before I’ve finished a previous section.

How many drafts do you go through?

I couldn’t give you a number, but quite a few. My consistent drafts are:

1. the bullet draft: a messy set of bullet points going over the main plot points I want to hit and, for AUs or original stories, the changes to setting/characters that are important to building the story.

2. the outline: this is where I break down my story into chapters, begin to write out vague scenes I want to hit and sometimes will go as far as writing out whole conversations in a messy format. It’s not really prose, but it more writing than it is outlining because I tend to draft out full scenes or interactions

3. the rough draft: this is the first draft that I actually write things out in. It’s all prose, I expand on the scenes/chapters in order and write out a full story

4+: the editing drafts. reading through what I’ve written, checking for spelling/grammar mistakes (I type fast, so I make a lot of them LOL, 90% of it is just careless mistakes because my brain gets speedy when I write). I also add extra exposition/development as it comes up, and trying to improve the prose to make it sound nicer and flow better.

I go through multiple drafts like this (anywhere between 2 and 10 I’d say, depending on the length of the story), especially because every time I choose to add a scene I need to make time to reread the whole chapter again to double check for any new spelling/grammar mistakes, and I also have to double check for any plot holes that may have arisen when I’ve added new information because sometimes I’ll forget about established info that contradicts it.

Tell me about your process.

Honestly the drafts breakdown is most of my process. Usually I like to chat about a general idea with a friend and then I start the bullet draft, and then it stays in my head until I’ve written the rough draft, at which point I usually call my best friend Levi and I read the chapter out loud to him because I like the feedback and it also helps me to go through for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

I used to just post things as I wrote them, but that led to a lot of unfinished stories (sorry to anyone who read Sunray, Take me Away LOL). The first time I ever finished a story was when I waited until I was finished writing to post it, only sharing snippets and reading it to my best friend during the process. I think this worked pretty well, but I haven’t finished any stories since, so it’s hard to say if it’s always how I’ll do it.

Alrighty, now that that’s done, I want to tag some friends and mutuals to share their process as well! No pressure tags: @phantom-ellie @meanmisscharles @bizarrelittlemew @xoxoemynn

[dizzyonmywizzy]

looking for opinions on my goobies fanfiction idea [NSFW 18+ warning]

for those who don’t know, Goobies is a fine piece of media craft that is currently in a top-down auto-shooter game format. but lately I have been wanting to take it to the next level and explore the world provided to us in a bit more depth.

The main characters in our story are Hoozey Woozey, a big dude with a hot bod (literally has a high temperature according to the extremely brief in-game lore) and incredible fisting abilities (strong arms for punching, which even though it isn’t ‘canon’ is his primary fighting style in the story) and Spinky Winky who runs really fast and is capable of rapidly firing out goopy globs with such force that they may as well be bullets.

Other minor characters include Wiggle Woogle, who is effectively Hoozey’s pet and floats around like a a blob of liquid in zero-g. Basically no offensive capabilities. She’s just there to be cute. This is the only character who can’t speak and Dizzy Wizzy, who kinda lurches around like a drunkard and shoot blobs similar to Spinky, but at a much slower speed. Their chemical composition is such that the blobs he shoots with it combust in an explosive manner (I made that up because the game doesn’t explain why the shit he kills explodes)

I also am trying find a way to work Bingus Bongus into the story, but I don’t really know how to fit what’s basically a single big dump-truck ass that primarily attacks by bouncing dat ass around into the story. It’s just a pretty overpowered fighting style, so I wouldn’t know how to make Bingus die with Dizzy Wizzy (whoops spoilers)

Alright, now we get into the actual story bits. It’s just a framework so you all will have to excuse the messiness of the details.

All of our characters live on the same island, which is about to be swarmed with an invasive species of black blobs. No it is not a racial allegory. Take it up with the Goobies developers if you see it that way, you damn racist. Anyway, these guys range from little blobs, to big blobs, to amongus-shaped blobs, to spidery blobs, blobs that are suicide bombers, and boss blobs that we can get to later… basically it’s a whole lot of blobs.

I’m not particularly attached to the characters’ genders. The choices will make more sense once you read the NSFW ending but these guys are blobs, they really don’t even need to be gendered. They don’t even need to be capable of contorting their bodies to have genitals.

Anyway, here’s how the story starts. Hoozey is out with his pet, Wiggle, and just so happens to encounter Spinky while he’s out. I guess they’re just doing their own things. Details are still a work in progress, like I said. They feel like something is off with the amount of aggressive black blobs that they’ve been seeing around lately, and lo and behold they start bouncing out of the ocean en masse.

It’s mostly the weak bitches, and their numbers are nothing to really write home about until a bunch of blobs walking on four legs show up along with this octopus looking motherfucker shows up. I should mention that none of the normal enemies are really any bigger than the main characters. The spider blobs are about the same size as them, as is the octo-blob. It’s at this point the characters realize a serious issue might be arising, and they agree to have the speedy Spinky take Wiggle to safety and call for help from their other friends.

So Hoozey is left on his own to fight the big fuckers and I’m going to make this a cool fight scene. Lots of gory blob action. In game the octopus blob is a mini-boss, and it has this thing it does where it starts sucking you in towards it. All I know for sure is I want it to do this to Hoozey while he’s struggling to hang on to a tree or some shit and eventually let go, using the socking to give himself tons of momentum and fucking slam the octopus into a big mess.

Now comes a boss, Amam, who’s pissed that so many blobs are dying (and is capable of speaking). Amam is a big fucker with epic hair that ass-crashes into the ground to launch projectiles in all directions, and can focus energy into big explosive projectiles.

Hoozey’s kinda getting butt-fucked, but then Spinky shows up with their friend(s). This is where Dizzy Wizzy comes in, and optionally Bingus if you want.

They do some epic shit, killing tons of little minion blobs, spider blobs, and figuring out Hoozey can throw little blobs at Amam for Dizzy to shoot so they explode like grenades. Hoozey does some epic shit where, to finish Amam off, he climbs up on Amam’s face, increases his body temperature (he can control it when he gets really mad) and singes Amam’s eyes out with his burning hot hands while the other characters shoot the shit out of it. Amam explodes into a huge gory (for blobs) mess and the characters convene to have some-post battle dialogue.

Dizzy reveals he sent Wiggle to hide safely in a mountain cave. It’s important to include that they need to go back and get Wiggle or she’s gonna fucking die in there. I don’t want any loose ends by the end of the story like “WHAT HAPPENED TO WIGGLE IS SHE OKAY.” If they die, Wiggle will die.

But the calm doesn’t last long. The sea is dark and churning, and it’s because there’s a massive fucking swarm of blobs, big and small, with a horde of amoguses running headlong at them. They have no choice but to run away and Dizzy is so dumb and slow that he gets totally consumed. The blobs get killed by absorbing things into their bodies, so he’s like getting absorbed by dozens of blobs and screaming horribly. It’s awful.

And here’s where the endings come in. I’m not sure which I want to use yet.

The “canon” and clean ending is this: They run to a mountain at the center of the island, blob army hot at their heels, and eventually get surrounded and die, crying out to each other as they get consumed. It’s an epic and emotional last stand where they fight even though they’re getting fucking annihilated. It’s the bad ending, and is canon cus you literally cannot win in the game. You play until you get overrun and die.

The good ending is as follows.

To escape the horrifying horde, they climb up a very steep cliff face until they can’t anymore and look out over the seemingly endless horde of blobs, still coming out of the ocean yet covering every inch of land on the island. Hoozey and Spinky are scared and know that they have no way out and perhaps an hour at most, as the blobs are climbing on each other World War Z style to try and get up to them. They could fight back, but defeat is inevitable. They confess their love for each other and fornicate. I envision Hoozey using his big strong arms to hold Spinky while he… does the thing, but as an amogus it’s not like Spinky has love handles or anything. Idk.

Now I will tell you that this is an impreg scene. Spinky needs to bear Hoozey’s child. As blobs, they have a very rapid gestation period and Spinky will spawn the child in like 5 minutes mitosis style. All of Hoozey’s - gum? Congeals into a blob inside of Spinky that grows very rapidly, splits off, and continues growing into a blobg that is built like Hoozey, but huge and with super long limbs.

They’re very surprised by the fact that this happened. I guess Spinky didn’t know she was ovulat—globulating? I dunno. They were just banging to enjoy their last minutes but it’s actually gonna save them.

Also the child retains both of their memories and is fully matured in like 5 minutes, ready for battle. Blob biology.

The child does some epic shit where it grabs blobs, now coming over the cliff face and pops them like grapes. Then starts throwing them in bunches into the crowd where they explode epicly, killing thousands. He’s like the beast titan if the beast titan could make everything he threw explode.

Together they dive into the crowd, believing that victory is possible and that they can save their island.

Cliffhanger ending. Do they win? I don’t know, reader, that’s for you to decide.

I am the greatest author of all time. Everyone else can eat shit. I literally made blobs fucking an essential plot point.

Anyway, thoughts ?

[dancingazaleas]

connie springer, jean kirstein, & sasha braus | sharing is caring

TY @pernoxes FOR LETTING ME RIGHT THIS EVEN THOUGH IT WAS UR IDEA ILYSM BESTIE

tagging da usual: @izukine @x6nji @erimins @shisoaya @rintarouss @txzierbaby @kuroosperiodictable @fiaficsxo @erenuts @aotwrites @oblxvion

warnings/notes: cursing, nsfw, smut, cuckholding(ig?), vouyerism, exhibitionism(?), foursome, praise, fingering, cunnilingus, begging, overstimulation, aftercare

you felt like you were sitting in a den full of lions, back against connie’s chest while his two best friends stared at you almost hungrily.

“you hear that, baby? jean ‘n sash are gonna use you tonight,” connie’s hands rub up and down your shoulders, “is that okay?”

and like the angel you are, you avert your eyes and nod, “yes.”

the reaction is almost immediate, sasha practically pouncing on top of you and locking lips with your own. connie grunts as he’s knocked onto his back, and at the realization you’re under the beast that they call sasha, he jumps up.

“sasha, be gentle,” he reprimands, pulling sasha off of you and jean swoops in.

jean pushes you further up onto the bed, hands holding your cheeks while he kisses you passionately and way more softer than sasha did. you let out a sigh into his mouth when his hands leave your cheeks and creep up the shirt you're wearing and gropes at your chest.

sasha and connie watch in absolute awe at how strands of saliva produce whenever jean pulls away from you. he brings a thumb to your bottom lip, a sly smirk on his face as he swipes some of the saliva. he wipes the spit on his slacks, once again going to grope at your tits from under your shirt.

“jean, take it off,” sasha says, shuffling over to your body and guiding the shirt off of your torso.

“i was going to,” he rolls his eyes and leans into your collarbone, lips sucking gently while sasha gropes needily at your tits.

you let out a small mewl when sasha pinches your nipple and twists it. her lips against yours are a lot more softer this time around, the both of you going with the flow. sasha pulls away, a small smile gracing her lips as she nips at your jaw and neck.

you pant at the feeling of both jean and sasha’s mouths on your skin, both starting to trail downward while looking up to you for permission. jean’s leaving pecks in a trail on your stomach, fingers slowly gripping at the waistline of your shorts.

“you can take them off, jean,” connie waves his hand dismissively.

jean slips your pants and panties off at the same tip, spreading your thighs apart with his rough palms. jean hooks his arms around your thighs, nuzzling into the squishy skin and kissing it.

sasha’s mouth joins her hands, wrapped around a perky nipple while the other one gets groped sensually. your little whimpers are feeding their already too big egos, and connie can’t help but let it happen.

jean places a small kiss on your clit before he starts to kitten lick at it, cherishing the small and needy whines that start to slip from your mouth.

“please… jean,” you sigh and reaching your hand into sasha’s tied back hair.

jean obliges with a hum, propping your thighs upwards with his arms hooked around them so he can hold your folds open with his thumbs. it leaves your clit on a display, almost as if it were a jewel, and dammit if jean isn’t going to commit a heist.

his hot lips wrap around the tiny nub while gently shaking his head in order to get more access.

whining, you tug on sasha’s hair and accidentally pull her up just a tad with your nipple snug between her teeth. you throw your head back against the pillow at the feeling of the light tugging, something that sasha decides to repeat sparingly at your reaction.

you buck your hips into jean’s face when he lays his tongue flat against your clit, hoping that you would try to ride his tongue. and you do, messily.

your whining and moaning is becoming consistent as you near closer and closer to the precipice of your orgasm.

the instincts of being in bed with connie start to shining through as you open your mouth to beg,

“pl-please..! please, can i come? needa come so bad!” your whining sounds so broken and messy, and despite that it still has jean letting out an approving hum against your clit.

the vibrations coming from jean’s mouth has you coming with something that could be recognized as a squeal. your back keens while your toes curl with your fingers.

jean pulls away, immediately reaching over to sasha to pull her into a sloppy kiss. once she pulls away, she cheers excitedly at the way you taste on her lips. she doesn’t pay attention to how jean repeats the action with jean, opting to take jean’s place between your legs.

she stares at your pussy in awe, admiring the way your wetness glistens in the light.

“pretty...,” she murmurs while cautiously slipping a finger inside of you.

when you flinch at the intrusion, sasha flinches with you before her face breaks into a smile. with new found confidence, she presses another finger inside of you while burying her face in your cunt. you squeak in surprise, thighs immediately clamping around her head. somehow, she ignores this and continues on with her actions.

which are just perfect.

her tongue plays with your clit, almost as if she were eating ice cream. her fingers are sensually thrusting in and out of you, occasionally curling against the sweet and spongy spot along your walls. despite just how invested she is, she can’t seem to get enough. that much is shown when she starts trying to bury her face deeper and deeper into your cunt, but the only thing it’s doing is making the stimulation on your clit more intense.

“s—sasha…!” you claw at the sheets while her eyes meet with yours. and, somehow, her eyes still hold the innocence that they always have.

“gonna… gonna cum…!” you warn breathily, bucking your hips into her face.

unlike jean, she doesn’t hum but instead tries to bury her face deeper into you again. it’s like she’s done this before, something you don’t exactly doubt, and you can’t help but be thankful for that. especially whenever you cum all over her fingers.

“yahoo!” she grins while pulling away, fingers held up like a trophy.

she shuffles to straddle you at the waist, gently grabbing you by the jaw.

“taste this,” her smile is soft and small, something that has you hypnotized.

tongue stuck out, she lathers the taste onto your tongue. her face shows a fond smile as she does so, it has you heating up from underneath her.

“can i do it now,” she looks away while she pesters connie.

“yea, just take your fingers out of her mouth,” he grumbles while standing up from the bed.

he walks a short distance while sasha helps you onto your knees and elbows, rubbing circles into your plump ass cheeks.

connie drops something on the bed with a small clink, something that you know very well.

“bro… you let her peg you,” jean questions, bewildered as sasha strips off her clothes.

“we both enjoy it, so why not? also i cleaned it before you guys got here, so it’s not like it’s dirty or anything,” connie shrugs his shoulders carelessly, as if he didn’t have the biggest hard-on in his sweats right now.

sasha’s bare when she slips the strap on, humming enthusiastically. you whimper when jean makes eye contact with you, a subtle plead.

“hurry it up, sasha. the angel here might as well just fall asleep with the pace you’re going at,” jean complains while palming his cock.

“shut up,” she pouts as she lines up the silicone cock with your slit.

sasha rolls her hips subtly, a soft moan slipping from your mouth as the strap hits your cervix. the noise has her rolling her hips a tad faster than before, the fake veins rubbing against your sweet spot. you continue to whine and moan, eyes staring out of the window through the crack of the curtains.

you feel your eyes gloss over a bit when sasha’s thrusting becomes harder and faster, absentminded moans echoing in the room.

sasha adjusts her stance, shifting the strap’s angle and where it hits inside you. her trusts are speedy yet calculated like this, and it’s helping you get closer and closer to your orgasm.

“cu….cumming,” you pant while tiny tears start to drip from your eyes.

and with that, sasha pulls out the strap all the way until the tip before she roughly slams her hips against your ass. the thrust has you sobbing while you orgasm, mouth opened in a continuous sob.

the speed of her thrusts doesn’t decrease, which has your thighs trembling. you can’t close your mouth due to the repeated moaning, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth and down onto the sheets.

she continues to fuck into you with aggression, and every thrust has your body jolting an inch forward.

“holy shit, sasha.. you’re fucking her so well,” connie says amazed at just how good his best friend was at this. in all honesty, he didn’t think sasha would fuck you dumb.

chiming in, jean gasps, “she’s drooling all of the sheets.”

“i’m doing so good!” sasha beams as she leans over your back to speak in your ear, “i’m doing good, aren’t i?”

you can barely see let alone speak. even so, you manage to let out an approving grunt. you’re too focused on the way sasha’s strap slams against the sensitive skin of your cervix.

“fuck—sasha! i’m gonna cum,” you bury your face into the sheets whenever sasha starts rubbing her thumb against your puffy clit.

“tis’ okay! you can cum,” she says happily, staring at the way your cunt sucks in the strap.

your thighs are so close to giving out as you try to fight back the orgasm, but it’s becoming too much.

you let your guard down for a second when sasha slows down her thrusts, but are rudely awakened when she thrusts into you at a faster pace than before.

“sasha! sasha!” you scream into the sheets, gushing all over the silicone toy.

as soon as sasha pulls the toy out of you, you let yourself collapse against the bedsheets. your legs are practically jelly at this point, and you feel bad for jean when you realize this.

but this doesn't demotivate jean, instead he’s unbuckling his belt and shimmying down his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh. you breathe heavily as he pulls your legs apart, sheets tickling your clit as he does so. you weakly watch jean over your shoulder, and while you’re distracted with jean, sasha’s sitting herself down in front of you.

when you turn your head back forwards, you’re greeted with the gorgeous view of sasha’s dripping pussy. small and short tufts of hair sits at her labia and inner thighs, she must’ve waxed.

you gaze up at her blushy and smiling face, “sorry! it’s just, i haven’t come and jean gets to come by default!”

you just blink, leaning in to kitten lick at her clit. her hand tangles itself in your hair, instinctively tugging you closer to her cunt.

she pulls her hand away while apologizing profusely, which you dismiss through connie. you start licking at slit and reach a hand up to help rub at her clit.

as you do so, jean’s entering you with extra caution and you immediately understand why. his cock stings while splitting you open, a drawn out whine vibrates against sasha’s slit. sasha pets your hair soothingly, letting out quiet moans at your half hearted effort to eat her own even now.

“so fuckin’ tight,” jean hisses, hands grabbing at your hips.

tears run down your face as jean starts to thrust in and out of you, uncontrollable moans stimulating sasha’s cunt.

you struggle to eat sasha out, but it’s the effort that counts. especially whenever you slip your tongue inside of her slit while rubbing her clit with a finger. she yelps while she tugs at your tangled locks, bucking her hips into your face as you fuck her with your tongue.

jean groans at how sasha’s face twists up in pleasure and how her tits bounce just a bit when she bucks her hips.

“fuck it,” jean whispers, palms panted on the small of your back as he pulls his cock out halfway out.

you cry out against sasha when jean starts jackhammering in and out of you with haste. sasha moans bashfully in return as you moan against her cunt, over and over and over again.

if you thought sasha’s strap was too big, then jean’s cock was ginormous. with each calculated and fast thrust, the tip of his thick cock would slam against your cervix, taking your breath away everytime. not to mention on the veins on his cock would rub against every inch of your walls, easily bringing you closer to an orgasm.

jean’s groaning without abandon, throwing his head back as your pussy suffocates his cock in its gummy and ribbed walls. he’s going to come soon, all over your cervix. thankfully, connie’s cool with that since they’re best friends.

unsurprisingly, you’re the first to come. squirting all over the sheets and jean’s cock. he comes a few seconds after you, unable to resist the way your pussy milks his cock with ease.

sasha comes last, loud moans echoing through the room as she needily grinds her cunt against your mouth. you help her ride out the orgasm, only pulling away when she’s calmed down and jean pulls out of you.

you turn your head whenever connie calls your name, but instead greeted with connie’s face, you’re greeted with connie fucking his fist.

“p-put out your tongue,” he groans brokenly, eyes shutting as he throws his head back.

you stick your tongue flat out, half lidded eyes gazing up at connie’s face in anticipation.

he peeks his eyes open, and the view of you waiting with your tongue patiently has his coming.

he cum drips down onto your tongue and lips, which you eagerly lick up with the tip of your tongue. you even lap at the tip of his cock, swallowing the cum that pooled there.

he flops onto his back with a sigh, gently pulling you to his chest while sasha scurries off with the strap and jean into the bathroom. you’re immediately dead asleep, and it has the three of them laughing once they realize.

the three of them clean one another up with a warm rag, which sasha throws into connie’s dirty laundry hamper. sasha snuggles close to you, arms thrown lazily around your waist as she starts to snore. jean follows in behind her, hugging his friend to his warm chest.

connie and jean stare at each other in silence.

at the same time they both speak.

“sasha was right, sharing is caring.”

[pamgkrthwrites]

Are you willing to do yandere headcannons on Jin and Yin too?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Oh, 100% I can do them. I was originally going to add them but I don't have a solid way to write them as of yet so this might be a bit messy or free-formed. I also know some people write these two off in yandere or mafia posts. Give the boys some love, please!

Warnings: Yandere themes, Kidnapping, Forced intimacy, Manipulation, Eating Disorder, Sexual Harassment, Killing, STalking

Characters: Jin, Yin

Pairings: Jin x Reader, Yin x Reader, Jin vs Yin x Reader(Rivals)

Jin/The Golden Demon

He is very likely to see you the first time while spying on MK. You would have to be either at or close to Pigsy's Noodles. He finds you very pretty and jokes you could be a trophy among his many golden things.

Jin is very likely to kidnap you either after months of stalking or a week of actually talking to you. He builds this idea up in his head you would make a great Trophy.

He is very possessive of you and does treat you very well(like royalty) but he feels guilty for kidnapping you. By himself, he is more likely to release you, unlike the other yanderes.

That changes if you ever meet someone new and publicly flirt with them or show them affection. Your getting kidnapped again and this time he isn't letting you go.

He comes more demanding of you and will force you to sleep in the same bed as him and shower/bathe with him. . He becomes very controlling of you, to the point he selects meals for you. He has to keep you perfect.

He is a delusional Yandere, controlling, and partakes in stalking. He won't kill anyone though.

Yin/The Silver Demon

Like his brother, he is also likely to see you while spying on MK. He sees you aren't close to MK but still friendly so decided to be manipulating towards you.

He becomes your friend, then your close friend, to that friend who people mistake you to date sometimes. He didn't realize he had fallen for you until one day you were both cuddling on your couch as "good friends" do and all he wanted to do was kiss you.

That's when he decides you are his. He comes over a lot more than he use to and it takes him 2 weeks to actually ask you to be his partner.

He slowly starts being controlling who you can be friends with. People of the same sex as Yin, then slowly your friends. Like his brother, he can get a bit controlling of your diet. It is healthy food but it does lead you to have an unhealthy relationship with food.

Depending on how close your friends are, they either talk to you about how abusive he is getting, or they go to him and confront him. If it's the first coming to you, you will be cutting them off in a week. If they confront him, suddenly your friend is missing.

He is willing to kill for you, stalk you a little bit, is controlling, manipulative, and will unknowingly encourage an eating disorder.

Jin vs Yin

For this one, you would have had to be a worker at speedy pandas, probably the Accountant's Assistant. They watch you and have moments where you just look at your body. They both stalk you but don't know the other is as well.

Yin would probably be the first one of the two to start talking to you in a very flirty way. His brother gets angry and at home, they get into a huge fight over you.

They keep trying to one-up each other. When you show favour to one the other gets extremely jealous. You only notice how bad it's getting when you're out with friends and they get weird looks on their faces.

They do different levels of stalking. Jin does follow you around while Yin hacks your phone to listen in on everything you do. If you decide to level the company because of the admittedly sexual harassment these two are giving you, you will be suddenly seeing them a lot in your day to day life.

If you choose Jin, he will move in with you, up the security, be controlling who you see, and make you change phones. Hell, he might even move you out of the country. It does not matter though, because Yin will hunt you two down and kill his brother so you two can be together.

If you choose Yin, everything from his points times by 10 and he moves you to a high-end apartment. He also won't be having a job. Abusive and controlling. Jin however will hunt you down, get into the apartment, kill his brother and kidnap you. They are willing to kill each other for you.

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter One: Feathers in Fukuoka

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Three Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: Y/n unexpectedly meets the current number two hero Hawks in Fukuoka. The grayish blue Parakeet catches the eye of the speedy hero, who promises himself he’ll meet them again.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Warnings: Child abuse, Karens, blood, Hawks being creepy, chaotic best friend, gore, shitty parents, deadbeat dad

Other: The amount of research I put into this, wing anatomy, feather anatomy, types of birds, parakeet behaviors, cities in Japan, I even found a good Japanese name for the best friend, since this does take place in Japan. If you wanna know, Izanagi, the name of Y/n’s best friend in this fic, means ‘First male, god of creation’ and I love that name. Actually, I love anything in the Japanese language, it’s such a beautiful language and I cannot wait to learn it. Also, there was a problem with the spacing in the flashback scene so I just fixed that real quick, sorry for the inconvenience!

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin (If you want to be added/removed from the taglist let me know).

You stared out the window. It had taken forever but you’d convinced him to let you look down at the streets surrounding his penthouse. You rested one hand on the cool glass, letting out a breath. Your other hand was tracing the scars on your legs, You had long given up on getting them to heal.

You fluttered your wings, or what was left of them. No matter how many times your primary flying feathers would grow back, it would never deter your captor from simply clipping them off again. Thankfully, he did a better job than other people. He would never cut a blood feather. Well, mostly.

You closed your eyes, the house was so stifling at times, despite the large open rooms, and the fact that your captor would occasionally allow you out into the garden. You attempted to recall the last time you were free in Fukuoka. You remembered a bright sky, blue as your wings, and clouds fluffy and soft as your feathers. You remembered the ache in your body from working yourself all day, and just how heavy your legs felt. You remembered a kid’s joyful cheers when she saw you….

“Mommy! Look, look at the pretty bird! Can I touch it please?” you were standing on the street, waiting for a friend to pick you up and take you over to their house to watch movies and eat popcorn. You looked up from your phone at the sound of the child’s loud, innocent voice. 

“Go right ahead, Kaneko!” a woman’s voice this time. You frowned. Whatever bird they were talking about it probably wasn’t a good idea for the kid to just run up and touch it. You were forcibly removed from your thoughts when sharp pain shot up through your wing. Oh, you were the ‘pretty bird’ the kid was talking about.

Your quirk was Parakeet, and that was fine by itself, but it came with pros and cons. Some pros were that you could fly, even though you couldn’t do that in public in most places in Japan. Some cities in Japan had laws that allowed flyers to take to the skies under strict sky traffic laws, but Fukuoka was not one of those cities. Maybe you would have been better off in Miyagi or Fukui, where you could fly freely, but at the same time, you had lived your whole life near Fukuoka, plus it was such a beautiful city, it was easier to stay here.

Another pro was simple, the thing most people think about when they say they want a mutant-type quirk. The looks. Your wings had three different colors, but the base color was a beautiful summer sky blue. At the very top of your wings, your marginal coverts were a curious shade of gray. Not dark enough to be black but not light enough to be white. Underneath were your secondary coverts, which were white as the clouds in the sky. The rest of your feathers were pretty blue colors. Your tail feathers followed the same pattern as your wings.

Everything else about your quirk wasn’t very fun. Behavioral issues that had gotten you in trouble in school and at work, especially during mating season. Plus the sheer amount of people with prejudice against mutant quirks. You’d heard it all. People thinking they had the right to touch your wings and tail, people shouting to you in a high-pitched voice to force you to repeat their words, people claiming you weren’t human, people insisting you fly them somewhere, etc etc. This was unfortunately something you dealt with on the daily.

Just like this kid grabbing your wing. 

“OW! Don’t do that!” you shrieked, yanking your wing away from the kid, spinning around to see her. Her little hand was wrapped around one of your darker feathers. Fuck. Of course, she grabbed a blood feather. The little girl’s eyes welled up in tears, and she turned and ran back to her mom. Thank the stars, she let go of your feather.

You sighed, running your fingers through your wings to smooth the ruffled feathers. 

“Excuse me, bird!” the mother of the child grabbed your shoulder, forcibly spinning you around to face her. She was middle-aged, and furious. “What did you do to my dear Kaneko?”

You glanced between the woman and the girl, Kaneko. Kaneko was in tears, holding onto her mother’s leg. She had to have only been three or four, she probably didn’t know any better.

“I didn’t do anything to your child, ma’am. She ran up to me and grabbed my wing, which is very painful, and actually very rude in case you were unaware.”

“I don’t give a shit!” the woman screeched. You flinched away from her. She was cursing in front of her toddler? Irresponsible. “It’s my dear Kaneko’s birthday, and I say she gets whatever she wants! You’re just a fucking bird, so why can’t you sit still and let my daughter pet you!?”

Great, she was a fucking Karen. This was just what you needed after dealing with co-workers and clients at work. Getting your feather pulled and a crazy lady all up in your face, freaking out at you. Because her daughter hurt you.

“Because it’s painful, and I’d prefer not to let strangers touch my wings.” You explained yourself calmly.

“You fucking bitch!” the woman was screaming, her finger in your face. “You selfish, greedy little pig! She’s a child, let her live her life!” Shadows danced in your peripherals as her words faded from your ears. 

Cold metal was pressed up against your feathers, you dreaded the snipping noise that meant she was cutting. You could feel the scissors press into the stem of your feather before the metal blades connected, severing the feather from your wing. 

“Ow! Mommy that hurts!” hot, wet, salty tears stained your cheeks. “Mommy please stop it!” You were five, getting your wings clipped for the first time.

“Shut up! Don’t be so fucking selfish!” a harsh voice snapped at you, the aggression making you shudder as you sobbed. Your pupils were blown wide in fear as you screamed.  “Stop, Mommy that one hurts more!” your mother didn’t even hesitate, cutting off another feather. It hit the ground like the rest of them, but something else came with it. Blood dripped down your wings, staining the pretty blues and plopping onto the ground.

“You’re dirtying my clean floors!” mother screeched behind you. “When I finish with your wings, you’ll clean that up!”

“Mommy?” you sniffled, trying to hold back your chest-heaving sobs. “Why do I hafta have my wings clipped?”

“So you don’t fly away like your jackass of a father. I won’t let you leave Mommy.”

“Get your finger out of my face, woman!” you shouted at her, you were just seconds away from biting it off of her ugly hand. You were trembling, and you could hardly breathe what with the marching drums hammering away at your ribcage

“Don’t you tell me what to do, you inhuman!” The little girl shied away from her mom, crying harder. You opened your mouth to retort against the crazy Karen, but stopped when you saw the girl’s reaction. You knew she probably felt bad for hurting you, and now her mother was screaming and cursing, you knew how scary that was.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a whoosh of wind and a flash of red. Something wrapped around your arms, tugging you away from the woman, and something tugged the woman away from you. You looked down, seeing red feathers curled around your biceps. You’d only seen red feathers in one other place. When your own feathers were soaked in blood from your mom’s clippings. You shook your head, pushing the dark memories from your mind as you grabbed the feather and pulled it off of you as quick as possible, it flew away from you almost immediately, heading towards a man far taller than you. His golden hair was messy but very soft-looking. His slitted eyes glanced between you and the woman behind his golden goggles. His hands rested in the pockets of his large brown jacket. But none of that compared to his intimidatingly large red wings. It would be impossible not to recognize him, he was your best friend’s favorite.

Number Two Pro-Hero in Japan; Hawks

“What’s going on here?” he asked. “I heard shouting.” he said, a lazy smile resting on his face.

“This crazy bird-bitch hit my daughter!” the Karen screamed hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” you thought she’d at least be above that, but it looked this woman didn’t give a shit about morality. “I didn’t touch her at all! She grabbed my wing then you freaked out when it hurt me!” 

“Hey, now, no need to get upset.” Hawks turned to you, and something in him changed. His wings shivered, and his eyes slitted, before blowing back out to normal size. “Birdie, tell me your side of the story.” you took a step away from the hero, something about his reaction to seeing you didn’t seem natural. It creeped you out. Also, why was he calling you ‘birdie?’

“I was standing around, waiting for my friend, then this kid saw me. She must have thought my wings were pretty because she ran up to be and grabbed one of my feathers. A blood feather, actually. It hurt and I yanked my wing back and told her not to do that. This woman seemed to have some delusion that her daughter has every right to touch and hurt me and I’m supposed to- and I now quote- ‘sit still and let her pet me.’” You explained.

“Ah I see.” Hawks nodded, turning to a young man on the street. “Sir, who’s explanation is correct?” he asked.

“Uh- the bird’s?” the guy seemed out of it, just staring at the hero.

“Thanks, sir. Ma’am, could you and your daughter apologize to this nice person?”

“No way in fucking hell!” the woman screamed. “Come on, Kaneko, we’re getting out of here. And I’m throwing away all your Hawks bobbleheads, now I know he’s a fucking biased pig.” The girl glanced up at her mom before quickly running to you, taking your hand.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t wanna hurt you, your wings just looked so pretty!” you softened a little, crouching down and patting the girl’s head, smiling at her.

“It’s alright, I forgive you. Next time you see something pretty, tell the person it’s pretty, then ask if you can touch it.” The girl lit up, nodding eagerly.

“I will!” she exclaimed before her mother dragged her away. 

“You didn’t need to apologize to that asshole. They were the one that made you cry.” she grumbled, walking down the street as she fumed. 

“Poor girl…” you muttered. “Having a Karen for a mom.” you stared after her empathetically. You didn’t notice the look in the hero’s eyes, staring you up and down, shifting from one leg to the next. “Oh um, thanks Hawks,” you said, turning back to him. “For helping me.”

You froze when you saw his face, eyes seemingly staring into your soul, expression blank. He seemed to be calculating something, scanning you for information. Your blood ran cold when you noticed his pupils, thinner than paper.

“Oh!” he was shaken out of his daze by your voice, a careless smile dawning his features as his pupils returned to normal. “No problem, Birdie.” you pursed your lips, nodding. You saw a small black car turn the corner, and you honed in on the license plate. Saved at last! Your friend was here!

“Alright, uh I’ve gotta be going now…” you chuckled nervously. 

“Wait, a sec, I’m gonna need your name for a report.” he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small voice recorder and holding it up to you. “Just speak it in here.” Oh, yeah that made sense, Heroes had to make reports of everything they resolved in a day, so it was probably best to get the names of the people they help in case the PHSC needed to contact them.

“Y/n.” you spoke as clear as you could when he pressed the button on the side of the recorder. “Y/n L/n. Hawks helped me win a petty fight with a Karen.” you chuckled a little into the recorder. Hawks nodded, putting the recorder back into his pocket. He glanced back at you for a moment, expression aloof and apathetic.

“Thanks, Y/n!” he flashed you another smile before taking off into the sky, leaving you confused. 

Why did he use your personal name and not your family name?

The door to the small black car opened, and your friend stumbled out, running forward a few paces before cursing.

“You fuckin kidding me, Y/n? You got to meet Hawks?” he stared at you in disbelief. “You couldn’t have made him stay a minute longer? You know he’s my celebrity crush!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. Your best friend since you were a young child, Izanagi Fujikawa. Bisexual, chaotic, and your mortal enemy. 

“Iza, he’s a pro hero. He’s got shit to do!” Izanagi pouted, crossing his arms.

“I know… I’m still mad at you though.” you rolled your eyes, scoffing. 

“We can deal with that.” you poked his cheek, climbing in the passenger seat before he grabbed your elbow, pulling you back towards him.

“Your wing’s all messed up- what happened?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” you shrugged him off, climbing in and buckling your seatbelt, unaware of the sharp golden eyes watching you.

Hawks was perched on a nearby building, eyes slitted as he glared down at your friend. You two were close, he could tell. Why did that make him so fucking furious? His feathers twitched as he played back the recording you’d given him. That laugh, golden and free. He looped it, your gentle voice blessing his ears and relaxing his body for him.

“Pff- hahahaha!” he closed his eyes, re-imagining your face, the soft smile gracing your angel-like features, the way your wings flapped slightly, the nearly inaudible purr vibrating in the back of your throat. He wanted you to laugh around him more, he wanted you to be around him more, he wanted you to be his. 

Even if he only got to talk to you for a minute, he felt like he already knew everything there was to know about you. You didn’t like causing trouble, seeing how polite you were at first to that crazy lady. You could stand your ground though, not afraid to stand up for yourself. You were kind, and forgiving, he got that from how you treated the kid. 

A sudden realization struck Hawks. It was frightening, terrifying even. He loved you. Breathtaking Y/n L/n, the pretty parakeet. Ah, but that guy. That guy was in the way. Not to worry, he could remove the… complication.

Soon.

You would belong just to him.

[a-day-in-the-afterlife]

The 14th Department (AFTERL!FE) Meets the Demon Brothers and Undateables (Obey Me!)

Lucifer

Noah heard he has a dog.  He is staying far away from the pretentious eldest. 

Oldest big brother?  You better believe Youssef finds a kindred spirit, even if they differ wildly in personalities.  

Louis lives for the almost regal aesthetic Lucifer has got going on.  Lucifer, in turn, lives for the day Louis will stop talking.

Quincy finds this whole trip preposterous (“What the heck is the Devildom?  What happened to the Underworld?”) and does not like Lucifer’s condescending attitude (it conflicts with his own!).  

Ethan doesn’t like Lucifer—proud and arrogant people with no reason to be so are not to be respected.  Lucifer despises Ethan for the same reason.

Day!  Will!  Not!  Go!  Near!  Lucifer!  He’s so scary!  But Cerberus is his best friend now (Nine-Nine who?).

Nine and Theo together find out that the eldest demon is into classical music and spend hours discussing early compositions with him.

Ell cannot be around this demon!  He is a fallen angel!  He tries to be nice (and because Ell is kind, so is Lucifer, even if the sickly sweetness of the angel drives him up the wall), but every good wish is punctuated with a sneeze.

Lucifer is so overworked, so by way of his calm disposition and love for meditation, Jamie helps him find ways to relax.

The eldest demon’s general demeanor astonishes June.  How manly he is!

Likewise, Sian can’t go near Lucifer without feeling nervous.  The man drips dominating energy!

Verine can’t understand the eldest’s love for classical music.  Rock is infinitely better.

Mammon

Um, Mori and him are best friends.  They together cause trouble in the House of Lamentation and in the 14th Department with their many get-rich-quick schemes.

Gaudy and expensive taste?  Sign Louis up.

Ethan says ‘no’ to the demon’s general pomposity (it reeks of low self-esteem) and by God, doesn’t he own anything that depicts an iota of class?

Mammon is one speedy demon—how can Kirr not appreciate his fleetfootedness when it would bring him so much use whilst hunting?  Apart from that, Kirr has no respect for that reprehensible thief, for the very idea of stealing brings back terrible memories.

Always belittled by their peers, Day and Mammon find a kindred spirit in each other, and Day is always reminded of his past life when he sees all the gold that Mammon professes to possess possesses. 

Kati bit him twelve times because no dumb tsundere was going to steal his (cough Aitachi’s) spot as cutest in the Department!

Licht is eclipsed by Mammon’s demon form because how is he able to pull off wearing so little clothing so well?  He must take notes.  When he learns that Mammon is a model, too, he goes berserk with delight.

Cyrille finds the secondborn exceedingly stupid, although he begrudgingly gives him credit for being pretty decent at math.

Sian spots a fellow tsundere and runs away, because oh my God, it’s so obvious that Mammon likes this MC person!

Leviathan

Games?  Social awkwardness?  Extreme interest in things that no one else seems to care for?  Cyrille has found his soulmate!

Aitachi and Kirr cringe at how Leviathan spends his leisure time, but are intrigued because they have never seen such methods of gaming and media consumption before.

Leviathan is forever at Quincy’s mercy, for the fellow demon has no qualms of absolutely crushing Levi’s already non-existent self-esteem. 

Even though he loathes to admit it, Sian really likes the rhythm games Leviathan plays, and the thousands of idol posters in his room make him strangely nostalgic of his past life.

June wonders how Levi can go so long without feeling the overwhelming need to burst into a sprint now and again.

Theo almost kills the thirdborn because how is his room filled with so many Demonrito and Hell Mountain Dew containers?  What filth!

Speaking of filth, Licht finds some of Levi’s dating sims and oh my darling, some of them are quite … lewd.

Ghilley and Leviathan together construct an elaborate Lego model of a castle from the anime My Sister Is A Fairy Princess, And Her Suitor Is Secretly An Ogre From a Land Far Away And Wants to Eat Us All, And It’s Up to Me to Save My Sister’s Kingdom.

Ethan can’t even walk past Leviathan’s room without a disapproving “tut.”  Has the demon no discipline, despite being rumored to be the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy?

Kati spends all day poking at the cute monster and waifu figurines situated in Levi’s bedroom.  He thinks Azuki-tan is cute, but not as cute as him, and anyone who says otherwise will get bitten!

Aitachi likes to rifle through Leviathan’s anime sword replica collection and giggle because in combat, they would be of no more use than a toothpick.

Satan 

Finally!  Someone with sense! thinks Ethan.  Boy, do these two get along, right down to their educated and proper mannerisms to their mutual hatred of Lucifer.

Verine can’t go near Satan without coughing violently because the forthborn always has some manner of cat hair on him, no matter how diligently he preens.

Cats are infinitely better than dogs, so Noah sticks close to Satan.

Cyrille thought he had found a friend in Satan, who always has his nose in a book, but it turns out, Satan is more philosophically-and-intellectually-versed, while Cyrille is more scientific.

Nine likes Satan, for he is as calm as himself.  Strangely enough, they both seem to have hidden wrathful feelings and bond over this.

Kitties! :D is all Day can think when he sees the fourthborn.

Youssef enjoys Satan’s company, too, for they both are anthropological in nature—always watching, but never interfering until there is a need.

Blond and princelike are the two of them, but Louis is sorely disappointed when Satan’s royal appearance is merely a façade of darker emotions to come, where Louis enjoys life in its every aspect.  “How disappointing art thou, Satan!”  Louis throws rose petals in distress.

Kirr and Aitachi try to hunt one of Satan’s cats, thinking it was some kind of Devildom’s finest prey.  Satan does not forgive them for the attempt.

Theo sneezes the moment he enters Satan’s room.  Although everything is in its place and not truly messy by any means, he refuses to let the stacks and stacks of books sit idly by when they are begging to be put in shelves!

Quincy and Satan each add to their respective repertoire of curses in their time together.  It does not bode well for anyone in the House of Lamentation or 14th Department.

Asmodeus

They are … essentially the same person, so you can bet your ass that Licht and Asmo absolutely live for each other’s company.  They literally spend hours modeling clothes together, discussing fashion, gossiping about their romantic exploits, and praising their overall appearance.  

Louis joins in too, although he mostly stays for the latter, and the three vanquish away many nights complimenting their own and the others’ looks.

Sometimes Asmo likes to sew patches and sequins onto his clothes and mend them to his own design, and Aitachi, who likes to sew, learns many different ways of stitching from the fifthborn, although he hates the fact that Asmo, like Licht, never shuts up about what an “adorable and cute warrior” he is!

Asmo has to know Kirr’s hair care routine, which Kirr gives in one, succinct sentence: “I wash it.  Sometimes.”

Nine has to constantly flee Asmodeus�� presence because it is in his nature to compliment the Soul Reaper on how absolutely beautiful he looks.

Kati expects makeovers, all of which should emphasize his cuteness, every other day.

Don’t ask how long Mori spent calculating how much money Asmo spends on beauty products, because he wept at the end of it.

Verine refuses to step a foot into Asmodeus’ room because do you know how much his sinuses are going to bother him when he spends even a second into a room so deeply entrenched in the fragrance of flowers and perfume?

Ghilley is used to a personality so akin to his roommate, Licht, so he has no qualms in dealing with Asmo and quite likes the gossip he is quietly able to distill from the fifthborn.

Beelzebub

Brothers in their flaming orange hair, June gloms onto Beel with astounding loyalty (Theo refuses to admit jealousy, but ...), especially when he hears of his dedication to his twin.

Cyrille has to interrogate Beel on the structural integrity of his wings in his demon form because there is no way that such a flimsy apparatus could lift a demon of Beel’s stature even an inch into the air!  Also, how much does Beel exercise if he expects to gain muscle and burn off the infinite calories that he consumes?  It is a scientific mystery.

Day likes snacks, Beel likes snacks!  Everything is right in the world (even if the demon accidentally mistook Day’s hair for a mint ice cream cone).

Jamie is constantly offering fresh fruits and vegetables to the sixthborn, but even though he eats them willingly, Beel much prefers foods that will actually fill him up for a short amount of time.

Again, Ethan is appalled by the lack of discipline Beelzebub shows.  The demon is simply a slave to his appetite and deserves nothing less than scorn.

Theo cannot decide if he likes or hates the fact that Beel leaves a trail of crumbs wherever he goes.  On one hand, he gets to clean, but on the other hand, it’s so messy ... 

Even though he has many misgivings of fallen angels, even Ell cannot help but like Beel!  As long as he is fed, the demon is very sweet and kind.  

Noah likes Beel, too.  Something about his easygoing and generally cheerful personality pleases him to no end. 

Beel tried to eat Kati’s hair, thinking it was a yummy bun.  Sadly, he got bit more times than Mammon.

Youssef is a good cook and is thereby followed by Beel wherever he goes.  The kind Soul Reaper doesn’t mind, though.

Belphegor

Noah likes how Belphie takes things easily and calmly, although it probably wouldn’t hurt for him to get more exercise.

Belphegor is even more of a conundrum to June than Leviathan was.  He decides that next time he goes to the Devildom, he’s going to bring an extra pair of running shoes because the demon most certainly was wanting of physical exertion! 

Kirr is absolutely astonished at the unguarded and completely lax way Belphie sprawls out in the House of Lamentation, sleeping.  If he was an enemy tribesman, he would have no trouble in taking the demon down as he slept.

“This kind of laziness is not fit for a warrior at all!” cries Aitachi any time he seems Belphie dozing off.

Jamie likes Belphegor’s way of thinking.  Sometimes, sitting under an apple tree in the sweltering summer heat after a hard day of work just causes one to be overcome with the desire to take a nap. 

Youssef tries to brew Belphie a cup of espresso, but the caffeine just doesn’t seem to have an effect on the Avatar of Sloth. 

Although he is slightly disheartened by the fact that his quiet footsteps seem to have no effect on the seventhborn, as he is always asleep, Ghilley revels in the prospect of drawing unsavory graffiti on the demon’s face when he slumbers.

Day sometimes tries to rouse Belphie, and Belphie, in turn, tries to kill Day.

Like his observations on his twin, Cyrille cannot fathom how the demon could sleep so much.  How could one body need so much rest?

Simeon

Ell loves him.  How can he not?  He is the perfect angel!  He is also very curious as to how the Celestial Realm of Obey Me!’s world works compared to the one in AFTERL!FE.

His whole aesthetic mesmerizes Louis.  There’s something so tranquil but regal about it.  

Licht wants to know where he can get an exact copy of Simeon’s outfit because darling, it's gorgeous.

Youssef probably spends more time around Simeon than he should, but his calm demeanor is so refreshing compared to the chaos in the 14th Department and the House of Lamentation. 

Kirr and Aitachi together lament with Simeon on the struggles of working with technology.  Why is it so difficult?

Something about the angel’s holy air makes Mori very much not inclined to ask him how much the gold clasp on his cape is worth.

Quincy hates the “pretentious” and “stuck up” angel and bickers with him almost as much as he bickers with Ell.  Simeon never responds to his goading, although ... he does get a bit prickly when Quincy criticizes Luke or the Celestial Realm too harshly.

Encouraged by the prospect that he can actually breathe in the (fresh-smelling) presence of Simeon, Verine enjoys his company, but is perpetually annoyed by the fact that the angel seems to pity him for his condition.

Ethan can’t hate Simeon, either.  He is the sole honorable character he can find in the entire Devildom, even though he has to admit that it seems that the angel is hiding something.

Day really likes Simeon!  He’s so nice and is always ready to play with him.

As a man of science, Cyrille scoffs at Simeon (and Luke’s) unfaltering belief in religion. 

Luke

Kati bites him on sight.  Luke just seems irritating and how dare he think himself cuter than him!

Aitachi sympathizes with Luke, for they both lament on not being taken seriously because of their age.  

Luke reminds him a bit too much of a chihuahua for Noah to be too fond of him, but the little angel means well, so Noah suffers his incessant barking out of (Kind)ness.

Day is a human puppy ... and Luke is an angel chihuahua.  They get along great, although Luke makes it his most important goal to Christianize Day, who seems to believe in other things!

Quincy wonders when Luke will stop talking and is constantly entertaining thoughts of hastening the day when he will.  Likewise, Luke wishes the “horrible demon” would go away forever.

As a fellow angel, Ell finds Luke to be great fun.  It’s strange though, Luke seems to always be expressing the opposite of what he’s feeling in typical tsundere fashion, but he never sneezes.

Sian finds Luke to be of the utmost annoyance.  He’s so short (heh) and yappy and annoying!  

Kirr wonders if the little angel will make a good hunting dog, but after he realizes that Luke has a lot of trouble keeping his mouth closed, he thinks  better of it.

His dealings with Day cause Nine to be an excellent caretaker of Luke when Simeon is away.  You just have to deal with exuberant personalities like his carefully, is all.

Ghilley and Licht give Luke “five stars” in terms of cuteness.  The young angel does not approve!

Theo stays far away from Luke.  Children are walking crumb-and-stain-factories and he is not going to get dirty.

Solomon

Quincy and Solomon exchange many spell incantations and curses and keep the rest of the Soul Reapers, angels, and demons in an uproar with their constant shenanigans. 

When he notices that Solomon has many fortune-telling artifacts in his room, Kati rifles through them all (without permission), much to the sorcerer’s amusement, especially when Kati discovers many supposedly unpleasant things about his future.

Although Quincy and Solomon are the true troublemaking duo in terms of pranks (Satan helps, sometimes), Day and Solomon are almost equal in measure, although much of Day’s rogurey is an accident, and he never means to cause any harm!

Licht is instantly enamored by Solomon’s cape—what style!  You can see the entire Milky Way embroidered on it (Cyrille instantly assures him that that is not actually the case)!

Ghilley can’t help but wonder why anyone thinks Solomon is shady.  He seems to be a pretty upstanding, if chaotic, guy?

Youssef admires the humanity of Solomon.  In a land of angels and demons and even Soul Reapers, it’s good to have someone so normal.

Unlike Ghilley, Ethan definitely notices that something shady is afoot when Solomon is around.  Because of this, he tails the sorcerer wherever he goes, for he’d rather not a ruckus be caused.

Sian has many questions for Solomon on the status of idols in the Human World since he left it.  What are the newest trends?  The most popular groups?  The most admired dance moves?  He wants to know it all.

Barbatos

Cyrille finds the whole time-travel aspect of Barbatos’ powers intriguing and derails the butler from his duties for hours in attempts to understand the nuances of this overpowering concept.

Ethan privately thinks that he looked much better in a butler suit than the demon.  What is even going on with the front of his outfit?  A diligent and uncomplaining demon is Barbatos, and Ethan has to respect him for that, even if he is a position so beneath his own.

He’s so scary! D: thinks Day, even though Barbatos is nothing but kind to him.

Kirr likes the fine fare that Barbatos cooks, although he laments not being able to win “the mind game” against the butler, who he spends many hours staring coolly at.

Theo and Barbatos spend many an evening chatting about the best way to maintain the most perfect state of cleanliness.

The strong smell of detergent follows Barbatos sometimes, and Verine can never bring himself too close to the demon.  However, he has to begrudgingly admit that if it weren’t for the overwhelming stench of chemicals, he would be breathing in a suffocating cloud of dust particles, so he has to thank the butler for that.

Jamie gives Barbatos many good recipes for fruit pies and Youssef can’t wait to try all the (possibly) delicious recipes that Barbatos recites to him.  

Ghilley, unfortunately, finds it very difficult to sneak up on the butler, for Barbatos has seen all Ghilley’s attempts to scare him in all the timelines he has observed. 

Diavolo

This bumbling idiot is the ruler of the Devildom? thinks Ethan with great distaste.  However dignified Diavolo might be, Ethan cannot see past the blindingly cheerful mask he puts on and finds it most undignified.

A fellow royal!  How is Louis supposed to resist striking a long-winded conversation?  Diavolo entertains Louis’ pompous and overbearing self and they find each other most delightful.

Licht positively drools over Diavolo’s demon form outfit.  Just how he is pulling off that much style?

Quincy finds much enjoyment in disrespecting the Prince of the Devildom to no end and is always disappointed when Diavolo responds to his insults with a tolerating smile.

The Prince of Demons and the son of the Demon Lord are titles that are essentially the bane of Ell’s existence, but he manages to be most respectful toward him, even though he is shaking in his shoes and wondering when all their interactions will come to and end.

Day lived like a king in his past life and is not even remotely fazed by the enormous amount of finery found in the Demon Lord’s Castle.  He is, however, enamored with the Little D’s, who, when not insulting him, are great fun!

Diavolo’s lifestyle of luxury is basically Mori’s dream, so he takes every opportunity to make notes of the expensive furniture and ancient pieces.

Noah and Youssef like how down-to-Earth Diavolo is, despite his high position.  They feel as if he has something to hide, but for the most part, he is a jolly fellow and they enjoy his company.

[annewritesfic]

Happy Endings Don’t Exist

i sat down and worked on this for the last FIVE HOURS y’all better appreciate it

based on chapters 4, 6, 9, and 10 of scarlet by marissa meyer

tw: mentions of gun, knives, blood, attempted murder... i think that’s it but lemme know if i missed anything

word count: 7266

The incarceration of Captain Farrah Thorne had gotten off to a rocky start.

(Farrah was fully aware, of course, that technically she’d been only a cadet when she’d gone on the run, but captain just sounded better.)

After the soap rebellion, Farrah had been put in solitary confinement, but she’d managed to sweet talk one of the guards into giving her their port screen. It was honestly probably because the guard thought Farrah was an idiot and wouldn’t be able to do anything with it, but no matter the reason, Farrah was now sitting cross-legged on her bed, fidgeting with the port screen.

Of course, the guard was right about Farrah not being able to do anything with the port screen.

She’d had it for several hours now and still hadn’t accessed her comms, any news feeds, or anything else useful. Looking up “how to break out of a high-security prison using only a port screen” probably wouldn’t get her anywhere, so now she was just absentmindedly entering the names of people she used to know, wondering where they were now.

The cell was painfully, obviously quiet, but slowly, Farrah noticed the sound of what almost seemed like a drill, coming from the ceiling. She looked up and briefly scanned the room, but there wasn’t much to see - the same plain, shiny white walls. If the prison was remodeling, Farrah hoped her cell was next.

The drill noise suddenly came louder, clearly directly above Farrah’s cell, and she watched curiously as one of the ceiling tiles was removed and someone jumped down, landing in a crouch and facing the wall opposite Farrah. The someone had messy brown hair tied in a ponytail, a crumpled white prison uniform, and one bare foot… and one metal foot. In fact, Farrah realized that the person’s left hand was plated with metal, too, and one finger had a screwdriver sticking out of the tip.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly. The cyborg jumped and slipped, turning to look at Farrah. “It seems you’ve stumbled into the wrong jail cell. Do you need directions to get back to yours?”

The cyborg narrowed her eyes at Farrah. “What…?”

Farrah smiled charmingly.

“These cells aren’t supposed to be occupied,” the cyborg said. Her voice was a little bit hoarse, like they hadn’t spoken in awhile.

“Special circumstances.”

“You’re not a murderer, are you?”

“Stars, no.” Farrah popped her collar proudly. “I started a riot in the yard. We were protesting the soap.”

The cyborg stared at her.

“The soap,” Farrah said again. “It’s way too drying. I have sensitive skin.”

“Huh,” the cyborg said, turning away. They stood up and kicked the fallen floor tile to the side, looking around, then knocked the side of her head with the heel of their human hand. “Stupid, stupid… one room off.”

Farrah watched them press a hand against the wall and blink a few times, like there was something stuck in their eye. “You’re escaping, aren’t you?”

“Not at this very moment, but that is the general idea, yes.” The cyborg sighed frustratedly, then spotted the port screen in Farrah’s hand. “Hey, what model is that?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Farrah said honestly.

The cyborg crossed the room and snatched it out of her hand. “I need your vid cable.”

“My what?”

“Your vid cable. Mine’s on the fritz.” The cyborg sat cross-legged in the center of the room, port screen in her lap. Farrah realized that the screwdriver in their metal hand was a drill, and she watched curiously as the cyborg used it to remove the back panel and pulled out a yellow wire. She kicked the port screen aside and reached up to the back of their neck, unlatching a panel there. After a moment of fidgeting, the cyborg pulled out a blackened wire and then replaced it with the yellow one from Farrah’s port screen. She tossed the blackened wire aside and sighed, a brief smile crossing their lips. “Ugh, that’s so much better.”

Farrah picked up the port screen, mind whirling. “You have a port screen in your head?”

“Something like that.” The cyborg began running a hand across the wall. Farrah watched her pry one of the panels off the wall, and tried to make small talk, but the cyborg ignored her.

“When they locked you up, didn’t they think that maybe there were some… security weaknesses with you?” Farrah asked.

The cyborg sighed, sitting back on their heels and blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “There weren’t. The hand is new.” They stared at the open wall for a moment, thinking.

“You wouldn’t happen to be convicted of breaking and entering?” Farrah said, only half joking.

The cyborg rolled her eyes. “If you really have to know, two counts of treason, resisting arrest, and unlawful use of biolectricity. Oh, and illegal immigration, but I kind of think that’s a little excessive.”

Farrah squinted at her. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“How the hell-”

“It’s really complicated and I don’t wanna talk about it,” the cyborg snapped.

“O-kay.” Farrah sat back. “By the way, what’s your name?”

No response. The cyborg kept doing… whatever they were doing behind the panel.

“I’m Captain Farrah Thorne,” she said. “Most people call me Thorne, though. Or Captain. Or Captain Thorne-”

“Kate,” the cyborg said. “Just Kate.”

“Wonderful to make your acquaintance!” Farrah smiled brightly. “Are you in need of an accomplice? Because I happen to be a criminal mastermind-”

“Go away.”

“Um.” Farrah looked around the small, one-room cell. “Where?”

Kate closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then kept working.

“What’s your plan for when you get out?” Farrah asked.

“The most direct route out of the city is north,” Kate muttered. White flecks of plastic from the wall dusted their dark hair, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, my poor, sweet, naive little convict,” Farrah tutted. “That’s exactly what they’ll be expecting from you!”

“Please stop distracting me.”

“We might be able to help each other!”

“Leave me alone.”

“I have a ship.”

Kate actually looked at her.

“A spaceship,” Farrah said in a sing-song voice.

“A spaceship,” Kate repeated doubtfully.

“Yep!”

The cyborg paused, as if reading something on the wall behind Farrah. “It wouldn’t happen to be a stolen ship from the American Republic?”

“Yeah, how did you…” Farrah trailed off, then grinned and tapped the side of her head. “Port screen in the head?”

“The Republic hasn’t found the ship yet?”

“Nope. At least, I hope not. Stripped the tracking equipment, and it’s hiding in a warehouse over by the plague quarantines.” Farrah raised an eyebrow. “So? Need that accomplice?”

Kate said nothing and turned back to the wall.

“You look exhausted,” Farrah commented. “Need a back rub?”

Kate jolted upwards with a growl and whipped around to face Farrah. “Please, just-- just stop talking. Leave me alone.”

Farrah gasped a little and fell back against the wall, mind whirling. Kate’s image wavered just a bit, like heat in a desert, and Farrah’s heartbeat sped up, her head filling with thoughts of worship and devotion and surrender.

She was beautiful. Divine. Perfect.

“All right,” Farrah said slowly. “Anything you’d like.” She turned to face away from Kate, eyes watering, and the silence settled over both of them. Farrah and the cyborg, prison mate, goddess.

~

FARRAH THORNE

ID #0082688359

BORN 4 JUNE 106 T.E., AMERICAN REPUBLIC

FF 437 MEDIA HITS, REVERSE CHRON

POSTED 12 JAN 126 T.E.: EX-AIR FORCE CADET, FARRAH THORNE, HAS BEEN CONVICTED AND SENTENCED TO A SIX-YEAR PRISON SENTENCE AT THE END OF A SPEEDY TWO-WEEK TRIAL…

The green text scrolled across Kate’s vision without prompting, showing them a detailed record of the crimes of the annoying convict sitting just ten feet away. Despite only having turned twenty a few months ago, Farrah Thorne was guilty of one count of military desertion, two counts of international theft, one count of attempted theft, six counts of handling stolen goods, and one count of theft of government property.

“Government property” didn’t seem to do justice to the fact that Farrah Thorne had stolen a spaceship from the American Republic military. The spaceship she was so proud of.

She was currently about six months into her six year sentence in the Eastern Commonwealth (for attempted theft of a second-era jade necklace), but she was also wanted in Australia and, of course, America, and after this sentence was completed, would be standing trial and serving time in those countries as well.

Kate didn’t pause their work to think, even though her mind was racing. Escaping from prison was one thing, but could she really aid the escape of this actual, real criminal, in a stolen spaceship?

It’s a whole lot harder to find a criminal in space than on Earth, their mind tempted. Kate scowled and shoved away the thought.

Behind them, Farrah Thorne sat on the little white cot, chin resting in both hands, staring at the wall. Kate only risked half a glance back every few minutes - just looking at her made them feel guilty.

Leave me alone.

The words had tasted like fire, like ashes and burning and smoke. That heat had spread through Kate’s veins again - not as painful as it had been at the ball, but still not comfortable, either. She was pretty sure that using her gift - a genetic trait Lunars were born with that allowed them to sense and manipulate the biolectricity of other living creatures - wasn’t supposed to burn like that, but it was probably just a side effect of using it again for the first time in years. Probably for the first time ever, really. Kate didn’t know much about the Lunar gift, but it seemed unlikely that a three year old would be able to control it, and she’d only lived on Luna until they were that old.

Thirteen years ago, though, Queen Levana had tried to murder Princess Selene.

She’d tried to murder Kate.

By some miracle, Kate had survived and was smuggled down to Earth, and now thirteen years later, the lost Lunar princess was kneeling in a jail cell, white flakes of plastic decorating her white prison jumpsuit, the drill implanted in their metal hand helping her break out of New Beijing prison.

Literally, what the fuck?

Dr Erland had figured it out weeks ago, but had only decided to tell them less than twenty four hours ago, after Levana had recognized them at the annual peace ball and threatened war if Kate wasn’t immediately thrown in jail for being an illegal Lunar emigrant. Dr Erland had decided that was the perfect time to pay Kate a visit, give her a new foot (seeing as theirs had fallen off on the palace steps), a fancy new cyborg hand with the latest attachments, the biggest shock of her entire life, and instructions to meet him in Africa. Right. Easy-peasy. Break out of a high-security prison and meet a crazy doctor in Africa.

Kate risked another glance back at Farrah, still sitting on the cot with that dazed smile. A spaceship would make it easier to get to Africa…

Still, just looking at Farrah brought back that flash of guilt, and Kate had to turn away.

She hadn’t meant to use their gift on Farrah. They were still learning how to use it. It took three tries to convince a guard to move her to a more convenient cell, and shutting Farrah up had been completely on accident - she’d just wanted Farrah to stop talking for ten seconds, and the heat of their gift had surged from the base of her neck and spread to her fingertips and leaked into her voice, prompting Farrah to do…

To do exactly what Kate wanted her to do.

It hadn’t felt good. It made Kate feel awful and guilty and like the worst person on Earth - stars, how could Lunars stand having this gift, let alone love it the way they did?

I don’t want to have this gift. I don’t want to be Lunar.

I just… wanna be the old me again.

Kate pushed away their spiraling thoughts and stood up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Farrah looked up at them with wide eyes, sitting up eagerly.

“I’m sorry I manipulated you,” Kate said, the words coming out a little bit jumbled. They tried again, slower this time. “It was an abuse of power and it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

Farrah frowned. “Are you the same person who was just here?”

“Yeah…?”

“Oh.” Farrah looked her up and down. “You seemed a whole lot prettier before.”

A little bit of Kate’s guilt faded away. “Listen, Cadet-”

“Captain,” Farrah corrected.

“Cadet,” Kate repeated forcefully. “You can come with me if we make it to your ship, and if you try not to talk so much.”

Farrah eagerly stood up, almost losing her balance for a moment. “Sick!”

Kate glanced back at the hole they’d created, having found the entrance to the air ducts. “So this ship of yours is the one you stole from the American Republic, right?”

“I prefer borrowed. They didn’t exactly have proof I wasn’t gonna give it back.”

Kate immediately began to regret this.

“And you’re sure the ship isn’t traceable?” they asked.

“Of course I’m sure.” Farrah tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I told you, I removed all the tracking equipment immediately.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Kate held up her left hand and ejected the stiletto knife in the thumb. “We need to remove your ID chip. Hope you’re not squeamish.”

Farrah’s eyes widened, but she closed her eyes and held her wrist out. “Please try not to hit anything important, okay?”

Kate quickly removed the ID chip and tossed it aside, then cut a strip of cloth from Farrah’s sleeve for her to wrap around the wound. There was already a scar there, probably from where she’d cut out her ID chip the last time she’d been on the run.

Farrah pressed the cloth against the cut on her wrist and grinned at Kate. “Is it just me, or is this a big moment in our relationship?”

Kate glared at her. “Do not make me regret this.”

~

The air duct was cramped and hot and uncomfortable. Kate’s metal leg scraped against the bottom of it every time they crawled forward. Farrah, to her credit, stayed quiet, but Kate was so agitated that even just her breathing was annoying. Any sound ran the risk of getting them caught. Honestly, it was a surprise they hadn’t already been caught.

Kate checked the clock in her head. She’d left their cell thirty two minutes ago.

The prison blueprint glowed brightly on the retina display over the dark air duct, a tiny blue dot representing Kate and displaying where exactly they were - and with Farrah in tow.

Stars, Kate had to sneak both of them out safely. This was going to be hard enough on their own, how was she supposed to get both of them out?

You could glamour her.

Kate bit their lip. That was true… she could convince Farrah that she wanted to tell them exactly where her ship was, then make her decide that she didn’t want to come after all. Farrah wouldn’t have a choice but to listen.

“You good?” Farrah asked softly.

Kate shook her head just a tiny bit. No, they wouldn’t glamour her. Not again. She’d made it sixteen years just fine without a Lunar gift, and they’d be fine without it now.

“I’m fine, just… checking the blueprint,” she whispered back to Farrah. “Almost there.”

“Bluepri- ohhh, port screen-”

“In my head, yes.” Kate rounded the corner and saw a grate just a few feet ahead, casting a checkered square of light into the duct. “Okay, that’s it.”

Slowly, carefully, Kate crawled over the grate and then awkwardly turned around so both of them could look down. Below was a loading dock, where food and other supplies were brought in for the prisoners, and almost directly below the grate, a storm drain, exactly where Kate’s blueprint promised it would be. The drop was a full story, and there was concrete below, but besides that, this was almost going to be easy.

“The exit ramp should be that way,” Farrah whispered, pointing.

Kate shook their head. “No, we’ve got to get into that storm drain.”

“We’re going through the sewer?”

“What, did you think we’d just walk to your ship in broad daylight wearing bright white prison uniforms?” Kate rolled their eyes. “The sewer is our only way out.”

Farrah started to reply, but the sound of voices below made both of them duck away from the grate, out of sight.

“I didn’t see her dancing with the cyborg, my sister did. Her dress was soaking wet and wrinkled like a garbage bag.”

“But why would the empress dance with a cyborg? And then for them to go off and attack the Lunar queen like that… no way. Your sister was seeing things. I bet she was just some crazy who wandered in off the street, bitter over some cyborg injustice or whatever.”

The conversation cut off at the sound of a delivery ship. Kate bit their tongue at the voices shit-talking them and dared to peek over the grate again. The delivery ship passed by below, backing towards the loading bay and coming to a stop directly below where Kate and Farrah crouched in the duct. Kate took advantage of the noise and unscrewed the grate’s screws, then Farrah carefully lifted it up and to the side. Kate ignored the way their heart was thundering and carefully moved lower, looking down to get a better view, and saw, just a foot away, a rotating camera.

Kate jerked back up and crouched lower automatically, her retina display recommending deep breaths to calm down. The camera wasn’t facing their direction, thank God, but between the camera and the delivery workers unloading below, there was no way they’d make it to the storm drain undetected. And every second brought the risk of a guard discovering their empty cells - twice as many empty cells as Kate had planned to leave behind.

They made a decision and, without leaving time to question it, slowly and carefully reached their cyborg hand out, palm flat against the ceiling, and felt around for a moment before finding the camera’s lens. The plastic crushed easily in her bionic fist, the crunching noise terrifyingly loud.

“What the hell was that?” Farrah hissed.

“Camera.” Kate listened for a moment, but none of the workers below seemed to have noticed. “Time to go. We probably only have a few seconds before they realize they’re missing a camera.” Kate took a deep breath, pulled herself over the edge, and dropped down onto the roof of the delivery ship. Farrah followed.

Kate’s metal leg clanged loudly against the roof of the ship, and the whole thing shook on both impacts, immediately drawing the attention of all three workers. For a moment, the five of them just stared at each other, but then one of the workers reached for the port screen on his belt.

Kate focused for a moment, and the man’s hand never reached his port screen, hovering in the air just above it instead.

“Don’t,” they hissed, pushing away the guilt. The fire began to spread through her body again, but they ignored it, mind whirling.

Turn around.

They did.

Close your eyes.

They did.

Cover your ears.

They did.

Hum.

They did.

Farrah gaped at Kate. “What are they doing?”

“Obeying,” Kate muttered over the buzz of the humming. Hopefully that would keep them from hearing the storm drain open and realizing where the two escaping convicts had gone, and that was the only thought that kept Kate from releasing them, even as the guilt and the hatred of this stupid goddamn gift began to spread alongside the fire.

The fall into the storm drain was about as far as the fall onto the ship, but this time, Kate almost gagged at the sensation of the oily water against their bare foot. She envied Farrah’s shoes as she landed beside them, replacing the grate, and then they both turned to the round concrete tunnel beside them. It was only waist height and stunk like garbage and mildew, but Kate set their jaw and crawled into it.

~

“Ew, oh my God, that’s disgusting! Get it off me!”

Kate nearly slipped in their haste to turn around and look back at Farrah, who was jumping and squirming in the cramped tunnel, shrieking. Kate’s embedded flashlight flicked upward to the ceiling, and the cluster of cockroaches made her shudder, but they turned away and kept going.

“A cockroach won’t kill you,” they called.

“It’s in my fucking uniform-”

“Be quiet, there’s a manhole up ahead.”

“And we’re exiting through that manhole, right?”

Kate scoffed.

The idea of a cockroach in their shirt did make her shiver a bit, but Farrah’s squeamishness wasn’t as important as the map of the sewer system overlaid on top of their vision, guiding her to the warehouse where Farrah swore her ship was.

Plus, Kate was walking through ankle-deep sludge with one bare foot. That was easily worse than a thousand cockroaches.

“Wait, what's that noise?” Farrah asked.

“The combined main line,” Kate answered just as the worst stench Kate had ever had the displeasure of experiencing reached them.

“Aces and spades,” Farrah said, choking. “That had better not be what I think it is.”

“We’re not just gonna be walking through surface water runoff soon,” Kate said simply.

“You’re joking. For the love of fuck, tell me you’re joking.”

Despite the stench, Kate smirked.

That smirk didn’t last long as the stink got worse. They both took shallow breaths, but Farrah had her shirt over her nose by the time they reached the sewer connection. Kate’s flashlight washed across the edge of a concrete wall, then against the metal grate on the far edge. It was stable enough for maintenance workers, although unfortunately covered in rat droppings - although the rat droppings were easily preferable to the churning, brown, two-meter river of sludge between them and the grate. Kate hadn’t eaten since before leaving the apartment building before the ball, which was the only reason she didn’t vomit from the stench.

“Alright, ready?” She inched closer to the edge. “The faster we do this, the faster it’s over with.”

“Wait- no, no, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you think?”

Farrah almost backed up against the wall, but thought better of it when she felt the slime there. “I’m not walking through that. Don’t you have some sort of gadget in that fancy hand of yours that could get us across?”

Kate rolled their eyes and glared. “Oh, wow, thanks for reminding me about my grappling hook.”

The water, thankfully, only went up to their thighs, but Kate still barely managed not to gag as they crossed, the current surprisingly strong against her legs. Something squished under her foot, and Kate almost screamed. Thankful for the weight of her metal leg keeping them from losing her balance, Kate made it to the other side and crawled up onto the grate, still taking shallow breaths even as they began to get light headed.

“Okay,” they shouted across to Farrah. “You either cross, or you can go back and serve the rest of your sentence, but you have to decide right now.”

Farrah gulped, staring at Kate’s legs. They risked a glance down and pushed away the wave of nausea at the way the stark white pants now clung, greenish-brown and sopping wet, to their legs.

“Are you coming?” Kate shouted.

Farrah scrunched her face up and muttered a series of creative curses, then lowered herself into the sewage and trudged across, still muttering curses the entire time. She finally made it to the grate and heaved herself up beside Kate, glaring daggers. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“That’s what you get for complaining about the soap,” Kate said lightly. “Which way?”

Farrah pressed her lips together, thinking. “It was near the old Beihai Park, whichever way that was.”

“You mean we didn’t have to cross that river?”

Farrah’s eyes widened. “What?”

Kate smirked again. “Only messing with you. C’mon, this way.”

“How long have we been walking?” Farrah asked as they started down the tunnel. “Feels like hours.”

Kate checked her internal clock. “Twelve minutes.”

“Bullshit.”

Kate saved their breath and didn’t answer. To Farrah’s credit, it did sort of feel like they’d been walking for a few lifetimes, hearing the sounds of rats skittering past and water dripping from the ceiling. Kate’s flashlight glistened on the slimy walls, and they passed another manhole before finally making it to the one by Beihai Park.

“We’re about a block away from the park,” Kate said, putting a hand and a foot on the ladder. “Does West Yunxin sound familiar?”

Farrah squinted. “I think?”

Kate rolled their eyes and started to climb. She pushed the manhole cover up and to the side, almost gasping at the sudden gust of fresh air, before a hover glided overhead. Kate ducked down below the manhole, heart pounding at the lights atop the vehicle, but then it turned a corner and the red cross painted on the side revealed itself as a medical hover, not a police one, easing Kate’s fearful vision of androids with cold, emotionless voices and brain-interface-overriding tasers. The old warehouse district was near the plague quarantines, so it made sense that there were medical hovers.

Kate glanced to make sure the road was deserted before pulling themself up and into the sun, uniform glaringly bright against the pavement. Farrah followed and replaced the manhole cover, and Kate crossed her arms, pushing down the worry about being caught. “Okay, which way?”

Farrah squinted. Turned in a circle. Twisted her lips to the side thoughtfully.

Kate resisted the urge to scream.

“You have to recognize something, right?” they asked desperately.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just been awhile,” Farrah said quickly. She turned to face down the street. “This way!” She walked five steps, then stopped and looked around again. “Or, um… maybe this way?”

“Do you have an address?” Kate demanded.

“A captain always knows where her ship is! It’s like a psychic bond,” Farrah protested.

Kate glared. “If only we had a captain, cadet.”

Farrah rolled her eyes and marched down the street with spectacular confidence, and Kate followed, jumping at every sound and hugging themself nervously. They walked for three blocks without seeing anyone, and Kate started trying to think of a backup plan as Farrah slowed and began scanning the nearby buildings.

“There!” Farrah said, pointing. “That one, I’m sure of it!” She walked up to the warehouse, which looked the same as every other warehouse within a mile, and tried the door. “Goddamnit, it’s locked.”

“D’you have a key?”

Farrah glared at Kate. “Yep, let me just pull it out of my prison issued pocket.”

She’s got your escape ship, Kate reminded themself, teeth grit. You can’t hit her.

They kneeled down besides the ID scanner, examining it. “D’you think it’s alarmed?”

“It had better be! I’ve been paying rent this whole time, and it wasn’t for my darling to be sitting in an unprotected warehouse.”

Kate was beginning to wonder if one punch would really be so bad when the door swung open.

“Thorne!” the strange man said loudly. “I just saw the news, thought you’d be showing up here soon!”

Farrah’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Alak, what’s up? I’m on the news? How do I look?”

Alak’s attention flitted over to Kate, and the smile slipped from his face. Kate kept her expression neutral (mostly, but a glare was part of their resting expression anyways) and took a second to check the newsfeeds. Sure enough: ESCAPED CONVICT. CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS. IF SEEN, COMM THIS LINK IMMEDIATELY.

“Saw you on the news, too,” Alak said flatly.

Farrah coughed a little. “Hey, I need to pick up my ship. We’re kind of in a hurry.”

Alak shook his head. “Sorry, Thorne. The feds already watch me close enough. I can always claim ignorance to storing a stolen ship, but assisting a felon, and assisting… one of them-” Kate wondered if he was referring to their Lunar heritage or cyborg limbs- “If they track you here, I’m toast. I won’t tell anyone I saw you, but I can’t let you take your ship ‘till this all blows over. You understand, yeah?”

Farrah made an extremely offended face. “But she’s my ship! I pay you a lot of goddamn money, Alak, you can’t keep her from me!”

“Every man for himself, you know how it is.” Alak looked back at Kate with an expression of revulsion. “If you leave now, I won’t comm the police. And if they show up here, I’ll tell them I haven’t seen you since last year when you dropped off the ship. But if you stay a minute longer, I swear to fuck, I will comm them myself.”

Kate glanced down the street, and their heart leaped into her throat at the sight of an emergency hover without the red cross on the side. “Look, we need that ship. We don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Alak sneered and stepped back into the doorway. “I’m trying to help you out, ‘cause Thorne’s been a good customer for awhile, and I don’t rat out my customers, but it isn’t a favor to you. I wouldn’t blink twice about sending you off to rot. It’s the best you freaks deserve. Now fuck off, before I change my mind.”

Kate clenched her fists, barely containing a cry of pain as the burning returned, white hot as it spread from the base of her neck. They managed to stop the burst of electricity, white spots blinking in their vision, just in time to see Alak’s eyes roll back as he passed out.

Farrah caught him, groaning. “Aces, he weighs a ton!”

Kate fell back against the wall, suddenly dizzy. “He’s not- fuck, he’s not dead, is he?”

“No, I think he’s fine.” Farrah groaned again under the weight. “Ugh, help me, will you?”

Kate reached for Alak’s feet, and they tugged him into the building. The office to the left had two net screens with security footage on one side and a newsfeed on the other.

“He’s a selfish ass, but he’s got good taste in jewelry,” Farrah murmured, holding up his limp wrist with a golden watch.

Kate slapped her hand. “Can you focus?” They both turned and scanned the warehouse, packed with all sorts of ships - cargo ships, podships, personal flyers, raceships, ferries, cruisers-

“Hey, look, there was another jailbreak.”

Kate looked back at the netscreen, reading the words that scrolled across the bottom. LUNAR ESCAPES FROM NEW BEIJING PRISON. CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. Wonderful.

“This is awesome!” Farrah said with a laugh. “If they’re tracking down a Lunar, they won’t think twice about us!”

Kate pressed her lips together and looked back at the array of ships.

“Wait… you’re Lunar?!”

“Yes, dumbass, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.” Kate put their hands on their hips and raised an eyebrow, hiding the way she wanted to curl up under the desk and hide until the world forgot Kate Dalton had ever existed. “Which ship is yours?”

“Woah, woah, woah. Assisting a crazy Lunar is a bit out of my league-”

Kate laughed sharply, humorlessly, throwing their hands in the air. “If it wasn’t be me, you’d still be rotting in that fucking jail cell, so you owe me. And you’re already on the news as my accomplice, so it’s a bit too late to go back. You look stupid in that picture, by the way.”

Farrah looked at the screen that showed her own prison picture besides Kate. “I think I look pretty good.”

Kate took a deep, shaky breath. “Farrah, please.”

Farrah thought for a moment, then sighed heavily. “Fine, let’s go.”

Kate managed a sigh of relief and followed Farrah into the mess of ships. “I hope it isn’t one in the middle.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Farrah pointed up. “The roof opens.”

“Huh.” Kate looked where Farrah was pointing, at the seam across the ceiling. “Convenient.”

“Here she is!”

Kate’s retina display automatically began downloading the ship’s information as Farrah proudly pointed to it. It was larger than they’d anticipated - way larger. A 214 Rampion, Class 11.3 cargo ship. Two satellite podships, six crew quarters, a galley and a washroom… definitely enough room to avoid each other.

“You know, there was a time when she housed a crew of twelve men,” Farrah said, patting the side of the ship.

Kate walked around to the main entry hatch, noticing that the seal of the American Republic had been hastily painted over with the silhouette of a lounging woman. “What the hell?”

“Painted it myself,” Farrah said.

Kate sighed.

“Over here!” an unfamiliar voice shouted from across the warehouse. Kate glanced back and saw a man in the uniform of the Eastern Commonwealth’s military crouched over Alak’s unconscious body.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” they muttered and shoved Farrah’s shoulder. “C’mon, time to get out of here, let’s go.”

Farrah turned to the hatch and cleared her throat. “Alright, Rampion. Code word: Captain is queen. Open hatch.”

Nothing happened. The hatch stayed stubbornly closed. Kate started to panic.

“Captain is queen,” Farrah said again. “Captain is queen! Rampion, it’s me! Captain Thorne! What the hell-”

“Shh,” Kate said quickly, pressing up against the hull of the ship. Just on the other side, soldiers with searchlights had begun making their way through the warehouse, combing it for them.

“Maybe the power cell is dead,” Kate thought aloud.

“But it’s just been sitting here-” Farrah cursed. “I left the headlights on, didn’t I?”

Kate ignored their rising panic. “Maybe it’s the auto-control system? I’ve never worked on anything bigger than a podship, but I doubt it’s that different.” They put a hand on Farrah’s shoulder. “Stay here and keep trying to get in, okay?”

“Where are you-”

Kate snuck around the side of the ship, moving as quickly as possible, the blueprint she’d downloaded a few minutes earlier glowing over their vision. She found the access hatch easily and got it open even easier, and crawled into the undercarriage of the ship, barely avoiding the wires that criss-crossed in her way. The second interior door was more of a challenge, but with their flashlight and screwdriver, Kate was in the engine room within a minute.

The engine was bigger than she was, looming against the opposite wall. Kate brushed past it and found the computer motherboard, pulling the universal connector cable from their hand as they went, and snapped it into place. The flashlight dimmed, and Kate turned it off as her power was diverted, reading the pale green text that took over her retina display.

DIAGNOSING COMPUTER SYSTEM. MODEL 135v8.2

5% … 12% … 16% …

~

Farrah pressed herself behind the landing gear, heart pounding in her ears. “Captain is queen, captain is queen,” she hissed, even though she was pretty sure it was useless.

A subtle hum started up over her head, and she looked up at the running lights flickering on near the ship’s nose with a spark of hope. Gears started to rumble, and Farrah rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being squashed beneath the ramp.

“There!” shouted one of the soldiers.

Farrah swung herself up onto the ramp. “Rampion, close hatch!”

Nothing happened.

A bullet pinged off the overhead light. Farrah swore and ducked behind a plastic crate. “Rampion, I said close hatch!”

“I’m working on it!” said a voice overhead.

Farrah froze and nervously glanced up. “Rampion…?”

No response.

Just before the soldiers could follow Farrah onto the ship, the ramp creaked and began to rise, blocking more and more bullets as it went. Once it was safe, she rushed to the cockpit, keeping her balance with a hand against the wall as she slid into the pilot seat. The windows were filthy, but she didn’t have time to worry about that right now.

“Rampion, ready for liftoff!” she ordered.

The dash lit up - only the most important controls and screens.

That same cold feminine voice rang over the speakers. “Farrah, I can’t set the automatic lift, so you’ll have to take off manually.”

“Why is my ship talking back to me?!” Farrah yelled, panicked.

“It’s me, dumbass!”

Farrah furrowed her eyebrows. “Kate?”

“The auto-control system has a bug, and the power cell is weird, too. I think it’ll make it, but you have to take off without computer assistance.”

Farrah gulped. “Without- are you sure?”

“You know how to fly, right?”

“Y-yeah, of course!” Farrah scanned the controls.

“We’re fucked.”

Farrah reached for the controller on the ceiling and blinked as the warehouse doors opened, smacking her in the face with a bright beam of sunlight. She jabbed at the ignition and engaged hover mode, smoothly easing the ship off the ground with the help of the magnets beneath the city. Farrah’s breathing began to steady.

Then the ship began to tilt to the left.

“Woah- hey, stop that!” Farrah shouted, leveling the ship.

“The power cell is going to die. You’ve got to engage the backup thrusters.”

“The wha- wait, no, I found them.”

The sudden jolt of power made the ship lurch to the right, and Farrah winced as she slammed into the ship beside her. A wave of bullets slammed into the starboard side. Farrah shivered.

“What’s going on? What the hell are you doing?”

“Stop distracting me!” she shouted through gritted teeth. She tried to right the ship, but overcompensated and they tilted too far to the right.

“We’re gonna fucking die.”

“This isn’t as easy as it looks! Normally I have an automated stabilizer to take care of this for me!”

Oddly enough, she received no sarcastic reply.

Another panel lit up to her right. MAGNETIC CONDUCTORS STABILIZING. POWER OUTPUT: 37/63 … 38/62 … 42/58 …

The ship settled and once again began to hover evenly.

Farrah grinned. “Exactly like that!”

The engine roared as the ship soared upwards, a last wave of bullets sending them away as they broke free from the warehouse.

“C’mon, darling,” Farrah said softly, as the ship easily broke through the magnetic field of the city and speared through the clouds of the morning sky. The skyscrapers of New Beijing were only visible for a moment before they dropped away, and then it was just Farrah and the ship and the open starry sky ahead of them.

Farrah’s knuckles were white around the controls until the ship made it to neutral orbit, then she slumped back into the chair, shaking. She forgot to speak for several minutes, her heart too loud to hear anything else, before she said “hey, if you want a permanent position on the crew, you’re hired.”

No response.

“And I don’t mean, like, the lowest rank,” she continued. “First mate? I mean, everything’s available. Mechanic… cook… a pilot would be nice.” She waited. “Kate?”

Nothing.

Farrah sighed and pulled herself to her feet, leaning against the wall as she walked along the hallway that was as familiar to her as her cell in the prison had eventually become, down to the engine room. The screen by the door didn’t say anything about space vacuums, or about a living cyborg inside.

Farrah unlocked the door and shoved it open. The engine room was loud, hot, and stank of melted rubber. It was too dark to see, but Farrah squinted anyway, a bit terrified of what she’d see.

“Cyborg? Are you in there?”

Nothing.

Farrah squeezed her eyes shut. “Lights, on.”

A red emergency light was the only one that turned on, casting a sinister light over the revolving engine and masses of cords. 

Farrah spotted something white.

“Kate?” she called again, getting closer. Kate didn’t move. As Farrah got closer, she saw them on their back, dark hair fanned over the steel floor, eyes closed and bionic hand plugged into a computer panel.

“Hey,” Farrah said nervously. She put a hand on Kate’s shoulder and gently shook, but got no response. Farrah pressed an ear against her chest, but the engine was too loud to hear a heartbeat.

Farrah reached and unplugged Kate’s hand from the computer panel, and a robotic voice came overhead, the same one Kate had used to talk to Farrah during takeoff. “Auto-control system disconnected,” it said. “Engaging default system procedures.”

“Cool, you do that,” Farrah said, dragging Kate into the hallway. God, whatever the hell those cyborg limbs were made out of, it was way heavier than a normal human limb.

Farrah propped Kate up against the wall and frowned. At least in this brightness, it was obvious that they were breathing. “Do you have, like, a power button or whatever?”

Her gaze fell to the hand, a cord still dangling from her pinky.

“Aha!” Farrah leaped to her feet and opened the podship dock, then tugged Kate in between the two small podships. She grabbed for the podship’s charging cord from the wall, then paused, looking back and forth between the charging cord and Kate’s cord. Dammit, two males. They’d never connect.

Farrah glanced down and saw the small latch on the back of Kate’s head.

“Aces and spades,” she groaned. “Tell me it’s not…”

But all signs pointed to yes.

Farrah kneeled next to Kate and looked away as she opened the panel, then snuck a glance and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized Kate’s control panel hid any brain tissue from view. The compartment was shallow enough that the ship’s lights were enough to see by, and she quickly spotted a small outlet, the same size as the plugs.

“Gotcha,” she whispered, hoping she wasn’t about to majorly fuck up as she plugged it in and leaned Kate back against the wall.

For a moment, nothing happened, but about a minute later, something hummed inside their skull. It got louder and louder, but then stopped, and Farrah gulped, tucking her knees up to her chest.

Kate’s eyes flew open, and she gasped, looking up at Farrah.

“Kate…?” Farrah said nervously. “Are you dead?”

Kate took a moment to speak, and when they did, the words were slurred. “Auto-control defaults… almost drained my power system…”

“Uh, I think it did.”

Kate stared at her for a moment with a confused expression, but then reached up for the cord still plugged into the back of their head and yanked it out, slamming the panel shut. “You opened my control panel?” they demanded harshly.

“I didn’t want to! And I saved your life!” Farrah pointed out.

Kate paused and thought for a moment.

“Well… I guess that was quick thinking,” Kate finally assented.

Farrah grinned. “Are we having another moment?”

Kate slumped back on the floor. “I guess. If you consider another moment to be me not wanting to strangle you for the first time since we met - although maybe I’m just too exhausted.”

“I’ll take it!” Farrah stretched out on the floor beside Kate, enjoying the coolness of the steel, the humming engine next door, the smell of sewage still wafting from their clothes, and the sensation of freedom.

[austarus]

HR Wells x Reader Scars Across Time

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @acewest360

Word Count: 6245

*Hey everyone! Please remember to hit that reblog button as well as liking and following! Sharing the content makes the world spin~ This is probably going to be the last fic I post until winter break. Things have not been going too well for me, I rarely have time to sit down for myself and write or play pokemon at all. But I promise I’ll be back with more fics and series parts with the winter season

“I can’t feel my fingers.”

“And this is why we keep our gloves on,” you emphasized, taking your gloves off and handing it to him to wear as the two of you walked to your apartment, “especially during a snowball fight.”

“But you’ve got to admit, I nailed BA pretty hard.”

“You did,” you giggled and pecked his rosy-cold cheek. “And I’m proud that you did. Knock some sense into him and Harry while you’re at it.” You mumbled the latter part to yourself. The other Wells doppelganger was still having trouble with his daughter, who’s back on Earth-2. She had ‘kicked him off his own Earth’.

“It’s too bad Jesse wasn’t here; I think she would have liked it.”

“She’s still upset with Harry, HR.”

HR did a half shrug, side-glancing at you as he took your hand in his, “She missed all the failed igloos and speedy snow angels, the laughs and arguments we all ended up having on who cheated or not.”

“She’s busy on her Earth being the Flash, though. That must be taking priority over everything else.”

“I know,” he sighed, taking your hand into his. You felt how frigid they were through the knitted gloves you had given him. His eyes met yours are the two of you walked, the chilly air piercing the layers you have on. The novelist hoped that his doppelgangers daughter has been taking care of herself as she takes care of her city. “Harry shouldn’t have avoided her and the issue between them though, that’ll only create a greater rift between them. I know he’s not good with emotions, but… Something doesn’t feel right, like… it just doesn’t add up.”

You only offered the novelist a half-shrug, not really knowing what to say. “I think they’ll end up talking it out, whatever it is that happened between them. They’ll eventually get through it together.” You unlocked the door to your apartment and pushed it open. The door creaked nastily from its hinges; you’ve been meaning to fix that. “Now, let’s first get you inside and thawed out, I’m pretty sure I have some cold sludge stuck down the back of my shirt.”

The two of you entered your cozy apartment, kicking off any spare snow remnant that had clung onto your boots and clothes. Both you and HR left your boots by the door. A shiver ran down your spine, the ice-water mix shifted in your shirt as you moved uncomfortably through your home. You attempted to not track any water on the hardwood floors, eagerly locating some dry towels while HR brought a laundry basket from one of the rooms. The taller man returned with one as you handed him a fluffy towel. You and HR stripped off the winter-y layers of clothes, placing them into the basket. Your long-sleeve shirt clung to your skin, the cool damp cloth making you a bit antsy to get out of it. The Earth-19 being took the basket to throw in the washer, adding in the appropriate amount of detergent and softener. He whistled throughout completing his task, towel around his neck. HR started drying his hair off as he walked back to the living room.

You turned on the weather channel, overhearing Iris mention something about a serious storm going to hit. Flipping through the channels, you finally landed on the Central City News station and just in time for the weather spokesperson to come on screen. The woman fully articulated the severity the storm could cause as well as how many inches of snow to expect with an estimated time. HR’s ears had perked up, eyeing you from behind the couch as you watched the news. You ran a hand through your damp-ish hair before deciding to set it in a towel turban. Well, it’s a good thing I went grocery shopping yesterday. I should still have the portable heater that Cisco made just in case. The candles and matches should be in a spare drawer somewhere.

You glanced over your shoulder to see HR with chaotically messy hair and the collar of his shirt soaked. You nibbled on your bottom lip while setting down the TV remote. “Hey, um… HR do you want to stay over the night? There’s a winter storm coming and stuff,” You sheepishly wrung your fingers for wanting to ask him to stay the night when you knew he probably had an upcoming deadline to meet. Am I being selfish? I’m mean… we’ve been together for almost a little bit over a year now. Gah, fuck, I’m overthinking again. Stupid past relationship trauma and emotional distress. You just didn’t want to inconvenience him.

You will never deny how safe you felt around him, how you didn’t need to be careful of how to act. You can be you. And HR can be the dorkily cute novelist that he is with no filter in regard to his ideas and thoughts and expressions. The two of you complimented each other, two wounded souls just fixing and adoring each other. It took a couple of weeks for you to open up about your past relationships to the novelist, which he listened with understanding and concern taking hold in his eyes. He had done the same thing you had done. HR had proposed to ask three questions and you would need to answer fully and honestly with the reward in return. A reward of something you had long forgotten because having HR understand your past like you had done with him caused your heart to swell to a grand scale.

HR’s gaze softened at you, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I don’t mind staying the night.” It’s so much better than sharing space with one grumpy scientist back at the labs who’ll probably hurl objects at me if I do anything out of line in his eyes. He saw that bit of insecurity eating at you, and he would do all he can to brush it away. Your insecurities had lessened over time, but every now and then it pops back up. But it’s understandable, you were trying your best to be a good and considerate girlfriend.

HR’s heart melted when you perked up, a bright smile crossing your face as if your sullen thoughts had washed away in an instant. “That means we can even make s’mores tonight!”

“How-“

“-I bought this handy dandy electric s’mores maker-”

“-Birdy, we’ve talked about this. You can’t buy every single thing from Amazon.”

“But… but the s’mores.”

“Do I need to take your debit card from you?” HR joked at the pout you had given him, the both of you knowing he would actually do no such thing. But he worried of these little impulse buys you get yourself into. Especially when prompted by Cisco, Iris, and Caitlin.

“I will fucking fight you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re right, I love you too much.”

“Was it really necessary though?”

“… Yes, the state of my survival depends on it.”

“Liar,” HR sighed to himself. “I’m guessing Cisco and Iris happened to be browsing through Amazon again when they got bored? And you happened to be with them? Browsing from page to page, especially the bargains section.”

“… Maybe~”

“…”

“Don’t worry, I made sure I paid my rent and taken care of the apartment before deciding to buy the s’mores maker.”

“Good.”

“Plus, I really bought it for you.” HR felt the tips of his ears warm a bit. “You said it was one of the things you used to make with your mom, but now you just don’t have the time to camp or be by a fire to make them. So… I got this for when you’d come over and stuff…”

“How did I ever get so lucky to have someone as precious as you in my life, my little birdy?”

Your giggle allowed his heart to jump through hoops. Hail started pounding on the windows of your apartment catching both your attentions. “We should probably go wash up. I think I still have some clothes you left when you slept over a few times.” An idea lit up brilliantly in your mind, your brain already gathering the necessary materials.

A smile graced HR’s face, feeling his heart flutter as you shuffled to gather his clothes. I would do anything for you. The taller man looked out the window, observing the outside world ravaging in the heaviness of white fluff. The power might go out soon. If we’re lucky, then it doesn’t. But mother nature doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. “Which drawer are they in?” He questioned, padding off to your bedroom but throwing a glance at you.

“I think they might be in the top left drawer,” you lied to him, needing to buy some time. “I’m not really sure. But if not, you’ll have to look around for them in my closet or something.”

You hurried to the bathroom once he was out of sight, stepping closer to the closet. Twisting the handle, you were greeted with towels on one shelf and scented candles on another. Now, what to choose. You opted for the scents of Balsam-Cedar and Autumn Leaves from Yankee Candle. Scattering the small candle containers around the tub, you made sure they were positioned in a place to avoid any fires. This is going to look simply divine. You mused a cheery hum from your lips as you worked fast. The electric lighter was in a drawer along with the bath bombs for relaxation. You contemplated whether the tiny flower petals were a bit overkill, then figured that it would be. I’m extra as fuck anyway, so why the hell not. You pulled out the mason jar filled with pastel pink-blue hydrangea and hibiscus petals. With everything set up, you just had to fill up the tub with water and work your magic. Shutting off the bathroom lights, you shuffled over to your room right as HR let out an ‘aha!’ when he found his checkered cotton pajama bottoms.

“Come take a bath with me,” you started, taking his hand and squeezing it meaningfully with jubilant warmth within your eyes. “We can warm up faster in less time before the storm cuts out the power.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to…” He trailed off; his other arm held his clothes to his chest. You knew what he meant and nodded assumingly. An ex many years ago had tried to drown you once, but… Your ex isn’t HR. The man in front of you is considerate, kind, dorky, and quirky. The man in front of you is more wholesome and beautiful inside and out than any other man you had been with. You knew the novelist would never dream of hurting you. We’ve proven that much to each other in the past year, we wouldn’t hurt each other no matter what.

“I trust you, HR.” You leaned up and kissed his nose gingerly, “You know I feel safer around you.”

“And I, you,” the taller man allowed you to tug him to the bathroom once you had pulled out your own pajamas and undergarments.

“Before we go inside, I’m going to need to you wait out here for a few moments.”

“Interesting. What are you planning, little birdy?”

“Who? Lil ol’ me? Nothing really!” You responded with a cheeky grin before entering the bathroom. HR just kept that boyish smirk on his face then sneezed. God, he loves you, but he needed to get out of these clothes soon. Another sneeze left him when the sound of water graced the silence in the apartment. The hail had stopped, but heavier clumps of packing snow fell onto the city.

“Done~” you mused with childish delight, opening the bathroom door and ushering him inside. HR held his breath as the scents of the forest greeted him. The candles were beautifully lit around the tub, flickering and wavering as it cradled the bathroom with a dim glow. The bathroom lights were off to allow the candles to work their magic in the darkness. Neither of you would deny the warmth the candles brought as the flames danced happily in their respective glass communities. Scents of cedar oak, maple trees, and autumn leaves flourished in the air, but it wasn’t overbearing. The running water moved gently as you had begun to strip down and out of your clothes. Your movements shook HR out of his trance, tugging his own clothes off, but stopped short of shrugging his pants off when he saw all of you. Your eyes caught his intense gaze. A tight knot formed in the pit of your stomach.

“HR?”

“You’re…” He couldn’t find the right words. Any word couldn’t justify the beauty in front of him. “You’re elegantly divine.” Is what he settled for as he felt hot oil splash onto his cheeks.

“It’s not something you haven’t seen before.”

“It’s something that I hope I don’t have the misfortune to never see.”

You screamed on the inside as your mind started spinning at his desire. A smug grin grew on his face as you looked away, stumbling over to a jar on the sink counter. HR fully stripped, coming up behind you with his arms encasing you and strong hands resting on your hips as he watched. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You leaned back into him, dropping a good two handfuls of flower petals into the water. His body, while chilled from your earlier winter-y activities still provided your own with a spectacle of warmth. Goosebumps gradually ran over every in of your skin. The taller man watched you with tired eyes.

“You know you’re going to have to let me go so we can wash up, right?”

HR pouted, to which you leaned up on your tippy toes to try to kiss his pout away. “Fine, but I think we both deserve some time to cuddle.”

“I was going to trap you in bed, regardless.”

A quiet laugh left his lips. Breaking away from his sturdy limbs and wonderfully sculpted body, you rifled through a drawer for a bath bomb. Milk and Honey~ Unwrapping it and disposing of its bindings into the trash, you set it down into the water as it instantly fizzed.

“Wait, you like bath bombs?” HR questioned with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, but only the organically made ones- that way it doesn’t irritate my skin.” You shut off the hot water and pulled out the necessary towels for the both of you.  “Also, they smell phenomenal!”

“They do.”

“What’s wrong?”

“One year on this Earth and I hadn’t even noticed that you had bath bombs too. Do yours also release an underwater firecracker?”

“An underwater firecracker??”

“Yeah, little ocean sparks underwater that also stimulate the water to move like the waves as if pulled from the effects of the moon.”

You just stared down at the slowly fizzing bath bomb in disappoint. “Why don’t you do that? Rude.” The novelist craned his head down to kiss your cheek with a snicker at your evident disappointment.

You stuck one foot in, the warmth enticing you as a hum left your lips before going all in. A wave of relief washed over your muscles as a tired groan left your lips while shutting your eyes. Leaning back, your skin touched the cool marble of the tub as the water drifted in multiple directions. The water rose to just above the top of your cleavage. HR had followed suit once you fully entered, sitting across from you with his legs crossed. A sigh had left him as he felt the tension in his body break away, the scents also helping him ease into relaxation. After a moment he pulled you in between his legs and you humored him because his were so long that they needed the space. Your eyes finally adjusted to the brightness set by the candles from your position.

You eyed the scar on his chest, teeth raking over your bottom lip. The one where Savitar had left his mark. Those thoughts came back. Your throat dried instantly. Swallowing thickly, your mouth moved on its own accord. “I almost lost you.” HR froze as he leaned his broad back against the tub, an arm on the rim of the cool marble. You reached out a hand to trace over the scarred skin. The closer you had gotten- the more you looked at his upper body- was the more you mentally berated yourself under the soft glow of the candlelight. Scared paths and crossroads of tinged undertones on his skin, some faint- others dark and deep. A few were clean and a few others were messy. Even the scar, perfectly hidden by his left eyebrow seemed to be clearer to your eyes now. Your heart sank in your chest, frustration and anger and hurt welling up inside you at the pain HR must have endured over the years. But mostly, anger and hatred towards yourself. How have I been so blind? How many times have my eyes overlooked these? How pathetic and ignorant have I become? HR shivered under your touch, under your gaze over the ugly reminders on his body. “We’ve been together for a year,” you started, “a little bit over a year- and I’m a damned fool for never truly seeing how hurt you’ve been.”

“I…” The words died in HR’s mouth. The sullen look in your glassy eyes, the pained expression on your face. His heart felt heavy, yet it oddly thrummed loudly in his chest. The warmth of the water didn’t help how you were feeling.

“And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Just being by my side and seeing who I am- how I’m worth something, exceeds any grim reminder of my past.”

“But, I didn’t-”

HR took your hand and intertwined your fingers together, “You’re the light of my life, you allowed me to forget my past and accepted me, all of me. I don’t hold it against you that you didn’t notice, we’ve been going through one hoop after another with these crazed villains. Hell, I forget the scars are even there when you’re with me… I feel whole when you’re with me.” The novelist strained emphasis on the last sentence. You felt the tears start to riot in your eyes before streaming down your face. HR gently cupped your face, wiping the tears away with a dry hand. “I’m happy that you overlooked them. I’m happy that I could shed them when I’m around you.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “I’m still mad at Iris,” you whispered with a sharp sniffle, your fingers finding the scar over his heart once more. “No, I’m pissed that she didn’t the willpower and guts to speak up when she had a chance. We… we could have prevented… both of you could have-”

“-We could have gone through a million different avenues, but the results would have led to the same road.”

“Wouldn’t it? You, at least, couldn’t have been hurt if we had done something differently.”

“Iris could have been hurt.”

“You were hurt!” You snapped as your voice wavered. “You were going to die, had it not been for Julian and Cisco and Barry. I… I can’t lose you. Every night, a dark thought slips into my mind. You could have died- You could have died right there when you were just starting to live a life of your own. All because of Barry and Iris.” Your cheeks felt wet and only then did you realize that the tears had pooled up and escaped. His gaze softened at you, nonetheless, the tears didn’t take away from any frustration that you had presented.

HR recognized the bitterness in your voice. The fiery anger within your eyes as you looked up at him with desperation. The same anger that he had long disciplined himself to distance from. Anger blinds all gates of logic within the mind. Because in a way, you were right. Iris could have easily said something when she was disguised as his persona. Instead the queen of the castle seemed reluctant in sacrificing herself, instead allowing the pawn to take the fall. HR had thrown it all away to save someone who didn’t really care to know him and treated him with disdain at first. All to prove to the others that he was worth being on their side. To prove to Savitar that he wasn’t a coward like the projected future had revealed. But most importantly, to prove to himself that he’s capable of more than just standing on the sidelines as backup. The anger and distraught and hate. HR worked tirelessly to move past them. You were his future now. You and the fact that in the end he seemed to earn his spot. Sadly, even at the expense of his own life. At the end of the day those were the cold, hard facts. Ones he willingly chooses to not give in to.

“But I’m here.” HR wrapped his long arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You choked back on a sob. Your anger waned at his gentle touch. “I’m here and I’m alive,” he let out roughly, letting you cry it all out as he rubbed your back soothingly. HR knew everything you had said had been true. And even if it did work out in the end, he didn’t want to imagine a reversal of the situation. If it had been you who had traded places with Iris instead of him. The novelist can only hope that the team wouldn’t have to put anyone else in a situation like that. That Barry and Iris wouldn’t have to play close to this dangerous game of chess again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sniffled, calming down with a stutter. You knew that anger blinds judgment. You didn’t hate Iris, but you resented her inability to save both her live and HR’s. HR wet his hands and cleared your face from any remnant of tears. kissing your eyelids sweetly.

“Interesting that you put hydrangeas and hibiscus petals.”

“How so? And how did you know?” you raised a questioning eyebrow at HR.

“The jar’s labeled.” You facepalmed at yourself. Of course, the jar’s fucking labeled, I’m such a dumbass. “But also, I studied the language of the flowers as well as the language of the colors for my writing.”

“So, what do hibiscus plants stand for?”

“From what I recall,” HR scratched the back of his neck in recollection, “they stand for love and affection between family members, friends, and others. A perfect statement of gentle feelings towards the others. It can even symbolize passionate relationships.” You had placed both hands on his shoulders as he spoke, mesmerized by his knowledge of the flower. He wiggled his eyebrows at his later statement, causing you to giggle with flushed cheeks.

“What about the hydrangeas?”

“Ironically, heartfelt emotions,” he kissed your cheek, rubbing the skin of your lower back as he continued. “Gratitude for being understood.”

“I would call it more of a fateful coincidence,” you mumbled, pressing your lips to his for a chaste kiss. But truthfully, he just wanted to roll around in bed with you and kiss you silly to his heart’s content… amongst other certainly heart-fluttering bedroom activities. When you pulled away, your eyes drifted over his figure. “Can- Can I ask you about them?”

Them. HR knew what you were referring too. That curiosity of yours is one day going to land you in trouble, birdy. HR mused to himself with a little noise of thought. He was well past the mental pain, taking up meditation and various things to acknowledge and push past it. But the idea of you feeling the need to know didn’t rub him the wrong way like it should have. Rather, it stirred something deep in his heart, a playful glint hidden in his eyes. “Depends on what’s in it for me, little birdy?”

You thought deeply for a minute and HR remained silent, running patterns over the skin of your arm. You felt warmth build up on your skin with every contact. “One night.”

“One night…?”

“One night, you can do anything to me- within reasonable bounds. You decide when the night can be.”

The Wells doppelganger immediately licked his lips and felt his blood rush at the notion. “Is that your final condition?” Because if it is, this big bad wolf’s going to make sure to devour his little red riding hood all night long. HR tilted your head back, a hooked finger under your chin as his lips skimmed over yours. There’s much planning that needs to be done.

“Y-yeah.”

“‘Yeah’ isn’t a word of confirmation.” Learned that one from a law buddy back on Earth-19.

“Yes,” you won’t deny the anticipation in your voice. The murky white waters retaliated with every movement from the two of you. “One question, one scar.”

“One question, one scar, one night.” The novelist smirked down at you, a cocky look on his face.

“Fair enough.” I essentially ordered one love romp of a night… I’m so fucked, literally and figuratively. I just hope I don’t have to come into the Labs the next day, neither of us.

HR watched you closely, grabbing the body wash as you decided with a focused look on what scar to choose. Your eyes roamed his body. You already knew of his mental scars, and he knew of yours. The novelist waited patiently as you quietly processed the image of them on his skin. Some scars on his body were from hitmen, bullies, or muggers- mainly during his young adult life or when he was creating STAR Labs with Randolph. That bastard probably sent some after me, wouldn’t be surprised since he knew I would be executed if I crossed dimensions. Bath sponge in hand, he lathered your body wash on the sponge with every intention that he would help wash you while he reiterated a scarred tale.

“What’s the story behind the one on your eyebrow?”

That one took HR by surprise; usually human nature would be intrigued with the most noticeable of things- big things. Instead, you pinpointed the one that was easily concealable in plain sight. Settling for the smaller scar in comparison to the others. The novelist took your arm, scrubbing your skin with lips pressed thinly. You opened your lips to ask if he’d rather you choose a different one, but HR cut you off in a matter of milliseconds.

“I got it back during my university years. I was an English Arts major,” he paused for a moment, switching to your other arm to give it the same treatment. “My father obviously didn’t approve, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep going with my literary studies, taking up photography in my spare time. One day, I was just walking through the city in the late evening. Dismal and dark, with fog everywhere.” HR rinsed off your arms, gesturing for you to turn around between his legs so he can start on your back. He plucked off the PanOxyl Foaming Wash bottle from beside a candle, using a different sponge specifically for the backwash. You had told him that sometimes you unfortunately get acne on your back and shoulders, so you use this backwash to keep it clean and acne-free. To your surprise he wasn’t revolted in any way, instead he admired your constant diligence with wanting to keep good hygiene, especially since so many factors can trigger different responses from the human body. You silently waited, listening intently as he continued. “I heard whimpers. Cries coming from down the alley. There was this… this small puppy- I-I can’t really recall what breed it was, but it looked hunger and tired and scared.” You looked back at him, heart aching as you saw his eyes show the pain in his heart too. “I thought to myself. How could someone leave a helpless baby animal to starve in the city’s alleyways? Why couldn’t someone have the heart to nurture it?”

“What did you do?”

HR ran the water over your back to remove any bubbles or foaming wash from your skin. “I saw myself in the puppy. Lost. Abandoned. Alone.” he whispered as he raised his chin, eyes finally meeting yours as you fully turned to observe him. Your gaze softened; your wet hand reached out to cup his jaw. Droplets of water fell from your skin into the colored water as he nuzzled into your touch. “I approached it, I wanted to keep it safe and warm. It didn’t object when I picked it up, cradling it like it the baby that it is. It trembled and shivered in my arms.” His heart dipped remembering the way the puppy felt in his arms. One of his larger hands held onto yours, the one cupping his chiseled jaw. “I had to do something, couldn’t just leave it there.” I couldn’t abandon it.

“There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there?”

“There always is…” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Things went south when a couple of drunk guys found me and the puppy. Turns out these were the same guys that had been harassing the little one through the alleys. They had been trying to use the puppy in illegal cage fights.” HR bowed his head slightly. “One thing led to the other, there was a knife and I was running like hell with the puppy. Until they cornered me, hence…” He trailed off, gesturing to his eyebrow scar with a free hand.

“HR,” you whispered, but he squeezed your hand as he took it off his face. Your other hand tightened into a fist in the water. HR’s eyes caught the movement but didn’t say anything.

“They roughed me up pretty good- I’m wasn’t- I’m not a fighter, but I would have been damned if that little puppy had been hurt. I ended up finding the little guy a home where he can be looked after and well-fed and safe.” You unclenched your fist, gently listing it to stroke his stubbly cheek as he concluded. HR ran his fingers down the length of your arm.

“You’re safe.”

“I know. You’re safe too, my little birdy.”

“I know.”

You twisted your body, stretching an arm out as you reached for his Old Spice body wash. It was your turn to help wash him. You started working away at his sturdy chest, obviously doing your best to not ogle at his abs and his entirely toned framework. But he caught your eyes drifting off more than once.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always listening to me.”

“I love you, HR. And I would do anything in the multiverse to keep you safe and loved. You’re my one one one after all.” You winked at him, eliciting a deep chuckle from his lips. Music to your eyes, smiling as the corners of his lips lifted upwards. “There’s that radiant smile I love so much.” The man blushed but continued to grin.

HR ran a hand through his hair before catching a glimpse of his hair in the mirror. He squinted a bit as he held a lock between two fingers. “Looks to be about that time of year again.” Your fingers threaded through his hair once he released the strand.

“I’m assuming a haircut is needed.”

“Yup”

“I will never understand how men ask for their hair to be done.”

“It’s honestly really easy, with the provided visuals of course. I should take you with me once.”

“I’d be okay with that.”

“Probably going to need to dye my hair black again.”

“I think I have some leftover dye in a cabinet somewhere. You know… I wouldn’t mind seeing silver streaks on you. Makes you look like a sly silver fox to me.”

“… I’ll keep that in mind for next time as long as you allow me to learn how to do those intricate braids in your hair.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Wells.” You leaned up to kiss his lips.” The novelist smirked against your lips as he ran a hand over your bum. Neither of you had noticed that the water was starting to become lukewarm, the candles and warmth of each other distracted the two of you. “It’s a done deal.”

Taking his Old Spice Shampoo in hand, you squeezed a good amount out meanwhile he tilted his head down closer for you to reach. HR’s hands settled on your hips, steadying you on his lap to have your legs wrap around his waist. You scrubbed and massaged his scalp, creating a bubbly hairdo for him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. But once your bright eyes met his baby blue ones, you felt your heart skip in your chest.

HR felt your hands slow as you retracted them but made no effort in submerging them in the water to get rid of the bubbles. Instead your smaller hands rested on his broad shoulders with the tips of your fingers doing a sort of feather-light dance against his skin. The novelist found himself mesmerized by your radiance, never mind the candlelight that continued to flicker around the both of you. You felt hypnotized by his baby blue eyes, pulling you into an ocean of wonder. HR licked his lips with half-lidded eyes as you moved to kiss him deeply, your lips slowly moved against his with a sensual kind of dance to it. The doppelganger breathed you in slowly and he pressed forward. His palm rested on your cheek while his other hand took one of yours to hold onto. The kiss broke but was soon reconnected. Over and over again. The moment wasn’t rushed. There was no hurry to get to the finish line. It was just you and him and the wisps of fire around the two of you. HR nibbled on your lower lip before you reluctantly pulled away. Your tongue ran over your swollen bottom lip.

“We should probably finish up before the power decides to run out,” you started in a low-ish voice. HR noted the slight jitter in it and his heart swelled at the effect of his kisses on you.

“I don’t think it might get to that point. We’d probably end up snowed in, but there’s a chance that the power might not go out.”

“It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“I know. If we must, then by all means,” The novelist murmured, nuzzling his nose with yours before the two of you finished washing up.

HR stepped out first from the foamy waters of the tub, stretching a fine limb over for some dry towels. He handed one to you when you had stepped out after him unfortunately a little less graceful as you almost slipped on the tiled floor. HR’s hand reached out to steady you. Giving him a sheepish smile, you whispered a thank you to which he returned with a wink. He knew you could be clumsy at times, but nevertheless he’s grown to love that about you. HR had come to realize that him being able to catch you from tripping over your feet or stopping you from running into things would give him a sense of ‘being your hero’ or ‘saving you’. It was just a small thing that made him happy. A ‘your hero in-the-moment’ kind of thing.

You wrapped the towel around you to rid your body of the water and bubbles. The two of you had cleaned each other well which made you sigh in contentment because feeling clean and being clean made you feel satisfied and relieved after a long day. You couldn’t help the stare you had fallen into as your eyes roamed over your boyfriends’ body as he dried himself off. Subconsciously, you licked your lips at every dip of skin, every inch of muscle. Wrapping another towel around your hair, your eyes never left HR until he turned towards you. You blinked for a split second and hastily busied yourself with pulling your undergarments from your clothes pile. HR walked back past you with his pajama’s on. The novelist had every intention in extinguishing the candles that were left only to land a soft smack on your ass. You let out a little yelp in surprise at the impact.

“See something you like?” He teased as he blew the fire out. He knew. There was a large mirror in the bathroom after all. A smirk finally settled on his face, one that he had been repressing until he smacked your ass. The heat had stayed on your cheeks from the bath and getting caught.

“Maaaaaaaaybeeeeeeee.” To be honest, it was a nice ass.

HR chuckled, “Well, since you’re done why don’t you get that cute ass of yours in bed while I go and get the smores maker?”

“How can I ever refuse such a generous offer?” You hummed, leaning up to kiss him. The Wells doppelganger nipped at your lips in return then broke away from you. He stepped towards the door. “HR?”

“Hm?” He turned back to you with curious eyes. There was a soft glow that had settled within your eyes. The sight made his body tingle.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[malethirsty]

Loyalty - Klaus Mikaelson & Stefan Salvatore

Summary: To move forward in your relationship with Klaus, you take a trip back to the 1920s with old friend Stefan Salvatore. The discovery you find about them isn’t that shocking, but their request certainly is.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Mentions of Mikael, Ripper!Stefan

Ever since you stood up for yourself, you found Elena and her gang had not interacted with you, which greatly relieved you. With them gone, you decided to throw yourself into becoming part of Klaus’s army to assassinate Mikael alongside Tyler, Klaus however had a different idea. “Y/N, he’s dangerous, he’ll try to get to me through hurting you if you’re out there!” “And what about Tyler?, he’s out with the other hybrids trying to keep you safe, please share the same care with him as you do me!” Klaus softened a bit, he only seemed to do that with you, Tyler & Stefan these days, anyone else would be bitten as punishment or slapped around by the hybrid. “You’re human love, they are hybrids. It’s not that I don’t care about Tyler, but you were the first person in a long time who’s shown me love, I can’t let that go” you backed off albeit tentatively “Look, I know how much getting rid of this prick means to you, so I don’t want him to live rent free in your life.” “And how do you plan to throw him out if it’s not killing him?” Klaus posed to you “How about a party/history lesson? You always said Stefan pulled you out of a depressing revery in the 1920s, so we throw a 20s styled party, just us.” Klaus grinned “Y/N, somehow you come up with the best ideas to keep me in a good mood. Deal, we can spend tomorrow night together, I’m sure Stefan won’t mind” “Check in case!” Klaus grinned as he left to find his friend.

Stefan gave the all clear so you spent some of the following morning with Tyler, supporting him in training in case he needed to defend himself from hunting the brutal original vampire, while Klaus got the elements of the party ready and Stefan got done up. As the afternoon rolled in, you headed back up to the Mikaelson house to get ready, Klaus said it started at 7PM sharp, and you were aware you need a solid few hours to look like a 20s Modern Man. Heading in, you discovered that Klaus had left you a 20s styled suit & a compelled team to help you get ready and act as extras to set the mood for the night. They were also compelled to let Klaus know if something came up with Mikael, which you discovered as your hair was done over by one of the staffers ‘Well at least he’s on somewhat of an alert rather than dropping it’ you thought. After a few hours, you had turned from 21st Century Cool to 20th Century Swave. A few minutes to 7, you headed down the stairs & into the dining room.

The room was decked out, blue hangings on the walls, the female members of the team compelled to dance in flapper gear, the male members of the team compelled to serve empty tables & at a table in the centre, sat Klaus & Stefan. They turned around as you entered with Klaus giving a trademark grin & Stefan waving you over. “Well Y/N, you look incredible love” Klaus complimented as you sat down “Not so bad yourself Mr. Original Hybrid.” You sent back, Klaus smiling at your attempt at a flirty comment “And Klaus probably won’t tell you, but your blood smells fantastic.” Stefan said, obviously conplimenting you but it caused Klaus to turn his head slightly, an expression of blankness on his face but you knew better, Klaus had to have been seething at Stefan’s bloodlust taking hold. “Now now! I don’t want either of you getting angry, this is a night of relaxing.” "I thought this was supposed to be a history lesson as well as a party?” Klaus reminded you “And me and Stefan here didn’t approve of each other when we met.” “I know that, but Texas Chainsaw Massacre was not made in Chicago in the 1920s, so keep it festive.” Klaus let a dimply smile cross his face while Stefan laughed “Other than the blue drapes and the one floor, this is an exact replica of where I first met Klaus. I was dating Rebekah at the time & I needed to make a good first impression” 

“So what did you do to win him over?” Y/N asked Stefan “I made one of the dancers cut herself so she bled into a glass & then made her asshole husband drink it.” he said naturally. You very nearly choked on your drink, you knew Stefan was sharp at the best of times but God Damn! “Ever since that, I’ve cared deeply for him, he made me feel at home, gave me self worth, I loved him so much.” As Klaus made his statement you realised in a way, Klaus & Stefan besides the whole blood glass thing were a lot like you & Klaus, the things about confidence resonated, as that was what you helped him with in those first interactions. As the evening went on, waiters served decade styled meals to your table, and you quickly got a taste for the cheese platters. However Klaus knowing your straight edge side, eschewed the alcohol portion leaving it to him & Stefan, instead you had your selection of juices. It eventually did seem like the 1920s were still going on & eventually you got onto the dance floor & had a variety of dances, like slow dancing Klaus to Dream A Little Dream of Me to the Charleston with Stefan & eventually having a messy routine with the compelled flappers to Fred Astaire, much to the laughter of the vampire/hybrid combination you had shared dinner with. 

Eventually Klaus decided to show you another part of his & Stefan’s time in the 20s, but it was to be done in the bedroom on the second landing, so you followed both Klaus & Stefan up the stairs “Make sure no one’s coming” Klaus asked you as he sped into the bedroom with Stefan, and you glanced around at the landing to find no one there. “All clear” you said as you turned around “Good love, now enter our domain”, you moved into the bedroom and closed the door. Turning around, you saw Klaus & Stefan pounce at each other, entangling in a beautiful kiss, you stared in shock before placing your hands on your hips “I knew it! I knew you two had a thing! There’s a lot of chemistry between you, more than a couple of friends.” Klaus & Stefan parted and looked towards you “It took a while but after Stefan acknowledged me as a King one night, I took him to my room and fucked him into the next sunrise.” Stefan moaned out and looked to you “You’ve been on the end of that cock Y/N, you know what Klaus can do for his lover.” You moved towards them “And I guess I’m supposed to watch you enact your history together?” "Oh no love, we expect you to be with us tonight.” Klaus responded “Stefan, do the honours” 

Stefan sped towards you, ridding you of your clothing before leading you to Klaus. “Mm” Klaus praised, looking you up and down “Love, are you ready to be fucked by a Hybrid and his Rippah?” You looked behind you to see Stefan admiring your backside and turned back to Klaus “What’s taking you both so bloody long?” You grinned, knowing you’d get them cocky enough to wreck you and you were not disappointed. Klaus seized you, pulling you toward him as Stefan sped behind you so you wouldn’t escape as Klaus smashed his lips on yours, Stefan taking the opportunity to kiss your neck. It was utter bliss stuck between the both of them as you removed Klaus’s shirt to rub his nipples, the hybrid moaning breathily into your mouth. Stefan decided to stimulate your nipples as well, causing the kiss to break as you threw your head back in a moan as you gripped onto Klaus’s shoulders, Stefan taking control of your mouth in a kiss as Klaus kissed over the parts of your neck that Stefan had graced. “Klaus. Stefan. Naked. Now. Please.” was all you were able to get out as they worked over you, in a speedy flash Klaus had removed his suit pants whilst Stefan removed everything he had “Fuck Stefan, you’re so muscular!” You said shocked, you had never appreciated his good looks before. The vampire grinned “Looks like Y/N appreciated my physique the same as you when you took me that first night in Chicago.” he said to Klaus “We have good taste, he and I” Klaus responded “Now love, get on the bed, and let us please you tonight.

You made your way onto Klaus’s bed, whilst the two men stalked towards you, each kissing a side of your face and down your neck. They emerged with black veins on their faces, fangs elongated and knowing they wished to feed, you tilted your neck up in offering. “God, he has a really pretty neck.” Stefan said to Klaus adoringly “And he’s all ours, what fun!” Klaus & Stefan struct in synchronicity drinking you deep as you cried out. “Yes, drink from me, you beautiful creatures, use me as your blood bag, take your share before you fuck me.” You cried out, utterly intoxicated by the feeling of these two forces of nature sucking your blood. Soon enough both Klaus & Stefan removed themselves from your neck, blood dripping from their faces. “Fuck, it was so hard not to drain you babe, you tasted perfect, more perfect than anyone else” Stefan moaned out, leaning down to kiss you, your blood still on his lips. He soon parted, licking the traces off yours and his lips. You grinned, you had another dose of ammunition if Elena decided to get brave again, Klaus detected your euphoria and leant down for a kiss as well. “Love, we can smell how you lust for us, shall we fuck you now?” "Yes Klaus, oh God I need you both!”, Klaus bit his wrist & hold it to your mouth “Drink love, you will need all your strength back for what’s next”, as you drank, your neck healed and you became a lot more bolder than before.

Klaus & Stefan put on a show whilst you drank, kissing, whilst stroking each others cock, now dripping with precum, they soon broke apart, Klaus removing his wrist from your mouth “You ready for us?” They asked together. You grinned at them “Yes”. They thrusted forwards, you yelled out from the pain and the two immediately halted, letting you get used to their cocks. After a while you nodded your head & the two began to fuck into you, moans filling the room as the two supernatural creatures fucked you. “We would always do this in Chicago” Stefan whispered in your ear “Find some whore, fight over them so they’d get aroused about using us, then we’d take them to our room, fuck them, then drink all their blood, me and Klaus bathed in our spoils.” You let out a cry as Klaus found your G-Spot. Stefan grinned knowing Klaus was giving you the utmost pleasure “It’s hot to see how subservient you are to him, you deserve to be with him, well” Stefan shrugged “Along with me of course.”

Klaus now moved down as Stefan took the reigns to smash into your prostate “Look at what you’ve turned The Rippah into, he may not show it, but he’s falling apart as your hole tightens around his cock, you might even domesticate him. You’d like that right? A big bad rippah, draining your enemies dry before fucking you in a blaze of passion, making you come with him?” You nodded at Klaus, a moan escaping your lips to a grin from the hybrid “I’d love that as well love.” He stared at Stefan “I want him with us forever from now on.” You looked at Stefan with pleading eyes “Oh fuck! Yes Stefan, we need you, me and Niklaus, I can never get enough of your massive cock filling me up, Niklaus loves you, I love you! God Stefan!” Any composure Stefan had was lost as he bucked into your harsher, cries of passion coming from him, as Klaus leant into his ear “Now Stefan, come for Y/N.” Stefan reared his head back, crying out in sated bliss as he shot his load, pulling out of you, he moved aside and watched as Klaus took centre stage. “God Stefan, your load is so warm, I’m going to fuck it into Y/N even more, you watch as I take him” Stefan grinned at his longtime love as he rested, admiring you & Klaus as you fucked. 

You leant up and kissed Klaus & moved your hand over his tattoos “They look beautiful Niklaus” Klaus had become a grunting mess as he fucked into you, but gave you a wink. “Yeah, you like it Y/N. Fucking take it!” Stefan teased as he watched you be used by the hybrid, “Yes love, you’re so tight around me, so beautiful, God!” Klaus cried out, Klaus began to whirl above you, using his speed & you knew you were a gonner. As he fucked harder and harder, you shot your load, your eyes seeing stars as you saw Klaus begin to fall as equally apart “Yes love, I’m gonna come!” no sooner had Klaus said this, he groaned out as he began to shoot his cum. Klaus pulled out and rested next to you, Stefan on the other side. 

The bed suddenly creeked, then collapsed. You all burst into laughter “Well I mean, did any of us expect it to stay up?” you got out, Klaus & Stefan continuing their laughter “No I guess not” Stefan got out. The fun mood was soon ruined by one of the compelled waiters rushing in, the “HEY’S” followed by protecting yourselves was left ignored the waiter who had a blank expression as he said “Klaus, Tyler and his army have located and restrained Mikael.” You turned to look at Klaus but he had speedingly dressed and left. You turned to Stefan, who looked very serious “I hope Klaus makes him suffer, not only for breaking us apart but for everything he put Klaus through” You nodded as you rested yourself against Stefan, both waiting for the hybrid to return. You both did not have to wait long as Klaus raced back panting but grinning “I- I did it, Mikael’s gone” Stefan raced over to him & kissed him. “We captured him out alone & sent the signal as soon as we could” Tyler said racing in, you rushing over to him “Oh thank God you’re ok! I was worried about you getting hurt.” “He put up a fight but I got him”. Soon you both made seperate ways, Klaus & Stefan spending a much deserved night together with each other and you making sure Tyler was alright.

[hoedameron]

i’ve been absolutely SLACKING on talking about my gifsets so i will discuss them here <3 this gif was made a week ago to test out new settings and to color this was ATROCIOUS because the scene has a yellow filter (to probably make the scene be set “in the past” because of where sam and cas are at) so....everyone big round of applause for ME because i think i did a solid mf job here <3 kissing a mirror after i hit post.

anyways! i’ve already talked about my bucky vs. lucky cat gifset, right? anyways, so the next gifset i made was actually a set i didn’t release because, again, i’m trying out new settings and they weren’t working the way i wanted them to until i figured it out MUCH later (even after the gif above). it was a zemo gifset where we first get introduced to him in tfatws where he’s in his jail cell. i wanted to drop it but i just did NOT like how it turned out so....that set is in the vault :(

the next set i made was the zemo dance (extended cut) !! that was very fun to make. when i saw that mcu direct said that marvel dropped the #zemocut i was like HOLD UP!! and i couldn’t stop laughing at it ajskdsjakldsa there was so much pure joy there....then i saw that the only footage they had that wasn’t in a square format was the hour long extended cut....and that took CENTURIES to download just 25 seconds of the video. before i knew it, as i was making the set, somebody already put out their own gifset and it raked in a lot of notes so i was super insecure to keep going. i was unsure of how to color it, i still didn’t have the sharpening settings that i wanted on lock...gosh, making that set was so damn messy and anxiety-inducing because i was just all over the place :/ y’all know i’m a zemogirl so i wanted this to be made with love and well-crafted so of course i was extra harsh on myself. anyways, like i said before, i still didn’t get my settings all down so there was a lot of old methods i had to resort to that i hadn’t resorted to since 2013....I WENT OLD SCHOOL ON THIS SET. the scenes were easy to make into sections and i didn’t gif EVERY single move that he made because some were like a second short and i was like...i can’t really make this into a solid gif. anyways! i actually used a coloring that i used to make my discord pfp when we only had the original dance move so i really liked how that coloring came out and thought it could easily transfer to the other gifs. it needed a little tweaking on some of the “lighter” scenes where there is a bunch of lights all about his face but overall i really like the coloring and i am glad to y’all did as well!! <3 

when i came to making the caption, i was SO stumped because i wanted to be funny but at the same time, i remember when i tried to be funny on a caption and i got thesis papers of tags on the gifset...so i didn’t want a repeat of that. i was asking the asteroids for their opinions on what i should make it and GOSH, the way i laughed so mf hard at what they replied asjdkasjkdlsak what a bummer that i ended up captioning it pretty generically because their messages were gold xx hours after i posted the set, i took a bath and realized that i could’ve used the quote daniel bruhl said about how he improvised the dance and i was like....MISSED OPPORTUNITY :(( but i do like the caption and i do like my own tags that i put on there like MWAHHH my mind :3c

the other gifset is the chilling john walker scene. wyatt did not have to snap the way that he did but thank you, sir <33 i had the idea to do make everything black and white and only the red stand out while i was in the bathroom?? SO funny like all my ideas come from silly little places. anyways, so i hopped on and grabbed the scene then the rest is just easy. it’s a psd that i use that i sadly do not remember who made it :// but their legacy lives on wherever their new blog name is! anyways, my photoshop actually....stopped when i tried to make the second gif and i was like NAURRR because i didn’t remember exactly where i cut the second part from....messy xx but i had to restart my entire computer then make it all over again. still, i actually did have my sharpen atn settings down to a T so what you have is what the sharpen atn does without me messing with it. the zemo one is me trying to work with the atn and reverse engineering that shit. i actually don’t like the speed that the john walker set is at because i think it’s a bit slow but i know that a lot of gifsets on here are actually taking a slower approach? which, that’s great! but it’s simply not for me miss. speedy gonzalez and all. anyways, easy gifset where i left that sharpen atn do it’s thing and let the psd do it’s thing (with minor adjustments). overall, i really do like the coloring in this!! super mf sexy.

and that is IT! what a busy little bee i’ve been. i’ve also made some other gifs on the side for myself and for friends so even if i’m not actually posting that much, i am still trying to work on my skills on being a better content creator. one big thing that i mastered is the sharpen atn and though i feel like it takes some time to do, it really is worth it in the end. still debating whether to make gifs at a .04 speed o a .05 speed because sometimes gifs do far better with a faster speed than a slower one. all my gifs are set at a .05 and not sure if i should venture off into creating more....faster speeds that result in something a bit more “crisper” as some will say.

mwahh!! i love y’all for letting me ramble here!! 

[lustinglilac]

Popsicle

A/N: Okay, Graceland could arguably be my favorite show ever. I had to write something for my baby Jakes, the lack of Jakes content (and Briggs) on here is sad :( I have no idea who on here watched Graceland but, I really hope someone did enough to enjoy this!

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), 18+, teasing, strong language, unprotected sex, read at your own risk ;) *gif not mine- literally the perfect gif for this story 😂*

Walking out of her room, she found it upon herself to see what Johnny was up to, and thank goodness she did, knocking on his door lightly.

“Hey, what’s up, baby?” His usual smirking face greeted her as she walked into the room.

“Nothing, just bored. You seen Jakes anywhere?” Her palm skims across the messy duvet cover on his bed before pushing it up the bed and sitting on the edge of it. She notices the beige wooden stick sticking out of his mouth, smiling wickedly when the idea pops into her pretty head.

“Nah— he might be outside or somethin’. What’re you smilin’ for?” He eyes her suspiciously, taking one earbud out of his ear to hear what she had to say.

“You got anymore of those popsicles left? I wanna mess with him when I see him.” She hummed contently, arching her brow mischievously.

“Hell yeah—“ He digs around in the mini fridge next to him, pulling out a perfectly wrapped popsicle, “Here you go. Use it in good health, mama.” He winks.

She stands up eagerly, taking the cold treat from between his fingers, “You‘re the best. Thank you!” She kisses his cheek and all but runs off in search of her boyfriend.

“Woah— woah! Slow down, speedy.” She nearly takes down Briggs on the way down the stairs, mumbling out an apology to the taller man and stopping in her tracks when she finds her boyfriend on the couch watching the news, sipping a beer with Zelanski.

“Jakes, I’ve been looking for you.” She gasps, her legs taking her to him immediately.

“Sorry, I stepped outside for a minute. C’mere, baby.” Jakes drawls out, patting the empty cushion next to him.

“Hi, Z.” She smiles down at the younger agent, patting his shoulder on the way past him. A faint blush blooms over his cheeks as he returns the smile, going back to whatever he was doing on his phone.

She angles her body slightly away from him to where he could still have a perfect view of her mouth, placing one of her legs on top of his and unwrapping the popsicle.

Jakes doesn’t seem to notice though, trying to get comfortable with his girl next to him, asking Zelanski to switch the channel to something more interesting.

She sticks her tongue out swiping it over the bright red tip of the popsicle and finally enclosing her lips around it. She didn’t mean to let out a slight slurping sound that caught Zelanski’s attention in an instant, his head snapping in her direction.

Zelanski thanked God she hadn’t looked over to him, his eyes wide once he saw what she was eating. Jakes still hadn’t noticed though, too engrossed in the TV show to hear what she was doing.

She had to kick it up a notch, placing the frozen treat flat against her tongue and letting it melt for a second, then closing her lips around the tip of it, sucking it into her mouth lewdly.

“Baby, what are you—“ Jakes’ head turned in her direction, absentmindedly caressing her leg that rested on his thighs. 

Oh, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the red popsicle nestled between her plush lips. As discreetly as possible, he looked around her to Zelanski who had his mouth wide open, damn near drooling on the pillow underneath his head.

“Hmmm?” She hummed around it, sliding it out of her mouth with a pop, “What?” She cocked her head to the side innocently.

“Nah— stop playing.” Jakes sets his empty bottle down on the table harshly, “Where’d you get that from?” He quirks an eyebrow at her.

“From Johnny.” She shrugs, trying so hard to bite back a smile as not to ruin the moment.

Jakes wipes at his mouth slowly, “Johnny? Yeah, okay, cool.” Conversation cut short as he tried to return back to his show, adjusting his position on the couch. Fuck, he was getting hard.

For the few minutes she held conversation with him, the popsicle had begun to melt, starting to drip slowly down her fingers.

“Oh, fuck—“ She gasped softly, the sound going straight to his cock, her tongue darting out to lick at the stray drops of ice cream that threatened to spill.

He whipped his head around again, “That’s it. Gimme the damn thing.” Reaching over trying to grab it from her.

“Jakes, wait!” She pouted, holding her hand far away, laughing hysterically when he’d caught onto her thigh to try and reel her back in.

“Give it!” He grunted, reaching over her body to grab at the popsicle that began to leave a sticky mess all over her hands and body.

“Yo— take it easy man.” Zelanski whines when his view is obscured by Dale’s body.

“Bates, I swear to God, you keep watchin’ her, I’ll rip your eyes out with my hands.” Jakes spoke through gritted teeth, swearing up and down.

“Tastes so good.” An exaggerated moan that turns into a giggle leaves her lips. She was so in for it now.

“Yeah? Lemme get a taste, then.” Jakes growls, pinning her body down to the couch, swiping his tongue over the exposed skin of her neck and then the top of her exposed cleavage, wiping away a stray red droplet that happened to land there.

She struggled to hold in her laugh as he finally grabbed the stick of the popsicle, “Baby stop!”

“Shit, y’all are freaky!” Johnny’s voice sounds at the bottom of the stairs, watching the interaction between the two of them.

“Get up.” Jakes whispers harshly against her lips, taking her hand and pulling her up to stand in front of him.

He leads them towards the stairs where Johnny was standing, placing the almost melted popsicle in his hands.

“Bro— I know you did not just give this to me after it’s been in your girl’s mouth.” Johnny holds it as far away from him as possible grimacing.

“Enjoy it, Johnny, no more of these allowed in the house for a while.” Jakes calls out behind him, already landing their bodies on the top step.

Zelanski gets up from the couch wordlessly, walking over to Johnny and plucking it out of his hands, trying it for himself.

“Dude— my man. You did not just—“ Johnny could barely form a sentence at this point between what he just witnessed from Jakes to Bates.

“What? Oh sorry— you want some?” Zelanski offers it back with a shrug. Johnny gags, nearly throwing up on site.

Upstairs, she’d already been laid down on the bed by a very eager Jakes.

“That stunt you pulled down there? Real fucking cute.” Jakes speaks breathlessly, leaning down to place a kiss to her parted lips. They were stained a light shade of red from that damned popsicle, her mouth slightly cold from the treat.

“Yeah? What’d you like about it?” She mocks, giggling against his lips, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t know what I liked more; the fact that you were deepthroating a fucking popsicle like it was my dick or the fact that Zelanski almost came his pants while you were doin’ it.” Jakes hummed deep in thought before tugging his shirt off in lightning speed, placing wet kisses down her abdomen.

Her shorts were pulled down along with her thong, discarded somewhere in the room, as his strong hands finally spread her thighs apart, “This is what I wanna taste, sweetheart.” Jakes smirks wickedly, licking his lips once before diving in.

Her back arches off of the bed, fingers tightening their hold on the sheets beneath her needing something to anchor herself to, “Shit, baby!” A broken gasp leaves her throat.

“Fuck— you taste so damn good.” Jakes grunts against her pussy, sucking her clit into his mouth eliciting a high pitched whine from her.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.” Her eyes screwed shut as he continued licking and sucking at her wet folds. His beard tickles the inside of her thighs, making her squirm even more.

“Nah— I’m not stopping, love, just getting started.” He growls, adding two fingers to the soaking mess between her legs. He curled them deliciously against the spot inside her that made her whole body tremble. She grinds her pussy onto his tongue, struggling to keep her hips still.

“Gonna cum? Hmm? Cum for me, baby.” He asserts, leaving her no choice but to cum all over his face and fingers. The pressure building in the pit of her stomach all too much for her as she finally lets go, body going stiff and then spasming for a moment against his hold on her.

Dale leans back with a content sigh, his beard and lips shiny in her sweet arousal, “Wanna fuck you. Turn.” He makes a show of pushing down his sweats just enough and taking hold of his erect cock.

She obeyed him, immediately rolling over and putting her ass on display for him, for the love of her life. She whimpers when she feels the pads of his rough fingers spread her pussy lips open, pushing her face into the matress to muffle her sounds. He gives her exactly what he wants, replacing his fingers with the tip of his swollen dick lubricating himself with her slick and pushing in slowly but surely.

“Lemme hear you—“ Dale uses his other hand to turn her head to the side, moving her hair out of her face as she panted hard adapting to the way he stretched her walls.

“Please, fuck me.”

That’s all it took for the agent to start moving at a relentless pace, thrusting in and out of her tight heat, “So tight— so perfect for me, love.” He praised her, leaning over her to place a kiss to the back of her shoulder as she lost herself to his rhythm.

He grunted when he felt her clench around him, the grip on her hips unforgiving, knowing there would definitely be bruises the next morning.

“Gonna think twice about teasing me like that again— fuck.” Jakes stills himself inside her for a moment, breath hitching when she starts grinding herself back onto him without his help.

“That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my dick, go ahead.” His lip between his teeth, nearly drawing blood from how hard he was biting it. She brought her own fingers underneath her, rubbing fast circles onto her aching clit.

“Baby— oh my god! Yes!” She whimpered, her pace slowing down once she felt herself start to reach her high. He was close behind, she could sense it in the way his own pace changed to slower deeper strokes.

“Oh fuck. Shit—“ He was panting, groaning quietly as he came inside of her, filling her full of his warm cum. With a hiss, he pulls out of her cunt, watching it clench around nothing.

She collapsed onto the bed a sticky, fucked out mess. Dale sunk down into the mattress next to her, pulling her body closer to his and kissing her feverishly, “My baby. Always so good to me.” He breathed out, drawing soft circles onto the skin of her hip.

She kisses his chest, bringing a hand up to scratch at his beard, “I really hope we weren’t too loud.” She bites her lip, holding back a smile. Before he could open his mouth to respond, a loud knock on the door startled them.

“Ayo, Chip n’ Dale! Ice cream truck’s outside— y’all want anythin’?” Johnny shouted, ending the question with a loud laugh.

She buried her face into his neck with a groan, “They’re never gonna let this one go, are they?”

“Not a chance.” Dale chuckled, pulling the covers over their bodies, ignoring the obnoxious laughter outside of the room.

[honeypiehotchner]

Covered Memories -- part 1

TW for mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, paranoia(?), sadness. Stay safe lovelies.

Here is the Sherlock I promised. It has a couple parts, so I’m going to let this one settle before I give you the next (I’m also editing it as I reread it haha). This was inspired by Billie Eilish’s song “listen before i go” but you don’t need to listen to it while reading or anything. Enjoy! Love you guys xx.

I went to sleep watching Sherlock and woke up on a bus in London.

           It sounds crazier than it actually is, I promise.

           Just kidding, it’s absolutely insane. I’m on a fucking bus in London and I’m from Ohio. I’m from the United States of fucking America, and I somehow woke up on a bus in England.

           I didn’t realize where I was at first, to be completely honest. I didn’t recognize it. The first dead giveaway was that the bus was driving on the wrong side of the road – well, the correct side here, but the wrong side to me completely.

           I’m still in my pajamas, and I’m a little more than thankful that last night I fell asleep in a hoodie and leggings. At least I’m not half naked on a bus in downtown London.

           Things could be a lot worse than they are, that’s for sure.

           But the situation I’m in also isn’t exactly okay. I don’t have my purse, my phone, or any damn shoes on my feet. I don’t even have my damn glasses, so walking around is going to be a little more than challenging, which is partly why I’ve stayed on this bus for longer than I should.

           Eventually, though, I figure I’ve been on here for long enough, so I decide to step down and onto the sidewalk.

           Okay, bad idea. Foreign city, foreign person, and I have no earthly idea where I’m at or where I should go.

           One piece at a time. Okay, I have no money, so a cab ride is out of the park. And so is…basically everything else.

           Okay.

           When one wakes up in London, what does one do – especially if one has never been to London before?

           I have no earthly idea.

           The only knowledge I have of London is from the show I fell asleep watching – Sherlock – and even then, it’s a TV show. It’s fiction.

           My eyes widen at the idea that just came into my head.

           I know, logically, that Sherlock Holmes does not exist. He’s a fictional character, but in knowing that, I know that the show itself is pretty popular. I know a lot about said show. And I know that Baker Street is actually a real place. There’s a museum there now, or something.

           Well, if I’m going to be stuck here, I might as well take advantage. I’ve always wanted to come to the museum, and since I’m here basically for free, I’m going to go see it.

           Strange that I’m not freaking out right now, I know. I don’t know why I’m not freaking out either. I don’t think it has sunk in just yet. It always takes me a good week to really process things, actually, but who knows what that’s about.

           Okay, Baker Street. I need to find my way to Baker Street.

           Because I have no other option, I walk up to the least scary looking woman on the sidewalk with me, tapping her shoulder. Thankfully, she looks to be around my age, so she doesn’t seem too alarmed by me tapping her.

           “Hi, you wouldn’t happen to know where the Sherlock Holmes museum is, would you?”

           She smiles, sort of knowingly and nods. “You’re lookin’ for Sherlock Holmes?”

           “Yes…” I nod slowly, not sure if she’s messing with me and is about to tell me to get lost, but she doesn’t.

           “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

           If she wasn’t also a female and young, then I would not have followed her, but she looks like she means well, and knows where she’s going, which is evident when I vaguely see the awning to the museum in the distance.

           “So, what’s up with you?”

           I blink, letting out a weak laugh. “What?”

           “Why do you need to see Sherlock Holmes?” She clarifies. “What’s your case?”

           Okay, now I’m not sure if she’s the one who knows Sherlock Holmes doesn’t exist. I don’t even know how to respond to her.

           “Oh, I’m not supposed to be here right now,” I shrug. “Just wondering if maybe he could…help me out.”

           “Sounds interesting,” she nods seriously. “Well, it’s just up there. I’ve gotta get to work. Nice meeting you.”

           “Yeah, you too…” I furrow my eyebrows, watching her cross the street.

           I shake my head, rubbing my face with my hands. This no longer feels as concerning as it feels strange. Especially after that interaction.

           I continue walking, continue feeling the concrete underneath my bare feet as I walk. I come up on the awning of the museum only to find it’s…it’s not the museum. It’s Speedy’s Café.

           But Speedy’s isn’t here. Speedy’s isn’t supposed to be on this street – They don’t actually film the show at the exact 221B Baker Street. They film it on North Gower Street, everyone knows that.

           I look up at the brick building, and sure enough, she led me to Baker Street, where the museum should be, but it’s Speedy’s.

           I shake my head again, walking past the building to find someone else. I cast a quick glance at the door next to it, doing a doubletake when I see the golden 221B on the outside.

           “This day is just getting weirder and weirder,” I sigh.

           I rub at my eyes, stepping closer to see if it’s my eyes just playing a trick on me, but it’s not. It really does say 221B on the outside. Complete with the knocker turned to the side like Sherlock keeps it.

           Okay, stop it. Sherlock Holmes is fictional. He keeps it that way in his fictional world. This is the real world, and yes, it’s short circuiting right now, it’s still reality.

           It’s short circuiting? Really? I just woke up on a bus halfway across the globe after going to sleep in my apartment, and the best answer my brain can come up with is that the world is short circuiting?

           Just for that, I’m going to ring the doorbell. Just once. If nothing happens, then I’ll go…find the police station, I don’t know.

           Without giving it a single second thought, I step up, and briefly press the doorbell.

           Nothing happens. Literally, nothing. Which gives me the impression that this is the flat they film in, and that it’s just made to look like it really is Baker Street, even though everyone knows it’s just North Gower.

           I scoff to myself, feeling silly for even entertaining the idea, turning around to walk the other way. It’s when I turn my back that I hear the sound of the door opening, followed by an all too familiar voice.

           “Ma’am, wait!”

           I freeze. Absolutely not. There’s no absolute way that could be him.

           I take a deep breath, slowly turning myself back around, coming face to face with the man I’ve only ever seen on my laptop or phone screen.

           John Watson.

           No…it’s not. It’s Martin Freeman, come on, John Watson doesn’t actually exist. He’s a fictional character.

           “Would you like to come in?” He asks, stepping back and gesturing inside.

           My legs move before I tell them to, walking me inside the flat. I wait until John closes the door, before I turn back around to look at him.

           I probably look more than startled because he returns the expression, furrowing his eyebrows.

           “Are you alright?”

           “…no.”

           “Alright, well, come upstairs. I’ll get Mrs. Hudson to make you a cuppa.”

           I let him guide me up the stairs, checking on me every few steps to make sure I haven’t fainted, I’m sure. I’m not feeling faint, but I know I must look white as a sheet.

           This is just wrong. And not real. I’m dreaming. Surely, this is just a dream.

           “Mrs. Hudson, would you make…”

           He looks to me for my name, so I answer him. “Liz.”

           “Liz here a cuppa, please?”

           Mrs. Hudson – yes, the Mrs. Hudson I’ve seen in the show, Una Stubbs – nods, frowning. “Of course, dear. Are you alright? You look a little spooked.”

           “Yeah…I’m…I’m spooked,” I let out a breathy chuckle.

I glance around the apartment – flat, they’re flats here – with wide eyes. Everything is the same. The yellow smiley face ridden with bullet holes is on the wall above the couch. The messy coffee table that Sherlock always steps over is in front of the couch. The wall itself has various pictures and things pinned up, but I can’t see them clearly enough to know if it’s anything I’d recognize.

“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Hudson hands me a cup of steaming tea. “Drink that and it should make you feel better.”

“Thanks, Mrs. H.”

John freezes, staring at me with wide eyes. “Mrs. H?”

“I’m sorry, force of habit,” I grimace. I’m ruining this already.

“Habit? Do you know Mrs. Hudson?”

“No, I—” I sigh. “It’s not a long story, but it’s really complicated, and I’m still trying to process everything right now and— Oh my God.”

The grip on my tea loosens completely, the cup falling from my hands and shattering at my feet. Standing before me is the man I’ve watched on a screen for years. Sherlock Holmes.

He finishes buttoning his blazer, raising an eyebrow. “Client?”

John answers, whilst cleaning up the broken shards of the teacup. “Yeah, I think. She said it’s complicated.” He stands, tossing them into the trashcan that Mrs. Hudson brought over before taking the towel from her to soak up the tea.

“It always is,” Sherlock dismisses John’s answer, holding his hand out to you. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“I know,” I blurt, immediately smacking myself in the forehead. I take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “I mean, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Liz. Liz Singleton.”

“Singleton,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes. “I know that name.”

“You do?”

“Yes…I’m not sure from where. Well, it’ll come to me soon enough.” He walks around me, pulling the chair out from under the table and sitting it in the middle of the floor. “Have a seat, Miss Singleton and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“I want to stand, actually,” I say, the past moments’ events coming back to me. “I’m sorry about the cup, Mrs. H. I’m having delayed reactions to things.”

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got plenty others. Sherlock has a bad habit of breaking them.”

I smile softly, turning back to Sherlock, only to find him staring me down. Deducing me, most likely, so I brace myself for the onslaught of accusations and truths I’m not aware of.

“Why do you speak to Mrs. Hudson with such familiarity?”

I pause, nodding slowly. “That’s part of my story.”

Sherlock sighs tiredly. “Go on, then.” He stays standing as well, continuing to look me over while John sits down in his chair.

“I’m not from here.”

“Yes, I gathered that from your alarming American accent.”

Ignoring the ‘alarming’ adjective, I continue. “I’m from Ohio. The state in the U.S. Thing is, I went to sleep there last night. But I woke up about an hour ago on a bus in downtown London.” My heart is pounding in my chest, the severity of what’s happening finally settling in now that I’ve said it aloud. “Any ideas, Mr. Holmes?”

“A few,” he mutters. “Those are clearly pajamas and judging by your lack of shoes, the sleeping bit does make sense.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “What were you doing last night?”

“That’s,” I pause to chuckle. “That’s the kicker, really, because I was watching you.”

His arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry?”

“There’s a show, on BBC, it’s called Sherlock. It’s about you and John and Mrs. Hudson,” I swallow thickly. “And Molly, and Lestrade, and Mary.”

“Mary? Who’s Mary?”

“No one,” I cover quickly, not entirely sure what I’ve done, but I know it isn’t good. It sounds ridiculous, but I must be in the world before he met Mary, so before…before the Reichenbach. “Just a random person. But my point is, it’s a TV show. I was watching it when I fell asleep last night, and I woke up on a bus here, in London. And now I’m talking to you. And you’re not supposed to exist – none of you are. You’re fictional characters. I thought when I first got here that it was a little weird, but I was coming here to see the museum. There’s supposed to be a Sherlock Holmes museum here, not this flat. This flat isn’t supposed to exist – none of it is.”

I turn in a circle, looking at everything I’ve seen over the years. I used to dream about visiting this flat – visiting the set and sitting down in John’s chair or grazing my fingers over the smiley face on the wall, but now I’m here and I don’t even want to be. Now I’m here, and this is the worst nightmare I could ever imagine.

I stop, pointing at John, my mind spinning. “You. Your name isn’t John Watson, it’s supposed to be Martin Freeman. And you,” I point at Sherlock. “Your name isn’t Sherlock Holmes, it’s supposed to be Benedict Cumberbatch.”

           John laughs loudly. “What kind of a name is that?”

           “You played Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit,” I tell John—Martin. He’s Martin. “And Ian McKelpie in Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. And you,” I turn back around to Benedict. “You played Khan in Star Trek. And Alan Turing in The Imitation Game. You guys are actors.” I cover my face with my hands. “This is one weird dream. I need to wake up.” I open my eyes, looking dead at Benedict. “Punch me.”

           “I’m sorry?”

           “Punch me. Right now. Knock me out in here, so it’ll wake me up back home.”

           “I’m not going to punch you, Miss Singleton.” He pauses. “Because I think I know what’s going on here.”

           John looks as surprised as I am. “You’re serious?”

           “Yes, John, I’m quite serious,” Sherlock tucks his hands behind him. “I’m at the height of my fame. You know that because we’ve been in the papers almost every day for the last month.”

           “No idea where you’re going with this, Sherlock.”

           “Oh, come on, open your eyes,” Sherlock cries. “Look at her outfit, look at her eyes. She’s an addict, clearly still high, and one of her delusions is that there’s a TV show starring the both of us. The TV show is incredibly popular, I’m assuming, which falls into the current pattern of my own popularity.” He turns to me. “I suggest you find your own way back home.”

           “What—”

           “Leave,” he points to the door. “I don’t have time to solve the delusions of an addict when there are more pressing issues on my mind.”

           I stare at him, thinking maybe he’s kidding with me, but it’s clear on his face that he’s not. I look to John and he doesn’t say anything. Why would he? They don’t know who I am here. I’m not supposed to be here.

           “Fine,” I mutter. “Sorry for bothering you.”

           I turn and exit the flat, stepping slowly down the stairs. I let myself focus on how the wood feels beneath my bare feet, something I was too dazed to feel when I first walked up. Now I’m feeling entirely too many emotions all at once and the stairs don’t feel magical beneath my feet, they just hurt. Like a million splinters being stabbed into my skin all at once. It’s not a dream like I wanted it to be. This is a literal nightmare.

           I stop at the bottom, letting my hand linger on the railing for just a moment longer. This is the first and last time I’ll ever be in 221B Baker Street and it couldn’t have gone any further from how I wanted.

           “Wait!”

           I ignore the voice – it’s John, but why does he care? – and pull open the front door, slamming it as I step out onto the sidewalk. I barely get past Speedy’s when I feel an arm on my shoulder, turning me around, making me face John Watson – stupid John Watson—

           “What do you want?”

           He removes his hand rather quickly, holding both up in surrender. “Hey, sorry.”

           I cross my arms over my chest. “What?”

           He hesitates, gathering his words. “Is what you said—Is it true? Is there a TV show about us?”

           I roll my eyes. “I’m not having this conversation right now.” I turn around, walking down the sidewalk, and much to my dissatisfaction, John follows beside me.

           “I just… I know what an addict looks like, and you’re not one. You looked too scared when I opened the door earlier and you walked around the flat like you’ve been there before—”

           “You know what?” I stop walking, turning to face him. “The show – You two idiots have gotten me through the roughest points of my life, alright? I’ve watched the show over and over until I could speak Sherlock’s dialogue in perfect timing, I’ve paused scenes to examine the background, I’ve even paused scenes to try to deduce things that Sherlock doesn’t to see what piece of the puzzle he doesn’t explain. So yes, I walked in there like I’d been there before, because I feel like I have. I used to want to live in this world more than my own, but that was a mistake because now that I am here – I don’t even want to be. I just want to go home. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw myself off a building and hope I wake up back in my bed. In my home. Because this doesn’t feel like home anymore. And I was so stupid to think it could’ve been.”

           John’s frown deepens the more that I speak, and part of me thinks I see tears in his eyes when I finish. But it doesn’t matter what I see because this isn’t real, and it never is going to be.

           “Good night, Dr. Watson,” I breathe, blinking and realizing the tears I see are actually in my own eyes. I sniffle, pressure rising in my chest as I try to hold back a sob. And I can’t cry about this in front of him, so I turn and leave, biting my sleeve to keep myself under control until I turn the corner, collapsing against the building in a fit of sobs that wrack my body.

           This is the biggest mess I’ve ever been in. If this is some trick the universe is trying to play on me to tell me that I had it good back home, despite the shit I went through, then that’s fine. I get it, Universe. Lesson learned. Take me back home now, please.

[saiilorstars]

It Had To Be You

Ch. 5: Caught Up In You // Story Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x Original Female Character

Summary:  Belén suspects someone is stalking her but even when Barry and the rest at STAR Labs do their best to figure who it is, they’re not fast enough. 

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

No real warnings for now!

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

“Belén, sweetheart?” David Palayta’s voice rang from the living room. Belén, who was sitting at the kitchen table working (or trying to at the very least) on some homework, looked up from her laptop just as her father walked into the room. “I’m going to be working probably all night again. Will you be alright?”

“Yes, Dad, don’t worry,” Belén smiled as she received a kiss over her head. “I’ve got tons of work to do myself.”

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re still doing homework?” David stopped by the counter and grabbed a glass, moving to fill it with water.

“Have I mentioned my hate for biology?” Belén rested her cheek on her hand. “It’s completely useless!”

David gave her a sideways glance, clearly taking offense to the statement. Belén shyly smiled and straightened in her chair. “You know, your new friends would be highly upset with that.”

“Iris knows and she agrees. Caitlin already knows I hate this stupid subject,” Belén began listing off with her fingers, “And then Cisco lets me basically say whatever the hell I want just as long as I listen to his jokes.”

“And what about Barry?”

“Well…he does forensics…that has to do with biology?” Belén genuinely blinked in surprise at the new piece of information. “I just thought he was super smart.”

“Oh Annah-Belén, where did I go wrong with you?” David walked back to the table, pressing another kiss to his daughter’s head.

“Absolutely nowhere,” Belén looked up with a wide grin. “It’s just not my thing, Dad. I like to write and dance, and…biology is stupid.”

“You need to get yourself a tutor,” David pointed, heading for the doors but stopping to get his jacket from the hangar.

“And drag some poor innocent soul into this?” Belén sarcastically laughed. “I’m not evil, Dad.”

“No, but you will fail and then you’ll have a villainous father to deal with,” David warned and opened the door. “So study hard. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Belén waved and watched her father walk out the place. She waited until she heard the car start and drive off before standing up. “I’ll work hard alright…” she closed her laptop and and began gathering her books, “…I’ll work hard to see the Streak tonight on time,” she smirked to herself and hurried off to get a quick change of clothes.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

One hour later, she and the Streak were in their lonesome park discussing Rayan’s case. Barry was in the middle of sharing a new piece of information he’d learned that day when he realized that Belén was staring at him for no reason.

“Bells?” his modulated voice unexpectedly pulled her out from her trance-like state.

Belén rapidly blinked and felt her face warm up from embarrassment. “I’m…I’m so sorry, what was that?”

She hadn’t planned on spacing out. There were just times when she tried focusing really hard on his face in order to attempt to find out his true identity. But there were other times when she just found him incredibly…attractive… and she thought that was ridiculous because most of the time when they were close he would purposely hide his face with that speedy trick that blurred his features. She supposed it was just one of those fan crushes someone would get on their favorite superhero. Who wouldn’t get them? Half the students in her college had one on the Red Streak.

“I told you that I went looking through your brother’s history of the day he went missing and I saw he was nearby a crime scene.”

“Crime scene? What kind?”

“It was a robbery,” Barry explained, handing her a manila folder full of the crime information. “The band of thieves are notorious for their work with weapons. Their last robbery was just minutes before your brother went missing.”

“Are you saying…” Belén checked a couple of profiles of each of the thieves, “…are you saying they have something to do with Rayan? Like…they took him?”

“It’s just a supposition,” Barry clarified, but it was enough to fill Belén’s eyes with newfound joy. “I mean, in your brother’s car accident the only thing they found his belongings but not him. Even the driver of the other car wasn’t there.”

“So it could have been a set up from those thieves?” Belén concluded. “Oh my God, this is a breakthrough!”

“It’s nothing concrete,” Barry reiterated. As much as he wanted to give her good news, he needed to make sure that Belén understood nothing was set in stone. They could always get things wrong.

Belén nodded, stuffing the folder into her bag. “Thank you so much. I know I keep repeating myself every time we meet but you really have no idea what this means to me.”

Barry chuckled, affirming her statement. “And like always, I say you’re welcome and that it’s my job.”

“But it’s not your job,” Belén softly said. “You came out of nowhere and you decided that it was your duty to fight for this city. And help unimportant people like me with their personal problems?”

“Now who said you were unimportant?” if Barry’s face had been clear, Belén would’ve been witness to the deep scowl running across his lips.

“I’m just a college girl,” Belén said, embarrassed. “What makes me so special?”

“What doesn’t make you so special?” countered Barry with a highly amused tone. “I like you, Bells. But you have got to stop belittling yourself.”

Belén smiled. “I will try.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Belén raised a hand. “Now, could you give me a lift back home? I couldn’t risk taking my brother’s car because our neighbor, Mrs. Andrews, has a tendency to ‘keep an eye on me’ on behalf of my Dad.”

“C'mon,” Barry motioned he would be picking her up again. She allowed him to take hold of her and speed off towards her home.

He went straight to her backyard, through the side gate, and placed her down beside the big tree. Belén fixed her messy hair and straightened the rest of her clothes. The wind of the speed always messed her appearance up.

“Thanks,” she said once she felt presentable again. “As always.”

“You’re welcome - as always,” Barry said, backtracking from her enough to where he felt confident to show his face without blurring it.

Belén had grown accustomed to the trick, and while she wasn’t happy with it she let it be for the sake of them having another minute together. “I know it’s silly to ask but is there anyone waiting for you at home? I mean, if I had a son that was out at this hour I’d be pretty anxious.”

If the darkness hadn’t covered most of him, Belén would’ve seen his sad smile. “I live alone, so…I do as I please.”

Belén chuckled and passed a hand through her hair. “Right. But, I mean…there’s no, uh, no…no…girlfriend waiting for you?” she felt completely intrusive asking but her mind wouldn’t let her rest.

“What?” Barry nervously laughed. “N-no! No…not…no!”

The exchange of awkward laughter filled the air, and had both blushing. Eventually, they calmed and Belén glanced at her kitchen hidden behind the swinging curtains.

“I should go inside. Thanks,” she glanced towards Barry, wishing he would just step out of the darkness to see who he was behind that mask.

“Until next time, Belén,” Barry waved and sped off.

Belén momentarily closed her eyes from the wind Barry left behind. She took a deep breath and went inside, hoping to do some research…or homework…which one happened to be easiest.

~ 0 ~

It turns out, neither had been easier for Belén. Three days later, Belén heavily sighed as she stepped out of her biology classroom. Her eyes were glued to the ugly red 'F’ marked at the top of recent quiz.

“Unbelievable,” she cursed herself and stormed down the hallway. If this continued then she would, without a doubt, fail the class.

She abruptly stopped when she felt eyes burning on the back of her head. Turning her head slightly to the right, she scanned her immediate surroundings for any lingering stares. It was a tough decision whether to be disappointed she saw no one staring or relieved that no one was staring.

Slowly, she began to walk again. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

For the past weeks, it had just clung to her.

~ 0 ~

“You’re not being smart, that’s all I’m saying,” Cisco flapped a hand as if to emphasize his words more to Barry. They made a turn for the cortex room. “Sooner or later Belén will figure it out and bam! there will be trouble.”

“I’m just helping,” Barry grew tired of repeating himself to everyone. Could no one understand it was just his way of repaying Belén for all that she’d done for him while he was in his coma?

“No, you’re getting closer to her,” Cisco inclined his head, that little smirk making Barry turn away as if he were choosing to look at his suit across. “And sooner or later, it’s going to blow up in your face. Now, I like Belén, and I like Barry, and I definitely wouldn’t want Belén and Barry to be upset with each other.”

Barry shook his head and turned to his friend, leaning on the ledge of the computer desk. “It’s not gonna happen.”

“Oh yeah?” Cisco arched an eyebrow as he plopped down on the computer chair. “How do you know?”

“Because she’s never gonna find out that I’m the 'Red Streak’.”

And soon as those words were spoken, they heard Belén’s voice from the corridor. “Hello!?”

Barry’s eyes widened in moment terror while Cisco leaned back on his chair and enjoyed the view. In a second Barry had sped around the desk and pressed a button that shielded his suit behind a hidden compartment in the wall.

“Still can’t believe you made me install that,” Cisco muttered to Barry as the meta human took a seat beside him. “And just so that Bells could keep coming in here!”

“Shut up!” was all Barry said in regards to the matter.

Both men exchanged looks when Belén finally came in. “Guys…” her nervous voice pulled them out of their playful bickering. She looked completely pale and scared.

Minutes later, they had her sitting down in one of their chairs by the desk and listened to her apparent problem.

“I think someone’s following me. Whenever I’m walking on a street, or even at school, I feel someone is staring at me.”

“Well, maybe they think you’re cute,” Cisco shrugged casually, earning Belén’s graceful smile.

“Thanks Cisco,” she said sheepishly, knowing he was just trying to make her feel less afraid. “But I think this is more than just a crush. There’s this coffee shop I always go to in my campus, and when I felt the stares again, I decided to get smart.”

“What did you do?” Barry inquired, heavily interested on who was giving her trouble.

“One of the baristas is cousin to a friend of mine. I asked him if he could take a look around for me and see if there was someone looking at me weirdly.”

“And…?”

Belén’s eyes watered up fast, her lips pursing together. “There was this guy in a hoodie and…apparently, he only shows up on the days I have classes. He's following me!”

“Woah, hey,” Cisco crouched beside her chair and side hugged her. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Seeing Belén nearly crying stirred a new feeling inside Barry, and he acted on it without a second thought. He reached for her hand, a fierce look on his face. “No one is going to hurt you, Bells. We’ll go to police station and have someone look into it.”

“But what am I going to say to them?” Belén laughed bitterly. “That some guy in a hoodie was following me? I don’t know what he looks like, Barry.”

“But the coffee shop has to have security cameras,” Cisco quickly supplied, getting an agreeing nod from Barry. “That’s a great start. And if he was at school then those cameras had to capture him too.”

Barry gently pulled Belén up to her feet. “I can’t go to the station right now, though,” Belén informed. “I have to go to Jitters. I got myself a biology tutor online and we’re supposed to meet today.”

“I’m taking you myself, then,” Barry volunteered and had a look that said he wouldn’t change his mind.

Belén admitted it did make her feel safer so she didn’t put in a word of refusal either. Instead, she turned to Cisco and gave him a hug goodbye.

Cisco kissed her head and smiled when he pulled back. “We’ll figure it out, Bells, you’ll see.”

“Okay,” Belén said, but there was barely a true belief in it. She allowed Barry to tug her out of the room afterwards.

~ 0 ~

Waiting for Belén’s tutor turned out to be a longer waiting task than either Belén or Barry anticipated. In the beginning, Iris had come by to offer them coffee but both had refused on account of Barry having to leave soon and Belén meeting the tutor. After thirty minutes passed by, Barry caved and went to the counter to order them coffee.

“What exactly are you doing?” Iris inquired curiously after setting two mugs of coffee on the counter. Usually, she would’ve teased they were on a date or something but seeing the look on Belén’s face told her something quite different was up. “You’ve been here for thirty minutes and you’ve just…sat…?”

Barry was taking out a twenty from his wallet and briefly glanced over his shoulder to Belén. The ombre-blonde woman was sitting silently with a blank expression, her biology book shut on the side of the table. “She’s just going through some stuff,” Barry left it at that and handed Iris the twenty.

“What kind of stuff?” Iris arched an eyebrow, moving to the cash register. “Her mom left and even with her brother’s case closed she never had that look on her face. Barry, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Barry shrugged, trying to act like usual. “She doesn’t say much-”

“And that’s a big red flag,” Iris interjected, handing him back his change. “Belén the motor mouth, do you remember?” she inclined her head, hoping her serious look would guilt Barry into telling her.

“I don’t know, Iris,” Barry raised his hands in surrender then grabbed both mugs and left before Iris could continue. It wasn’t like he liked lying to Iris but this was actually not something for him to say. Only Belén could decide who she told and he would respect that.

Belén lightly flinched with the clank noise the mug gave when Barry placed in front of her. She raised her eyes and met a smiling Barry. “I didn’t know exactly what you wanted so I went with a latte?” Barry sat down across her.

Belén mumbled a 'thank you’ and took the mug. “You don’t have to be here, Barry,” she said before taking a small sip.

“It makes you feel better,” Barry said quite confidently then realized how it came out and sputtered out an apology. “N-n-not that…I m-mean not-t…not like…you know…like, uh…”

Belén watched him struggle to say a complete sentence and eventually had to smile just a little. “That made me feel better.”

Barry flushed with embarrassment and opted for a long drink of coffee. And when his throat burned from the hot liquid, he put a hand on his lap and balled it up to keep a loud yelp inside. He was acting like a dork, and not the cute dork that Iris always told him he could be, but a proper idiot dork. He always ended up doing this kind of stuff around Belén and he would like to file a complaint with his mind for it.

“You really don’t have to be here, though,” Belén repeated herself, unknowingly pulling Barry out of his thoughts. She put her mug down and sighed. “I’m in a public place. If the guy wanted to do something he would wait until I was somewhere completely secluded.”

“I don’t care, I’m staying until your tutor arrives.” Barry checked his watch and saw the time had changed into forty minutes of tardiness from this tutor. “Though with the time…”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Belén admitted, stumped on her unprofessional tutor’s absence.

“Where’d you even get the tutor from?” Barry asked.

“There was this ad slipped into my tennis locker at school today and I just called the number.”

Red alarm, thought Barry.

“H-how do you mean 'an ad’?” Barry leaned forwards on the table.

“There’s always people looking to make an extra buck around the school, Barry. Our tennis lockers are always full of different ads - cheaper textbooks, supplies, tutors. I got it yesterday and since I failed my test today I figured why not.”

“And who answered the call? Did he give you a clear identification?”

“It was a guy, said his name was Alonso. He’s a biology major but no, I didn’t get all his ID stuff. It’s just a tutor and it’s from school.”

Barry thought about his next words really carefully, wanting to save her from another episode of nervousness. And then he realized: why tell her? Clearly, she hadn’t realized this ad was a fake and that it had been a nasty trick by whomever was following her. She was just barely making it.

Instead, he had come up with a better solution.

“Okay, clearly the guy’s not coming-”

“Clearly,” Belén shook her head.

“But that’s okay,” Barry went on, broadly smiling. “If you want some extra help with this class, I can do it.”

“I had considered that before,” Belén glanced at her textbook. “Actually, my Dad was the one to point out that I do have some very smart friends. After I failed the test I considered asking Caitlin first…”

“I can do it,” Barry insisted. “I’m definitely more fun.” That last one made her chuckle and made Barry much happier. “I can definitely do it, Bells.”

“I mean…” Belén began, closer to agreeing, “…I suppose it would be easier and much more comfortable with someone I already know. How much do you want?”

“What?” Barry laughed.

“Your fee - how much do you want?”

“Bells,” Barry continued laughing and unintentionally made her think she’d said something wrong.

“I’m…sorry?”

“Belén, I’m your friend, I want to help you not charge!”

Belén blinked. “But…but you can’t just do it for free. You have things to do, you might as well get something in return.”

“You want me to charge you?”

“Yes!”

Barry swayed his head and thought for a minute. “You want a fee? Here’s the fee: if you get a B on your next exam you owe me a cup of coffee.”

“And what if I get an A?” Belén challenged.

“Then you owe me a good drink.”

Belén chuckled and nodded her head in agreement. “Alright. I’ll take that deal.”

“Great!” Barry couldn’t show his full relief at this news and settled for getting up from his chair and going to her side just to hug her.

“You’re that happy because you get to tutor me?” Belén yanked away and looked up at him with a face of confusion yet amusement. “You do realize what you just got yourself into, right?”

“C'mon, we can get started right now if you’d like.”

“I thought you said we should go to the station for my little problem remember?” Belén sighed. “Since my tutor is a no-show I guess we can do that.”

“Right,” Barry nodded and helped her out of her seat. “Let’s go do that and then we can go wherever you want to study.”

Belén agreed and grabbed her things to leave. As the two left Jitters they didn’t notice the man in a gray hoodie following them from across the street. His eyes were trained on the ombre-blonde, eyes briefly flickering to Barry.

~ 0 ~

Cisco hurried into the cortex room with a mug in hand, nearly spilling its contents as he fumbled to pick up his cellphone left behind on the desk. “Yello!?”

“Cisco,” came Barry’s voice on the other line, “I need a favor.”

“What is it?” Cisco sat down on a chair and pulled his feet up to the desk.

“See if you can tap into Belén’s college campus - especially the coffee place - and try get anything on that hoodie guy.”

The request surprised Cisco but he couldn’t himself denying a favor that would benefit Belén. “Okay…” he said slowly, straightening up on his chair. “I thought you were taking her to the station-”

“Yeah, we’re here and Belén is talking to Joe. But listen, this is personal. I want to find this guy myself.”

“The Red Streak is on the case,” Cisco smirked, already on board without proper asking. “I like it.”

“So can you do it? I’ll send you anything else Belén leaves with Joe.”

“Of course, leave it to me!” Cisco hung up, put his phone down and cracked his fingers to get to work.

~ 0 ~

There was an incessant knocking on an apartment door, and soon enough came the owner of said apartment, mad as hell. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” the petite blonde stalked up to the door and opened it up. “What the hell do you - HEY!”

Plasticine strode into the apartment without so much of a care for the blonde. “Rayan? RAYAN!” she called.

“Hey! You want to shout a little louder? I don’t think the next block hear yah!” the blonde snapped behind Plasticine, shutting the door.

Plasticine paid her no attention. “Rayan! Come out! You said to be here!”

Rayan emerged from the hallway with a laptop in his arms. “Maritza, do we really have to come here all dressed up? It’s not like Angie doesn’t already know who you are.”

Maritza pulled her mask off her face and threw a glare at Angie. “Well, if we’re on the topic of collecting teammates - I found a new one.”

“Really?” Rayan mused at the idea. “Who is it?”

“A young man, about your age and…this one here,” Rayan gestured to Angie. “Has some trouble with Harrison Wells & STAR Labs. I figured he might have pretty good motivation.”

“Where is he?”

“Right at home where I told him I’d get him if you wanted.”

“We’ll talk about it later, then. Right now, I want you to take care of something. It’s about our sister - she’s been looking for me.”

Maritza made a face, clearly taken aback. “What? N-no, Belén is moving on from your 'death’ and-”

Angie snorted and walked over. “Unlikely considering we tracked the searches to her IP address. I didn’t take your sister to be Sherlock Holmes.”

“No, this has to be a mistake,” Maritza rubbed her temples.

“It's not,” Rayan declared, putting down the laptop on the coffee table. “And we both know that we can’t have Belén looking into my case anymore.”

“So then what do we do?”

Angie smirked. “Well I proposed we give your baby sis a little scare.”

Maritza dropped her hands from her face, letting her mask fall in the process. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing serious,” Angie waved her off. “Just a little warning to make sure she stops. If she’s got no powers then we wouldn’t even have to do much to scare the living crap out of her.”

Maritza glanced at Rayan to see what he thought. The younger man gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I love my sister, but she needs to be stopped. You just can’t hurt her, that’s all.”

“Me? You want me to go and face our sister? Are you serious?”

“You’d be wearing a mask,” Rayan pointed out. “Plus, you can take Angie with you.”

“I can do it on my own if you’d like,” Angie offered kindly, but Maritza would rather die than let her sister face off some woman who could probably care less.

“You have to take her laptop and everything,” Rayan told them both. “We can let her go back to searching.”

“I can take things from the house no problem,” Maritza agreed.

“Then I can take Belén,” Angie raised a finger.

“You’ll be going with who I have trusted with our secret,” Maritza corrected, glancing to Rayan. “The new recruit? I do trust him.”

“Fine. Then get to it,” Rayan said. “Plan it well.”

~ 0 ~

Some time later, Belén and Barry relocated to Belén’s home to begin on that tutoring. Without fully realizing it, Barry had gotten Belén to forget about ever visiting the police station and making that report on her stalker. However, it wasn’t because of a good reason.

“So the process of replication is basically when DNA makes a copy itself - it’s like the basic point for inheritance. When replication happens, the strands separate and then each of them serve as templates for the production of its counterpart. That’s known as semi-conservative replication. Afterwards Cellular proofreading happens which is just like an error-checking process to make sure everything was replicated perfectly.”

Belén had an arm resting on the edge of her kitchen table, her cheek placed on her palm. Her eyes were blinking rapidly while Barry explained. “No, sorry, I lost you when you started speaking Chinese.”

“I wasn’t speaking Chinese…” Barry said slowly, figuring perhaps he has entered a rapid rambling state.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Belén straightened up.

“O-okay, tell me where you got lost?”

“Easy-” Belén gave a nod, “-as soon as your mouth opened up.”

Barry sent an unamused look at her. “Bells…”

“I’m sorry! I’m just stupid at this science stuff, okay?” Belén laughed to herself and glanced at her open biology textbook. “I mean, replication? Transcription? What the hell is all this stuff?”

“Very important stuff,” Barry assured her.

“It's boring stuff,” Belén countered. “Talk to me about journalism stuff. The words, the people, me being out there, that’s important. Or about dancing steps. Not this crummy stuff I won’t ever use.”

Before Barry could prove this was all truly important, the front door opened and Belén’s father walked in. “Belén?”

“Over here, Dad,” Belén waved her hand as she skimmed another page of this replication stuff.

“What’s going on here?” David eyed the table full of school work on his way to the fridge.

“I got myself a tutor,” Belén gestured to Barry beside her.

“Well it was about time,” David walked back to them with a bottle of Gatorade in hand. “Barry, was it?”

“Yes,” Barry rose up from his chair to shake hands with the man. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, how’s she doing?”

“Umm…” the look on Barry’s face said it all.

“Belén, pay attention,” her father scolded her like she was doing it all on purpose.

“What!? Seriously!? I don’t plan this you know!” she groaned. “I’m actually trying my best but this is all completely ridiculous with all these terms and different processes and crazy pictures and-”

“Stop rambling and listen,” David smiled and looked at Barry almost sympathetically. “Good luck, Barry.”

“Dad!” Belén called after him, mortified at such a lack of belief in her. Barry was laughing beside her and instigated a very offended “Quit laughing at me!” from her.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Barry tried sobering up fast and scooted his chair closer to hers, “Let’s try this again, alright?” Belén nodded and did her best to pay attention.

But then a cellphone went off.

“Sorry,” Barry made a face as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. “It’s Joe,” he said right before answering.

Belén smiled and got up to give them some privacy. She went for the kitchen intending on finding a snack somewhere. Between her schoolwork and research, she hadn’t paid much attention to the house needs.

“Bells, I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Barry apologized and stood up. “There’s been a robbery and…”

“It’s alright,” Belén waved it off and turned around. “We can continue tomorrow if you’d like - or can.”

“Definitely,” Barry said quickly.

Belén’s smile faltered when everything spun in front of her.

“Bells!” Barry ran over to her just as she slumped forwards, catching her. “What is it? What’s wrong!?”

Belén cursed her body’s imprudence and tried to get through the moment as fast as possible. “I’m-I’m fine…” she swallowed hard.

She was not fine.

Barry leaned her against the counter and rushed to get her a glass of water. “Don’t lie to me, Belén. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, remember?”

Belén took the glass from him and drank a little. “And during that time I was having trouble with my classes…remember? It’s just burn out, nothing more.” Barry didn’t look the least bit convinced. “Don’t you have a case to go to?” Belén asked impatiently, putting down her glass on the counter.

Barry only left the conversation because Joe really was waiting for him to arrive and take samples from the crime scene. “Please, just…get some rest?”

“I can do that,” Belén nodded calmly, the light smile on her lips would’ve convinced anyone who didn’t know her. But, Barry knew her much more than she thought.

The moment he was out on the street, he dialed a number on his phone.

“Hello?” Iris chirped.

“Iris, I need a favor,” Barry wondered just how many times he was going to use that line on behalf of Belén…but that was going to be for another moment.

“Sure, what do you need?”

Barry glanced back at Belén’s house, and explained to Iris.

~ 0 ~

That same night, much later, Belén was pulled out of her research when someone knocked on the door - and much too excitedly she added silently.

“Hiiii!” Iris exclaimed happily, waving a hand while the other held a duffel bag.

Belén made a face. “Iris? What are you doing here?”

“I’m sleeping over - random girls’ night!”

“Wh-what?” Belén barely got to say when Iris walked right in.

“Hello, Mr. Palayta,” Iris greeted Belén’s father from the kitchen.

“Hi Iris,” David gave a warm smile in return. “What brings you here?”

“There’s just sooo many things I want to talk about with Bells and I figured since my Dad is working late with Eddie I could maybe sleep over?” Iris put her hands together with that wide smile that no one could resist.

David just chuckled and gave his approving nod. “You’re always welcomed here, Iris.”

“Oh, thank you!” Iris cheered and turned back for Belén who was still registering the fact she had a new guest and thus her ongoing research would be put on hold. “C'mon, Bells!” She grabbed her duffel bag and took her friend upstairs.

Though Belén was mildly upset with Iris’ surprise visit, she soon left the idea of sending her back home using a lame excuse. The truth was she missed normal friendship sleepovers. Everything as of late had become so entangled Belén barely had time to breath.

Iris was a reminder that she was indeed normal, and that she deserved more normal moments.

Like painting each other’s nails.

“Iris, I don’t want that color,” Belén was scrunching her face at the pastel turquoise nail polish Iris was opening up.

“It goes great with you,” was Iris’ main defense as she set down the nail polish on Belén’s nightstand and shuffled on the bed to begin.

“Oh, Iris,” Belén sighed but gave in without another word. She let Iris take her right hand and watched her delicately paint over her thumb’s nail.

“Soo…you want to explain why Barry all of a sudden didn’t want to leave your side today?” Iris discreetly raised her eyes up to her friend, who was already looking nervous.

She was no fool, even if Barry didn’t tell her why he wanted - no, sorry, why he believed it would be a good idea for her to stay at Belén’s for a night, Iris knew it had something to do with whatever was bothering Belén earlier at Jitters.

“Iris…” Belén sighed, looking to the side.

“Bells,” Iris gently tugged her wrist and forced them to look at each other, “You and I are good friends, right?”

“Like best friends,” Belén clarified quietly.

“And best friends always tell each other what’s going on. Please, have some trust in me.”

Belén released a low sigh and nodded her head. “Okay, but you can’t tell my Dad under any circumstances.”

“Promise,” Iris raised a hand then went back to painting Belén’s nails.

“Someone’s been following me for some time now, and I told Barry and Cisco about it.”

“Why them?” Iris made a face then silently thought about it. Since Belén and Cisco nearly dated they had formed a strong bond that had Cisco like a male best friend. Iris could see why Belén would go to him. And Barry? Well…Barry just had one of those traits that made one immediately trust him.

“I needed to tell someone,” Belén went on without knowledge of Iris’ inner thoughts. “I went into STAR Labs and they were there. My mouth started before I could even realize.”

“Please tell me you’ve gone to the police about this already?”

“Yeah, Barry took me this afternoon and I talked to your Dad. I practically begged him not to say anything to my father - hooray for being a legal adult,” Belén made a languid gesture before sighing again. “I’m scared, Iris. I’ve never been in a situation like this and…I don’t know how to forget the fact that some creeper is following me.”

Iris now understood perfectly why she was here. She finished Belén’s right hand and began painting the pinkie finger of her left hand. “Well, you won’t be left alone that’s for sure. If I’m not with you, then Barry will be, or Cisco, or Caitlin. You won’t be alone.”

Belén suspiciously looked at her friend for a minute before it hit her. “Did Barry tell you to come here tonight?” The answer was crystal clear when Iris stiffened. “Oh my God it is. You’re here to babysit me.”

“Please don’t tell Barry I messed it up,” Iris shook her head. “I didn’t know this was the reason - he was very obscure with his words.”

“Oh my God!”

“No, but it’s okay!” Iris took down Belén’s flapping hands. “We haven’t had one sleepover since Barry went into the coma.”

“But that’s just it, Iris,” Belén snatched her hands and got up from the bed. “This isn’t a sleepover: it’s a babysitting job.”

“No it’s not!” Iris insisted, staying on her spot.

“So if Barry hadn’t called you then you would still be here?”

Iris bit her lip, nervously smiling. “Okay, so…maybe it kinda is like babysitting but it’s clear I’m not actually babysitting right now. I miss my friend, Bells. Are you really going to get mad at me?”

Belén dropped her arms on her sides and sat back down. “I’m not mad with anyone, I’m simply disagree with what Barry did.”

“Then let’s forget all about this and just focus on a sleepover! I vote we do this every week,” Iris laughed.

“That doesn’t sound half bad, honestly,” Belén mused. “Maybe I can even get Caitlin to come.”

“Oh, yes!” Iris pointed in agreement. “Poor girl stuck in between all that testosterone can’t be fun for her.”

Belén laughed and fully agreed. And as the night progressed she really did end up forgetting her problems.

~ 0 ~

“I can’t believe you guys are actually doing this,” Caitlin declared, but of course she didn’t mean it. Of course she believed Barry and Cisco would spend an entire afternoon working to find out who was Belén’s stalker. Of course.

“We wanted to help, Cait,” Barry shrugged, much too focused on the computer screen Cisco was working on to look at her. “The police simply aren’t fast enough.”

“But of course you are,” Dr. Wells mused, exchanging a knowing look with Caitlin.

“Exactly,” Barry said without noticing the looks.

“But so far there’s not enough footage,” Cisco remarked after pausing an ongoing security video. “I mean, there’s the guy,” he pointed at the hoodie man, “but it’s blurry.”

“So, just clear it up,” Caitlin shrugged.

“That can take hours.”

“Which you have.”

“Caitlin’s right,” Barry straightened. “You do that and I’ll check up on Bells.”

“Right, give me the boring job,” Cisco playfully rolled his eyes.

“I have to tutor actually, so believe me it won’t be all that glamorous.”

Barry was only midway towards the exit when everyone did a simultaneous 'woah’ and called him back.

“Now you're tutoring her?” Caitlin raised an eyebrow.

“It was the only she would stop putting herself in danger!”

The other three traded looks before all agreeing that was a horrible excuse.

Barry sighed and explained more fully his reasons. “I figured out that the tutor Belén was actually going to meet was her stalker. She called him and everything. I had to do something, alright?”

“Wait, she called him?” Cisco asked. “And he, like…answered?”

“Yeah…” Barry then realized it was certainly useful information. “Wait, do you think we could track the guy down with the phone?”

“Uhh…” Cisco honestly thought about it. “I don’t know…”

“We can do it,” Barry was already going on with the plan. “I take her phone and we track the call.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“She’s going to be work anyways it’s not like she’ll need it,” Barry shrugged.

“Besides-” Caitlin interjected, “-she’ll have her very own bodyguard in the meantime,” she smirked to herself and turned to her computer.

Barry rolled his eyes and sped out of the room.

Cisco looked Caitlin’s way and ended up smirking too. “I bet you twenty a date will come up in the next month.”

“What?” Caitlin blinked, looking indignant that this was turning into a game. She only joked with Barry because it was fun annoying him but she wouldn’t make money off actual feelings.

“Alright two months,” Cisco offered.

“Cisco!”

“I’ll join the bet,” Dr. Wells chimed in, surprising the two younger employees. “I like to have fun,” he reasoned after the looks he received.

“One month?” Cisco repeated.

“Two months.”

“Deal!”

Caitlin looked between the two men, feeling incredibly guilty as she cut in. “Belén’s too shy, like the counterpart of Barry, it’d be at least three months till one of them makes a move.”

Cisco’s wide, teasing smile made her feel worse. “One, two three months, alright!”

~ 0 ~

“You know, I don’t appreciate you sending Iris as a babysitter,” Belén remarked as she and Barry walked down a street, heading for CC Pictures.

Barry winced and sheepishly glanced down at her. “You know?”

“Yes, and I’m not happy about that.”

“I’m sorry, Bells, I was just trying to help…”

Belén smiled when she saw the instant guilt in him. She would let him off with a warning, she decided. “I appreciate your concern but I don’t think Iris should be dragged into my problems. She’s got a lot of stuff to do.”

“She didn’t mind,” Barry waved it off. Belén laughed and shook her head at him. He could act like such a child sometimes. “So I was thinking about our tutoring problem,” Barry changed the subject successfully, “And I realized you were right about something.”

“And that would be?” Belén wondered. It wasn’t common for her to be right about something concerning biology.

“You’re a journalist,” Barry declared, almost like it was a secret even she didn’t know, “Which means you’re used to seeing things face to face - like interviews and videos. You’re a visual learner!”

“And that means…?” Belén silently laughed at herself for ever thinking she would’ve been right about something in biology.

“A perfect way to tutor you is to use visualization. You know, like we can use simple things to recreate what I’m talking about.”

“Like blocks? And play-doh? That’s what kindergarten classes do to teach the students, no?”

“Yes!” Barry pointed. “We can use all that to help you understand!”

Belén giggled. “Great, so I’ll be a kindergartner. Will I get milk and cookies during a break?”

Barry played along and nodded his head. “If you’re extra good there may even be apple juice.”

“I don’t like Apple juice,” Belén scrunched her nose with distaste.

“Orange juice?”

“There we go!”

Barry grinned at her enthusiasm, and the fact she was forgetting of her problem. They came to a stop just outside CC Pictures.

“So, we’ll see each other tomorrow for that tutoring right?” he asked.

“Mhm, and I’ll ask Maritza if she can loan me some of her classroom bits for the session,” Belén laughed.

“Right,” Barry gave her a hug, and he discreetly dipped a hand into her bag to pull out her phone. He hated stealing from her but he conformed with the idea he would be tracking down the creep who was stalking her. If she got mad, he would find a way to make it up to her.

After bidding goodbye, Belén watched Barry leave a couple seconds before entering the news place. At the end of the street, the hoodie man stepped out behind a pole. His eyes had narrowed at the exchange between the two. He needed to act fast before anything more happened.

~ 0 ~

“I don’t…I don’t know…” Cisco let his hands lightly slam on the desk. Barry sighed beside him, letting his head hang. “It’s just we don’t have the expertise to do this.”

“We’re scientists, not hackers,” Caitlin mused from her spot at the desk. “It’s one thing to hack into street security cameras but a single phone searching for a single contact is tougher.” She was drinking from a mug of coffee and amusingly staring at the two while they desperately tried hacking into Belén’s phone. They’d been at it for a near two hours with no progress.

“Caitlin, please, we’re trying to work,” Cisco rolled his eyes at her.

“I’m just pointing out a simple truth,” Caitlin raised a hand in surrender.

“There has to be a way we could track the caller,” Barry persisted, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m open for ideas,” Cisco expectantly looked at him, arms crossed.

Barry began to pace while he thought of an actual idea. Five minutes later, he stopped. “There is…one person…that’s incredibly good with computers.”

“Who?” both Cisco and Caitlin looked at him curiously.

Barry turned to them, his hands behind his head, somewhat nervous. “Someone’s I’ve neglected to give a call since I woke up from the coma.”

The obscure answer left Cisco and Caitlin in the same state of confusion and curiosity they were in before the answer.

~ 0 ~

“I don’t understand where my phone went,” Belén exasperatedly rummaged through her bag for her cellphone. Linda stared at the intern, in right entertainment as Belén went from one desk to another thinking she’d dropped it there. “I can’t believe this!” Belén exclaimed and stopped when she remembered the last time she’d used her phone. “Oh! Maybe it’s on the street!”

“I doubt it’ll still be there,” Linda called but Belén was already on her way out.

It was beginning to get dark but Belén was confident she would find her phone again. She remembered the way Barry had walked them through and followed it. But when she turned down the block, she bumped into someone - a woman in leather purple.

“S-sorry,” Belén stumbled back, her smile fading when she looked up to the woman.

Though she wore a purple mask covering the top half of her face, her eyes bore on Belén in an intense way. Her burned brunette hair was as shiny as her clothing. “Belén Palayta?” the modulated voice of Plasticine stirred a fear in Belén.

“Wh-who are you?” Belén swallowed hard, discreetly moving back to the street of CC Pictures.

“Plasticine.” The woman took steps towards Belén. “You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Belén. And it has to stop.”

There was a crash of windows that made Belén jump and whirl to the direction of her workplace. She caught two masked people breaking in with weapons.

“Oh my God!” she meant to run after them but Plasticine grabbed her by the neck and yanked her back. Belén gasped for air as the arm tightly gripped her neck.

“This is a warning, Belén,” Plasticine murmured in Belén’s ear. “Stop your silly search for your brother. He's dead. He served his function to our crew and we killed him.”

“Wha-”

Plasticine shoved her to the ground and stepped a black heeled boot beside Belén’s head, startling the blonde. “Next time you get the urge to research about us we’ll make our anger known. Whether it’s through your father or your little friends.”

Belén fearfully gazed up at the tall woman, her hot tears pricking her eyes but not daring to escape in front of the stranger. “What happened to my brother?”

“He died,” Plasticine looked past her to the end of the street where her two comrades had come out of the news place already. “This was your first and final warning, Belén. Heed it.” She walked past Belén and strode down the rest of the street.

“No, wait!” Belén scrambled to get up but Plasticine shot out a purple, shapeless mass her way. Belén yelped and let herself fall again to dodge the mass in time.

Plasticine stopped beside CC Pictures to observe the destruction her two comrades had made. She could see that her sister’s desk had been completely ransacked of everything. She’d already taken care of the house so that meant Belén would have nothing left to search with. Feeling secure, she ran off.

“No!” Belén saw her one chance of finding her brother (whether dead or alive by that point) disappearing. She got up and made to run when someone grabbed her from behind, in a choke-hold.

Everything went dark soon after.

~ 0 ~

Usually, CC Pictures was the place where news was given out, not the center where the news took place. This time, the photography was aimed towards the inside of the building.

“I don’t know what happened - one moment we were working, the next these two people come in and start bashing things with these…these weird powers…” Linda Park was giving her testimony to Eddie Thawne by her desk that had miraculously stayed together and unturned.

Meanwhile, Barry was carefully examining the destruction at the other end of the room. Joe came up beside him inquiring the status of the scene. “So we’ve got new metahumans in the city. One has…” Barry gestured to the bits and pieces of ice shards left scattered around, “…ice powers. The other was reported to use some sort of electrical power. She appeared and disappeared. But the interesting part is they came looking for Belén’s things,” Barry narrowed his eyes, struggling to push away the overwhelming urge to speed out and begin the search for Belén.

“They destroyed her computer,” Joe pointed to the bits and pieces that used to be Belén’s laptop on the floor. “Ripped up all her papers - they basically destroyed everything of hers. And, what they didn’t, they took. There was also a sighing of that purple girl Cisco talks about sometimes, but she didn’t do anything except stand there.”

“Why? Why would they do that?” Barry turned away, balling a fist on his side. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Hey, Barry?” Linda called out to Barry once she finished her testimony. Joe left to go converse with Eddie over the new testimony in case it was useful. “You need to find my friend,” it sounded like an order but she didn’t quite care how it came out.

“We will,” Barry nodded. “I’m gonna get on it right now.”

“Do you have any idea who those people were?” Linda asked, stopping him from walking away. “Because it sounded like they knew her. I know Belén and she doesn’t make those types of friends.”

“No, I don’t think she knew them,” Barry sighed.

“Do you think…that maybe those people were there because Belén refuses to let go of her brother’s disappearance?”

The question struck realization in Barry.

“Belén didn’t tell me straight up but I know she hasn’t let go of Rayan’s case. Whenever she’s on a break she’s always on the laptop of hers. It’s pretty easy to put two and two.” Linda crossed her arms and lowered her tone. “Those people that came in asked only for Belén’s things and destroyed just her things. They said something of a lesson…what else could they be talking about?”

Linda Park was a genius, Barry immediately thought.

“Did you hear anything else?” Barry inquired. “Anything that could help us?”

“Just what I told Detective Thawne,” Linda shrugged, “The purple woman - the one that shoots those purple things - they were talking about her, I know they were. She’s the one who was standing outside…and I’m guessing she’s the one that took Belén in the end.”

“What was Belén doing outside in the first place?”

“Looking for her phone. She dropped it somewhere and when she went out that’s when the people came in.”

Barry felt a bad ping in his heart after that. It was his fault, no doubt. He took her phone and Belén went outside in search of it.

“Barry?” Linda’s voice brought him back to the present. She was giving him a motion but he didn’t quite catch it. “Your phone, it’s ringing.”

“What?” that’s when Barry realized his phone was indeed ringing, and relentlessly. Linda lightly smiled and walked away, leaving him to tend to the call. “Cisco, what is it?”

~ 0 ~

At STAR Labs, both Cisco and Caitlin were staring wide-eyed at the computer screen.

The hoodie man had been identified.

“Felicity got back to us,” Cisco began, his skin crawling with both fury and overwhelming fear.

“And?” Barry’s impatient tone went unnoticed by the two employees.

“You’ll never believe who took her…”

“He’s been M.I.A for months now,” Caitlin remarked off to the side.

“Who!?” Barry practically shouted from the other line.

~ 0 ~

“Wakey, wakey, my dear Belén,” went a familiar voice.

Belén was tied to wooden chair, her head hanging with her ombre blonde hair draped in front. She could hear the voice, and slowly configured it to its owner. She raised her head, and though hair strands still covered her face, she saw perfectly the man in the gray hoodie.

“C-Carlton?”

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Eye For An Eye

Pairing: Calum Hood/ Female Reader

Requested By: N/A

Word Count: 3,337

Summary: Calum gets back at Luke for a Halloween indiscretion. Smut. 18+ only.

“Come on, princess.” Calum cooed from the bed. He was sat on the edge, one sock on while he all but begged you to wear that little black dress that he loved. “It’s my birthday.” He reminded you with a smirk. You rolled your eyes as you pushed the dress to the side, out of way. Calum was fully dressed, already working on his getting his shoes on. But you were standing in the bedroom you shared in your underwear, staring blankly at the closet in front of you. You continued to scan over every dress in your closet, but nothing seemed quite right. With a sigh, you pulled the dress from its hanger. You held the dress in front of yourself, looking at your reflection in the mirror that covered the door of the closet. You gave yourself a once over, scrunching your nose at yourself.

“I don’t know, Cal.” You told him, averting your eyes to find him behind you. “I just don’t think it’s really appropriate for a birthday dinner at Luke’s.” The dress was a tight little number, fitting snug to every curve of your body. And it was short. So short that when Calum had brought it home for you from Europe you were almost sure that he’d gotten the wrong size, or even a juniors dress. He’d assured you that, no, this was right and coerced you into trying it on for him. That first night was the only time you’d ever worn it and even then, it didn’t make it out of the bedroom.

Calum stood from the bed and walked to you, his hands falling your hips. “Pretty please?” He asked again. His voice was low, smooth as honey and just as sweet. His hands pressed into your hips just slightly. “I promise I’ll never ask you to wear it out of the house again, baby.” He rolled his hips into yours as his lips fell to your exposed shoulder. “Just this once?”

You rolled your head to the side, letting Calum have full access to your neck. He left a trail of short, sweet kisses from your shoulder, up your neck and onto your jaw, before finally turning you to face him and landing a slow kiss to your slightly parted lips. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, asking you to open them further. The moment you obliged, he darted his tongue into your waiting mouth.

Dropping the dress to the floor, you put your hands around the back of his neck. Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging lightly. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. His dark brown eyes showed a hint of mischief behind them. You both knew exactly what he was doing, but it felt way too good for you to put up a fight.

“Fine.” You sighed. “I'll wear the stupid dress.” Calum bent over and picked the dress up from the floor, holding it up in front of you again. He cocked an eyebrow as he took a long look at you. “Thanks, honey.” You said, placing a quick kiss to his lips before you took the dress from his hands.

You turned away from him and stepped into the dress. You made quite a show of slowly pulling the dress up your legs, over your hips and torso, before finally settling the top of the strapless black fabric over your chest.

“Ya gonna do the boob thing?” Calum asked behind you, placing his hands on your hips once more.

You looked up to his reflection and furrowed your brows. “Boob thing?”

“Yeah.” He said. “You know that thing you don’t think I know about where you, like, dig in and pull your boob up?”

Your face went red and you dropped your gaze from his to the carpet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said with a shy giggle.

He moved his hands to wrap around your waist, his chin falling to your shoulder. He turned his face into your neck, his lips just barely brushing against your skin. “Of course you don’t, baby.” He whispered. You felt his lips curl into a smile before they softly touched to the warm skin just below your ear.

Twenty minutes later, you were both fully dressed and ready to leave for Luke's. Calum waved goodbye to Duke, telling him to be a good boy before leading you through the door. “I see you did the boob thing.” He commented, looking down at your cleavage as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Honestly, Calum, I have no idea what you're talking about.” You told him sweetly. “This is just how my boobs always look.”

Calum rolled his eyes as he opened your door for you, letting go of your hand when you slid into your seat. “You're just gonna lie to your boyfriend? Who loves you? On his birthday?”

“Have you always been this dramatic?”

“You'd have to ask my mum, but I think so.” He answered with a cheeky smile. He closed your door and walked around the front of the car before settling into the driver seat beside you.

You reached over to him and put your hand on his shoulder before moving it to tangle in the hair at the back of his head. He placed one hand on your thigh, his fingers warm against your bare skin. You began to run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, pulling softly at the ends.

“You know, this is why my hair always looks messy.” He said, a smile playing on his lips. You pulled your hand away, setting it on top of his and saying a quiet apology. Calum took your hand and placed it on his shoulder. “I never said I don't like it. Mess me up all ya want, baby.”

“I don't want to mess you up.” You laughed. Your hand found its way to his hair once again anyway. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a smirk on his face and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes at him as he drove across town.

When Calum parked in Luke's driveway, you two were the last to arrive. Calum quickly made his way around the front of the vehicle to help you out of the car. You tugged at the bottom of your dress, a groan falling from your lips as you walked toward the front door.

“We're late and I look like a cheap hooker.”

Calum giggled and took your hand in his. “The guest of honor is allowed to be late. And trust me, princess, that dress was not cheap.”

You rolled your eyes and continued to tug at the dress, hoping it would magically grow before Calum opened the door. It didn't. As he lead you into the house, you felt yourself growing more and more aware of just how revealing the dress actually was. When you reached the kitchen you were initially welcomed with a round of greetings, until everyone actually looked up from what they were doing.

You were definitely overdressed, to say the least. Luke and Michael’s girlfriends were dressed comfortably, but cute in nice jeans and tops. Ashton’s partner even wore a damn sweater. You immediately turned away from the group, tugging the back of the dress down as you walked away from the group- and Calum. He followed behind you, his hand finding the small of your back as he caught up to you next to the staircase.

“Where ya headed, speedy?” He asked with a laugh. He took a long step, stopping in front of you, one hand on your hip.

“I can’t believe I actually let you talk me into wearing this.” You whispered at him through gritted teeth. “I look ridiculous. They were all staring.”

A chuckle fell from his lips before he leaned into you, placing a kiss to your forehead. “If they’re staring, it’s because you look fucking amazing. They all wish they could make this dress work like my girl does.” His hand on your hip slipped lower, falling just below where the skirt ended on your thigh.

“You’re not allowed to call me your girl when I’m mad at you.” You sighed as his fingers pushed beneath the hem of your dress.

“I’m not?” He asked, his fingers trailing higher up your thigh.

“No.” You answered, your eyes slipping closed as your hands found their way to his shoulders.

“Shame.” He whispered, his lips pressing lightly to your neck. “Was just about to say that my girl is the hottest one here. That I love her. Love her in this dress. Love her ass in this dress.” His hand was now fully beneath your dress. You took a sharp breath through parted lips as his palm finally met your ass before giving it a tight squeeze.

“Calum-” You all but whined. You tightened your grip on his shoulders.

His hand that was still firm on your ass pulled your closer to him. “Yes, princess?” He asked, his lips brushing against your neck again.

“Better not start something you can’t finish.” You finally got the words out, between labored breaths as you tried to swallow the moans he was coaxing from you.

“You really think I can’t finish this, sweetheart?” His words were sweet, but his tone was anything but. His voice was dripping with lust, a cocky lilt to it as he began to pull his hand from beneath the hem of your dress.

“No,” You laughed, finally opening your eyes. “I know you can. I just don’t think you should.”

“Why not?”

“Because we are at our friends house for your birthday dinner, remember?”

“Ah, yes.” He replied with a smile. Just as you were about to tell him that you should get back to the rest of the party, he pushed the front hem of your dress up and began rubbing his long fingers over the thin material of your panties. You quickly pressed your face to his chest to cover the sounds you made. “Too bad about that, huh?”

You reached down between your bodies and pulled his hand away. “Cal, we can’t.”

“I think we can.”

“How?” You asked, gesturing vaguely around you. “Where?”

“Upstairs.” He answered with a shrug. “And, I think if we try real hard, we could probably figure out the how.” He smirked, slowly inching his hand back under your dress.

His eyes were focused on yours as his fingers once again began to press against the thin lace beneath your dress. He wanted it, god he wanted it bad. But even when he was at his most dominant, Calum was always respectful. Never really made you do anything, but he knew how to sweet talk you into most things. This time, however, he was quiet. He’d presented his idea, and was letting you mull it over on your own. After a few minutes of thought, accompanied by his teasing, you agreed.

“We have to be quick, though.” You told him over your shoulder as you lead him up the stairs. “I don’t need everyone thinking that I wore this to seduce you or something.”

You heard Calum giggle behind you as you reached the top of the stairs. You turned to open the door to the first guest bedroom when you felt Calum pull your hand. He continued down the hallway to the master bedroom. He opened the door and the two of you quickly slipped inside, closing it behind you.

“Cal, this is their bedroom.” You said to him as he started to gently pull you to the bed.

“I know.”

“Okay, so why are we in here?” You asked. “They have like three guest bedrooms we could go to.”

“They didn’t use any of our guest rooms, did they?” He asked as he pulled the hem of your dress up to your waist.

“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, ya know.” You told him with a laugh when he pushed you down to the bed.

“So does sex on his bed for sex on our bed make the whole world laid?” He asked, another giggle making itself heard. He pulled down your panties, not even bothering to take off your shoes as he slid the lacy material over your feet. “Because I feel like nobody would be upset about that.”

“We’re really about to do this?” You asked as he pulled down his pants, just enough for his semi-erect shaft to be freed. “You really want to have sex on Luke’s bed just because he did it first?”

“If we’re being honest, I just want to have sex with you everywhere. All the time. For any reason I can get away with.”

“Did you even bring a condom? I don’t have my purse.”

He reached into the back pocket of his black jeans and pulled out a single foil package. “‘Course, princess.” He answered with a wink. “Now, will you please get over here and wrap those pretty, pretty lips around me so we can do this?”

“Such a romantic.” You said with a roll of your eyes as you sat up before moving to the floor. You sat on your knees, your dress still around your waist as you began to take him in your mouth. You made quick work of it, not wanting to get caught if you took too long.

A string of strained, quiet moans poured from his lips above you as you bobbed your head up and down. “Okay,” He panted, putting a hand on your cheek to pull you away from him. “Up. On the bed.” You did as you were told while he rolled the condom onto himself. You moved to the edge of the bed and spread your legs while he pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance.

He put his hand firmly over your mouth as he pushed into you. Normally, he would take the first few pumps slowly to ease you into it, but there wasn’t time for that tonight. You were suddenly glad that he had covered your mouth when you heard the moan that he was stifling. It was still pretty loud, but hopefully not loud enough to be heard by the rest of the party.

He bent over and kissed your cheek lightly. “I know, princess.” He whispered. “You okay?” You nodded, your eyes screwing shut as he pulled back out. He moved his hips back into yours quickly, another moan hitting his open palm against your lips. He continued to pull out and push back into you quickly, all the while whispering quiet and loving affirmations into your ear.

“You’re doing so fucking good, baby. Love you so much.”  He grunted into your shoulder as he continued to thrust his hips. “Best girlfriend ever.”

The pain that had come with the initial stretch was starting to subside as Calum’s thrusts started to get more and more erratic. You felt him still inside of you before he pulled his body away from yours. He stood up straight and put one of his hands between the two of you. “How close are you?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You told him, pulling his hand away and lacing your fingers with his. “You can take care of me later.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, just fuck me please.” You whined. A grin spread across his face as he reached his hand forward to cover your mouth again. “You don’t have to, I’ll be quiet.”

“If you say so.” He shrugged his shoulders and pulled your knees up to rest above his waist. “Ready?” You nodded. He started to thrust into you, even quicker now than he had been before. It took less than a minute for him to finish, grunting loudly above you as he spilled into the condom.

He pulled out of you and took the condom off, tying the top before walking into the attached bathroom to throw it away. He was tucking himself back into his jeans as he walked back into the bedroom. You were just pulling your panties up when he stopped, a few steps into the room and let out a low whistle.

“Damn, baby.” He said, taking a few steps closer to you. “My girl got a future behind her.” You felt his hand fall your ass lightly.

“I wish I’d never told you what that means.” You said with a roll of your eyes as you finished pulling them up. He laughed quietly before pulling you in to a kiss. His hands were on the small of your back, holding you tightly to his chest. You reluctantly pulled away from him, “We have to get back down there before someone sends a search party.”

“I’ll tell ya where I’d like to get back down to.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows as his hands found their way to your hips.

“Dude, you literally just got done down there.” You laughed, pulling away from his hands.

You pulled your dress down as you opened the bedroom door and lead him down the hallway. His hands were on you the entire walk back into the kitchen. Neither of you could contain your smiles and nervous giggles as you walked into the room. Calum pulled your seat out for you before taking his own seat next to you.

“You two good?” Crystal asked as Calum picked up his napkin.

“Yeah.” He answered her, shooting you a confused glance. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“The way Y/N took off we assumed you were getting your ass handed to you when you ran upstairs.” Ashton chimed in.

Calum giggled and reached for your hand under the table. “Oh, that? That was nothing. Everything is great.”

You glanced over the table, hoping that everyone would believe Calum's nonchalant demeanor. Your eyes met Luke's, and your face suddenly dropped to your empty plate in front of you. You felt him look between you and Calum, your flushed faces and goofy grins a dead giveaway.

“Oh, my god.” Luke groaned from the head of the table. You looked up to him, finding him with his head in his hands, his blond curls falling over them. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Calum asked innocently, his shit eating grin betraying the two of you.

“Luke,” You started, but he cut you off.

“I can’t believe you two.” He said, way too loudly. “You’re disgusting.”

“All’s fair in love and war, my friend.” Calum told him as he picked up his glass of wine, taking a sip when he finished.

Michael laughed from across the table, his giggle high pitched as he leaned back in his seat. “He’s got a point.”

“Watch yourself or your bed is next, Clifford.” Luke said sternly.

“I didn’t do anything!” He said. “Besides, you did start this. Getting it on while your friend throws a Halloween party.”

“Thank you, Michael.” Calum giggled, lifting his glass towards him. You and Luke’s girlfriend exchanged a glance.

“Okay, guys.” She said finally, standing from her seat and putting her hands up. “Calum and Y/N, we are very sorry we had sex in your bed, okay?” Calum nodded. “But now, you’re even, yeah?” Once again, he just nodded to her. “Great, so how about nobody has sex in anyone's bed that isn’t their own from here out?”

Michael put his hand up like he was back in school. “But what if-”

“No, no.” She stopped him, shaking her head. “No sex in a bed that you don’t own.”

After a few giggles from all around the table, everyone agreed and she sat back down. She put her hand on Luke’s shoulder and you saw him relax at her touch.

Calum leaned over to you, “I have Michael’s key.” He whispered into your ear.

“Dude, I heard that I’m changing my locks tomorrow.” Michael told him, earning another round of giggles from the table.

~~~~

Birthday Sex by Jeremih can be heard quietly in the distance. 

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