#also RIP echo and fives (again)

[echo-coyote]

Ahsoka and Obi Wan having a chat at the Jedi temple

[chelseeebe]

bump n’ grind

a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.

18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.

eddie’s on cloud nine.

his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.

not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.

sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.

he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.

and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.

a long, drawn out iteration of your name.

she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”

his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”

eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.

“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.

“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.

“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.

she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.

“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”

best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.

“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.

he’d deserve it.

-

eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.

it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.

not that he was counting.

and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.

nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.

he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.

every. last. detail.

you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”

eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.

“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.

“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.

“i’m not sad.”

you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.

sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.

“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”

his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.

“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.

eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.

“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.

“you.”

“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.

his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.

“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.

“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”

he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.

“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.

“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.

“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.

you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.

if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.

you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”

oh god.

“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”

his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.

“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.

“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.

it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.

“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”

he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,

“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.

the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.

“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.

your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.

“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.

“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.

you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.

he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.

his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.

“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.

that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.

it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.

eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.

“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.

“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.

your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.

his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.

“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.

your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.

eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.

“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.

he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.

yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.

your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.

his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.

an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.

but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.

[writerinlearning]

𝐋𝗼𝐯𝐞 𝐏𝗼𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧

plot: during a mission, henry gets hit with a chemically-altered weapon and finds himself under the influence of the love pollen.

pairing: henry hart x fem!reader

show: henry danger

warnings: none that i can think of. brief mention of injuries, maybe?

word count: 8,9k

author’s notes: english is not my first language, apologies for any mistakes. this piece is based off a request i received, and it is the only request i’ll ever do (i have explained why in the guidelines tab you can find in the pinned post on my blog). as i read the request, an idea popped into my head right away, which is why i had to write it. this takes place around season five of henry danger, before henry loses his hypermotility. it’s also sorta inspired by the episode love muffin from season three of henry danger. a little backstory worth mentioning, reader got the job as one of ray’s sidekicks the same day as henry, and she goes by the name Menace. i hope you enjoy reading!

henry hart masterlist | main masterlist

It all just kind of happened. Y/N cannot tell how, when or why; it just happened. It was supposed to be a simple mission: catch a bad guy who escaped from the police’s holding cell, throw his ass back to jail, and celebrate the victory with Inside-Out Burger and the rest of the Danger team. It was anything but. 

“Hen, are you okay?” Y/N asks her friend, gently tapping his cheek to wake him up.

She can hear grunts and shouts behind her, and she knows Ray is trying his best to subdue Dr. Lover, a misguided scientist who uses the pollen from various flowers to create all kinds of chemical weapons with his scientific knowledge. But her focus is solely on her best friend, who lay unconscious on the floor after being hit by a blast from one of Dr. Lover’s weapons. Y/N pulls her lower lip between her teeth, one hand gently cradling Henry’s face while she uses her other hand to gently tap his nose and cheek again.

“C’mon Hen, wake up.”

Y/N insists, her voice barely above a whisper as she keeps on trying to wake him up, but his eyes stay closed. The weapon Dr. Lover used on Kid Danger lay scattered somewhere around her, but it is of no use to her as she has no idea what that weapon is, and what it does. 

Panic slowly creeps under her skin. Her breathing becomes shallow, shortened. Her eyes flicker around the warehouse, but they always drift back to her best friend, lying unconscious next to her. The sounds of Captain Man’s grunts as he fights Dr. Lover gets muffled by the racing thoughts in her brain, and her vision becomes blurry when the tears fill her eyes. A short whimper leaves her slightly parted lips, and she bites down her bottom lip again, trying to keep herself together.  

“Shit!” She blurts out, voice shaking. “Don’t do this to me Henry, come on…”

She moves one of her hands from his face to the side of his neck, looking for his pulse. The adrenaline rushes through every fiber of her body when she cannot find it, and she can feel the tears silently rolling down her cheeks. She chokes back on a sob, the sound muffled by the hand she brings to her mouth to stop herself from breaking entirely. She inhales sharply, breath trembling as she composes herself. She knows CPR, she could try that, but she isn’t certain Henry needs it. She doesn’t know what that weapon did to him, and maybe she just couldn’t find his pulse because she’s wearing her black and navy-blue gloves. With her teeth, she rips one glove from her hand and she brings her now bare fingers to Henry’s neck, looking for his pulse again. It’s there, but it’s faint, slowing down with each second that passes. A small, relieved sigh leaves her, and she closes her eyes for a short instant. Her ears pick up on the fight behind her, and from the clinking of cuffs against metal and the ragged breaths echoing around the corrugated iron walls, she can tell that Captain Man is close to subdue Dr. Lover. 

Y/N looks down on Henry again. She contemplates whether or not to slap him hard across his face to wake him up, but she doubts it will do much when her mind reminds her that his pulse is slowing down. She takes a deep breath, remembering about that one time where she went to a first-aid training. She can do this. With one hand, she tilts Henry’s head up, and with the other she gently pinches his nose as she leans down to perform mouth to mouth. She repeats her movements twice, lowering her ear on his chest to listen to the sound of his heartbeat, and she resumes her first-aid action another three times before Henry’s body jerks forward in a sitting position as he gasps for air. Y/N gets knocked out of the way in the process, but she lets out a relieved sigh when she sees her best friend finally awake. 

“Kid Danger, are you okay?” She asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Henry blinks, running a hand across his face as he looks around, taking in his surroundings. His eyebrows crease a frown on his forehead, and he scratches his temple. He is in an old warehouse, that much he can tell from the dirty walls and the lack of artificial light from the ceiling. He can feel the wind creeping through the holes in the doors and in the walls, and he has to stop himself from retching when the scent of acid reaches his nose. Slowly, the memories of why he is here come back to the forefront of his mind. Dr. Lover had escaped from jail, and it’d been up to Captain Man, Kid Danger, and Menace to get him back there. They’d found him in the old warehouse near the Swellview border, but as soon as they’d stepped inside he got hit by a powerful purple blast that knocked him off his feet. He feels a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, and he turns his head around.

There she is, Y/N. She wears her sidekick uniform, a navy-blue spandex suit with a black leather jacket that matches his own silver and red one. Her mask, the same colours as her uniform, covers her eyes and there’s a dark eyeshadow that covers her skin; the same way silver eyeshadow covers his. 

“Hey Kid Danger.” Y/N smiles when she holds his gaze to hers. “How are you feeling? You got hit pretty badly.”

“I– I–” Henry stutters, feeling the heat rise in his body. “I love you.”

His voice is soft, and Y/N chokes back on her saliva, blinking rapidly. This certainly came out of nowhere, she thinks. She holds her breath when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her midsection and a mop of hair brushing against her chin. Her body freezes, and her mind begins to race with a thousand thoughts by the second. What’s happening? She clears her throat, shaking her head as her eyes drift back to her best friend who is now all snuggled up against her, eyes closed and a lovestruck smile hanging on his lips. She chuckles awkwardly, the sound rumbling from her chest as she puts her hands on Henry’s shoulders to gently push him away from her. 

“Alright Kids, we’re good to–”

Captain Man begins to say as he approaches his two sidekicks, but he stops himself mid-sentence when his eyes land on the both of them. A smirk cracks his face, watching Kid Danger snuggling up against Menace and how the teenage girl’s eyes are blown wide in surprise. A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he crouches down next to Menace, putting a hand over her shoulder.

“So, Kid Danger’s okay.” Ray smiles, eying Henry through his mask. 

“Is he?” Y/N tilts her head, brows furrowed. “Ray, he won’t let me go.” She whispers then.

“Alright.” The man shrugs, standing up and grabbing one of Henry’s arms to pull him up. “Come on Kid, we gotta go.”

Henry whines when he is pulled away from Y/N, lips pouted when he turns to look at Ray. Y/N lets out a heavy sigh, jumping on her two feet. She picks up her glove, sliding it back on her hand, and she brushes away the dust that had gathered on her legs when she’d been sitting on the floor. When she looks back at her boss, Henry’s already back by her side, both his arms wrapped around her shoulders as he rests his chin in the crook of her neck. The heat flares up her cheeks, and Y/N is fairly certain that her face is a bright red colour. Henry’s sudden confession lingers in her mind; it felt weird, and out of the blue. Sure, she’s had the longest crush on her best friend; she can’t even remember when she first caught feelings for him, but she always tried to hide the way she truly feels about him. Had he suddenly figured it out and needed to tell her how he feels too? Or did Dr. Lover’s chemical weapon do something to him? Either way, Y/N cannot shake the feeling of déjà-vu; like something similar had happened before. She lets out a soft smile, running a gloved hand across her face as she feels Henry’s arms tighten their embrace around her shoulders. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, helplessly looking at Ray, with her head slightly tilted to the side.��

“I don’t think he’s gonna let you go, Kid.” Ray states, amused by the situation.

“You think?” Y/N snaps back, brows raised. “How are we supposed to get back to the Man Cave if he’s all snuggled up against me?”

Ray shrugs as his eyes drift towards Henry. His eyes are closed as he lays his head above Y/N’s left shoulder, his hands locked together over her clavicles. Y/N lets out a breath, giving Henry’s hands a gentle tap to break free of his hold, and she steps aside next to him when he unravels his arms from around her. There’s a lopsided grin on his lips when he looks at her through half-opened lids, and a small giggle rumbles from his chest when her hand finds his. 

“C’mon Kid Danger.” She says, her voice soft. “Let’s get back to the Man Cave.”

—

Going back to the Man Cave proved to be more difficult than what Y/N had expected, with Henry stuck to her the whole way there and Ray making snarky remarks here and there whenever Y/N tried to pull away and Henry protested. Now she’s sitting on the round couch near the supercomputer, out of her Menace uniform and back into her own clothes, with Henry snuggled up against her, him too in his civilian clothes. 

Y/N had seen Henry under the influence of a love potion before, but she didn’t have romantic feelings for him then. And, she hadn’t been the object of his love. She vaguely remembered the events from two years earlier, when Ray had had muffin-induced feelings of love for a villain named Gwen. The woman had tried to do the same with Henry, but instead of having muffin-induced feelings of love for her, he ended up having muffin-induced feelings for Jasper. The feelings only disappeared when anger took over them, and she remembers how Henry had been injured after picking up a fight with Ray. When she thinks about it, she should have known that giving mouth to mouth to her best friend after he’d been hit by one of Dr. Lover’s weapons would lead to something like this. Surely the villain didn’t call himself Dr. Lover for nothing. 

Y/N closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose when the elevator doors ding open. She tries her best to look over her shoulder to see who it is, but the task turns out to be complicated when you have a six feet teenage boy holding onto you for dear life with his head buried in the crook of your neck. She groans softly, throwing her head back against the edge of the couch, getting a glimpse of Jasper approaching the Man couch.

“I am so glad I am not the object of his love this time!” Jasper snorts when he sits across from Y/N, a smile on his lips.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my suffering, Jasp.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Come on, Y/N.” Jasper smirks, giving her a knowing side-eye. “Is it really suffering?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Y/N’s lips turn into a thin line as she glares at Jasper, who only raises his arms up in defense. So, maybe she’s been more obvious than she thought she’d been about her feelings for her best friend but last she knew, Henry had no idea how she felt about him and she’d prefer it if it stayed that way. She doesn’t want to ruin her friendship with him, and she certainly won’t let the influence of a love potion change that. If it even is a love potion, she thinks. 

Henry shifts next to her, and Y/N takes it as an opportunity to move away from him. But Henry’s faster than her, curse his hypermotility, and his slender fingers wrap themselves around her wrist, pulling her back to him. She lets out a small yelp when she lands on his lap, her body stiffening when his arms snake around her waist and he pulls her close. Her back is against his chest, and he rests his chin atop her shoulder, his blond mop of tangled hair brushing against her earlobe. A shiver runs down her spine, and she has to close her eyes to control her breathing. Schwoz needs to figure out what happened to Henry, and he needs to figure it out soon.

“I don’t suppose making him angry will change anything?” Y/N suggests, raising a brow at Jasper.

He seems to think for a moment. “Nope. Schwoz said this wasn’t like the love muffin from two years ago so…” He trails out, looking for his next words. “Whatever Dr. Lover did to Henry, it’s different from Gwen and her love muffins.”

“Okay… but here’s a thought. We never caught Gwen again, after the whole incident. Do we think she might be working with Dr. Lover this time?”

Jasper shrugs, taking a quick glance towards Henry. His eyes are closed as he leans over Y/N’s shoulder, a lovestruck smile hanging on his lips, and his arms are tightly secured around her waist, preventing her from evading him. It reminds Jasper of the time where Henry had been under the influence of the love muffin, and how he wouldn’t stop clinging onto him until Piper had attacked him for stealing her curling iron. Jasper grimaces at the memory, but he can understand Y/N’s discomfort with the whole situation. Contrary to what everyone thinks, Jasper has a tendency to observe people when they’re not watching, and even an idiot would see the way Y/N steals furtive glances towards Henry when he’s not looking, or how her cheeks would flare up whenever someone suggested that they might be dating. Jasper knows about Y/N’s feelings for Henry, but he keeps it to himself because he knows it has to come from her if she ever wants to say anything about it. Besides, he is an excellent secret keeper, he wouldn’t tell on his friends. But when he thinks about it, perhaps Y/N’s right. Perhaps Dr. Lover’s been working with Gwen, and whatever it was that hit Henry earlier today might have something to do with Gwen’s love muffins from two years ago. 

The sprocket hisses as it rises to the ceiling, and Jasper turns his head towards it. Ray steps out, eyes stuck to the PearPad he holds in his hands. His brows are furrowed, creasing lines on his forehead that show the weight of a life of crime-fighting. At the same time, the hidden door between the supercomputer panel and the auto-snacker clicks open, and Y/N looks over Jasper’s shoulder to see Schwoz coming out of there, grumbling in a foreign language. 

“Did you find anything?” Y/N asks Schwoz, a little hopeful.

But the science man says nothing, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as he walks to another room, somewhere in the hallways behind the tube pads. Y/N sighs, throwing her head back as she closes her eyes. The exhaustion of the day starts to weigh on her, to the point that she doesn’t care if she’s Henry’s hostage anymore. Besides, his shoulder’s comfortable so why wouldn’t she rest her head on it? Henry seems to enjoy it too, because as soon as her head is on his shoulder, his smile grows larger across his face, and he half-open his eyes to glance at her. All he can see is her strained neck though, and all he can think about is how tempting it is to kiss it. Instead, he simply nuzzles his face closer to the crook of where her neck and shoulder meet, the tip of his nose brushing against her skin as her sweet perfume fills his nostrils when he takes a deep, contented breath. He doesn’t realize that his small gesture makes the goosebumps rise on Y/N’s skin, nor does he notice how she holds her breath for a minute.

“Ray?” Y/N calls out eventually, her voice half-asleep. She doesn’t mean to enjoy the close proximity with Henry, but it’s comfortable. Safe.

Ray detaches his gaze from the PearPad in his hands to look up to the round couch where both his sidekicks and Jasper are seated. He raises a brow when he notices the smirk on Jasper’s face, but he can’t help a smirk of his own when he sees just what Jasper is smiling about. 

“Ray?” Y/N calls out again, her voice sleepy.

“Yeah?” Ray suppresses a chuckle.

“Do we think Gwen might be working with Dr. Lover?”

“Why?”

“Well…”

Y/N stops herself when she feels Henry’s fingers suddenly trail up and down her right side, sending a shiver down her spine. She holds her breath, pressing her lips together to try to compose herself, and she moves her arms down on Henry’s, clasping her hands above his to make him stop. She swallows the nervous lump in her throat, gathering her thoughts. Henry smiles lazily against her neck, and she can feel the redness in her cheeks. She clears her throat, blinking.

“We know Henry’s been hit with one of Dr. Lover’s weapons,” she begins again, her voice wavering. “And whatever it was, it made him fall in love with me, for some reason. Is it possible that, whatever that weapon was, it had the same kind of chemicals Gwen’s love muffins had when she made you fall in love with her, and Henry with Jasper?”

Her words are slurred together as she voices out her thoughts, and it takes Ray a minute to understand her. Another, deeper frown creases lines on his forehead as he reflects on her words. Much of what happened with Gwen was like a foggy memory in his brain, and the only thing he could remember clearly was how angry he’d been when Henry had tried to pick up a fight with him. Ray looks back at Y/N, a brow raised as she slowly lifts her head, eyelids half-dropped over her eyes. Behind her, Henry whines softly as his head falls off of her shoulder.

“We never caught Gwen either, after the whole muffin fiasco.” Y/N mumbles sleepily. “Could she have been working with Dr. Lover?”

Ray seems to be considering this. “She might have.” He says then, looking back at the PearPad in his hands. “I’ll ask Schwoz to compare the chemicals from the love muffin with the ones from Dr. Lover’s weapon.”

Y/N hums in response. The elevator dings open, and Jasper looks over his friends’ heads to see Charlotte coming out of it, her eyebrows rising up in confusion when she spots Y/N on Henry’s lap. Like Y/N earlier, Charlotte also gets a sense of déjà-vu. She frowns as she makes her way to the couch.

“Is this the love muffin thing all over again?” Charlotte asks, sitting next to Jasper.

Charlotte, Jasper, Y/N, and Schwoz are the only ones who remember in detail what had happened two years ago, with Gwen and her love muffins. And although they did tell Henry and Ray what had happened, their memories of it were always a little foggy. The only thing they can remember from it is being angry when someone attacked the one they loved or said bad things about them.

“Yeah, but I think Y/N’s secretly enjoying it.” Jasper laughs and winks as he answers Charlotte.

Y/N gives him a glare, suddenly wide awake. “I do not.” She feels her cheeks turning bright red. “It’s just– every time I try to leave,” she says, unraveling Henry’s arms from around her waist and shifting to a seat next to him to prove a point. Henry whines in discontent, reaching for her again. Y/N sighs. “This happens.” She clicks her tongue, allowing Henry to wrap his arms around her waist again. 

He doesn’t pull her onto his lap this time, and only one of his arms has snuck around behind her back to wrap around her waist, but he rests his head above her shoulder, reaching for one of her hands with his free arm. Y/N lets him, and a shiver runs down her spine as he intertwines his fingers with hers, the warmth of his palm spreading through hers. 

Charlotte cannot help the side-smirk that grows in the corner of her lips as she watches her two friends together. She can see the way the flush spreads across Y/N’s face, and the tired lovestruck smile stuck on Henry’s features. She knows Jasper has figured it out, about Y/N’s feelings for Henry; they did talk about it together, but Charlotte is fairly certain Jasper has no idea that Henry actually reciprocates Y/N’s feelings. She isn’t even sure Henry is aware of his own, obvious feelings for Y/N, but if he is, he’s actually doing a better job at hiding it than Y/N is. Charlotte actually figured it out because she noticed the way Henry would steal glances in Y/N’s way, or how his brows would furrow whenever a boy outside of him or Jasper would come up to Y/N and engage in a conversation with her, however platonic it was. 

“I got it! I got it! I got it!”

The three teenagers lift their heads up, to see Schwoz storming inside the Man Cave, flailing his arms up in the air as he runs in circles from one end of the room to the other. Even Henry has lifted his head up, if only for a second, a pout on his lips as he observes Schwoz through half-opened lids, his brows furrowed together. Ray puts his PearPad onto the console of the supercomputer, spinning around in the chair he sits in as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising a brow in anticipation as he looks toward the science man.

“What is it, Schwoz?” Charlotte asks, raising a brow.

“I know why Henry is all lovestruck.” Schwoz smirks, pointing at Henry.

“You do?” Y/N speaks up, albeit a little too excitedly.

Her sudden movement makes Henry’s head fall off of her shoulder, jolting him awake. His frown deepens on his forehead at the loss of contact when Y/N pulls her hand away from his as she stands from the couch, stradling past him to be next to Schwoz with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Pff, yeah I do.” Schwoz nods. “Only a stupid person would not get it.”

“Okay…” Y/N trails out, glancing at Ray, Charlotte, and Jasper. “So, what is it?”

“It’s love pollen.”

“Love pollen?” Charlotte asks, standing up too. “What do you mean love pollen? What is that?”

“Yeah! Henry was hit with a blast, why would it be any kind of pollen?” Ray adds, confused.

Schwoz sighs, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, how can I dumb it down so even a stupid child could understand?”

His rhetorical question is met with a lot of protests from Ray, an offended gasp from Charlotte, and a scoff from Y/N, but Schwoz pays them no mind. He begins to stroke his chin as if he had a beard, walking over to the couch and taking Charlotte’s place next to Jasper. He glances towards Henry, eying him cautiously. His head is laying on his arm on the round table in front of the couch, chocolate eyes focused on Y/N, and a silly grin has found its place across his features. He extends his free arm towards Y/N and she sighs, rolling her eyes before she caves in again. Her hand finds his, and he instantly pulls her down next to him, scooting over so she doesn’t fall on her butt on the floor from sitting on the edge of the couch. A contented sigh leaves his lips when she is next to him, and he lays his head back on her shoulder as he sneaks his free arm around her waist. He doesn’t let go of her hand either, keeping it on his thigh as he begins to rub his thumb in small circles across her knuckles.

“Are you going to tell us or not, Schwoz?” Y/N asks, growing frustrated.

“In a minute!” Schwoz retorts, his foreign accent slipping through.

“Does it have anything to do with the love muffins?” Charlotte wonders, tilting her head.

“Well, yes. And no.”

“Well, which is it, Schwoz?” Ray queries, raising a brow.

“Both. See, the love pollen comes from a rare flower that is illegal to harvest in the America. Very hard to find. When someone breathes it, they become in love with the first people they see. Or kiss.”

“But Henry didn’t breathe the love pollen.” Jasper retorts, thinking. “He was hit by one of Dr. Lover’s weapons.”

“Y– yeah, a purple blast.” Y/N adds, remembering. “Knocked him out for a good ten minutes.”

“Henry’s lab tests show traces of love pollen in his system, and other chemicals that are similar to the ones from the love muffins.” Schwoz shrugs.

“Okay, so maybe Dr. Lover found a way to combine them and turn them into a weapon!” Charlotte suggests, snapping her fingers. “He’s a scientist, with all kinds of gadgets– maybe he figured out a way to use the love pollen and the chemicals from the love muffin as a weapon.”

“Which means that Gwen was probably working with him!” Jasper adds. 

“So we just have to make Henry angry, and he’ll stop being in love with me. Right?” Y/N asks, turning her gaze to Schwoz.

“Love pollen is stronger than the love muffin chemicals, and because it is in higher quantity in Henry’s system, I don’t think making him angry will work.”

Y/N sighs, throwing her head back. Great, that’s just great, she thinks. So they know what’s causing Henry to be infatuated with her, but they have no idea how to make it stop. And the last thing Y/N wants is for Henry to be infatuated with her without being aware of it in the first place. If she’s honest with herself though, she really doesn’t mind the attention he’s been giving her; she just wishes it were real.

“Well, you better figure something out, Schwoz.” Ray speaks up.  “Because we need Kid Danger to fight crime.”

“I’ll help Schwoz figure it out.” Charlotte says.

Y/N lifts her head up then, glancing at her friend and mouthing a small ‘thank you’. Charlotte dips her chin down in understanding as Schwoz rises from the couch, and the two of them soon disappear behind the hidden door near the auto-snacker. 

“Okay, Hen…” Y/N sighs, sitting straighter on the couch. Her free hand rests on Henry’s arm around her waist. “It’s getting late and I need to go home. Can you let me go?”

Henry lets out a soft whine in protest, his hold strengthening around her waist and Y/N groans. Jasper snorts in front of her, and she gives him a death stare, smirking proudly as he lowers his head to avoid her stare. Then, she glances up to Ray, who’s watching her with an amused gleam in his eyes. She frowns, tilting her head to the side.

“A little help, Ray?” She asks him, hopeful.

“He’s going to follow you home, you know.” Ray states, raising a brow. “Poor kid’s infatuated with you, he can’t even be a minute without you.”

Y/N sighs. “I can’t go home with him like that. My mom’s gonna figure something out.”

“Then tell her you’re staying at Char’s place.” Jasper suggests. “And you stay here in the Man Cave until she and Schwoz figure out something.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, leaning back into the couch. She reaches for her phone in her front pocket, quickly texting her mother after unlocking her screen. She then sets her phone down on the table in front of her, shifting in her seat to be more comfortable. She watches as Ray stands up, exchanging a few words with Jasper before he disappears through the same door as Charlotte and Schwoz. Jasper stands up then, and Y/N frowns as she follows his movements towards the elevator. 

“Are you going to leave me here alone?” She asks her friend, the frown deepening on her forehead.

“You’re not alone.” Jasper smiles. “You have Henry!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Eh, you’ll be fine. He’s mostly harmless. Besides, Ray’s gonna kill me if I’m not back up at the store.”

“It’s a fake store.” Y/N deadpans. “And since when do you pretend to care about the store?”

“I don’t.” Jasper shrugs. “But we gotta keep up with the appearances.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at that, huffing. She hears the elevator doors ding, followed by a loud whirring sound before the Man Cave falls quiet again. She lets out a sigh, her chest heaving up and down as she does so, and then she tilts her head to look at Henry. He looks peaceful, with his head on her shoulder and the soft smile on his lips. It almost looks like he’s sleeping, with his eyes closed, but she knows he isn’t; she can feel his thumb still brushing against her knuckles. Y/N knows none of this is real, save for her own feelings, and she knows that Henry probably won’t remember anything once he comes out of it. But it feels nice; it feels real. Safe. She leans back into the couch, leaning her head over Henry’s, and she closes her eyes, a quiet sigh leaving her lips. 

—

Y/N doesn’t remember falling asleep but when she wakes up, the Man Cave is entirely quiet. She blinks several times, adjusting her eyesight to the dimmed lights in the room. The slow beeping from the supercomputer reaches her ears before the soft snores coming from right beside her. Her back is beginning to hurt from leaning over the table, and she barely can feel her arms from the weight of her head on them. How long had she been asleep?

She wants to move; to stand up to get the blood flowing to her arms and legs again, but there’s a weight on her back and a gentle pressure around her midsection that prevent her from moving around. She inhales slowly, the memories creeping back into her mind. Her heart flutters in her chest when her brain processes who’s sleeping beside her, and her body relaxes. She shouldn’t enjoy it, when she knows that Henry’s feelings for her are not real and it’s all because of Dr. Lover’s weapon. Love pollen, as Schwoz called it earlier. And yet, she feels safe in his arms, and she revels in the warmth of his embrace, his soft snores vibrating against her back. She finds herself smiling, slowly moving an arm down to rest it against Henry’s around her waist, and she absentmindedly begins to run her fingers up and down the exposed skin of his forearm, closing her eyes again and living in the moment, however short it might be. 

Henry stirs beside her, slowly lifting his head up as a yawn leaves his lips. A shiver runs down his spine when his brain acknowledges the tingling sensation on his arm, and he opens his eyes. They land on Y/N and on the way she gently moves her fingers up and down his forearm. He doesn’t know whether she’s asleep or awake, but he doesn’t move, just in case. There is this yearning look in his eyes as he looks at her, flutters in his stomach as his knees touch hers. His gaze drops to her lips, his pulse racing at the thought of kissing her. 

“I can feel you staring…” Y/N mumbles, still-half asleep.

Henry’s eyes widen in surprise as she opens hers, and his face flushes red. He blinks, trying to avert his eyes from hers, but her genuine laugh brings him back to look at her again. She shoves him playfully as she sits on the couch, cracking her back in the process and letting out a relieved sigh. He tilts his head, curiously watching her. She’s so effortlessly beautiful, it makes Henry wonder how he hasn’t noticed it before. The way her smile carves dimples in the corner of her lips, or how she scrunches her nose a little when she laughs. The way her eyes would sparkle with some genuine emotion, as if she were wearing her heart on her sleeve, and how she’d run a hand through her hair whenever she’d shy away from something. It takes Henry’s breath away to just think about every little detail of her his brain seems to pick up on, and by the time his eyes drift to her lips, those perfect lips, he’s already too far gone; completely smitten with her. 

Y/N notices it, in the way he looks at her with that lovestruck gleam in his brown eyes, and her heart breaks a little. Her smile falters just in the slightest, because her brain reminds her that what she sees isn’t real. It’s the love pollen, and she mentally curses herself for hoping it would be real. The hissing sound of the hidden door in the wall across from where she sits brings Y/N back to reality. She lets her hand fall to her side, Henry’s disgruntled whine reaching her ears, but she can’t bring herself to look at him. Her touch lingers on Henry’s skin, and he tries to reach for her hand again, but she doesn’t let him, shifting in her seat so that her back is facing him. Henry grunts softly, resolving himself to resting his chin on her right shoulder instead. Y/N focuses her gaze on the hidden door as it cracks open and out comes Charlotte, with a satisfied smile on her lips.

She looks at Y/N. “We did it.” She says as she sits down across from her friends. “We figured it out.”

“Really?” Y/N asks, hopeful. “You really did?”

Charlotte hums in response, placing a muffin on the table. Y/N raises a brow, moving around as she leans back into the couch again, crossing her arms over her chest. Henry, whose chin had slipped off of Y/N’s shoulder, takes it as his opportunity to be closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder again and wrapping an arm around Y/N’s midsection as he lazily waves his free hand in Charlotte’s direction to greet her.

“Is this a joke?” Y/N deadpans, tilting her chin towards the muffin.

“Nope.” Charlotte answers, popping out the ‘p’.

“Indulge me.”

“Well, while you were asleep, Ray went back to the old warehouse to retrieve the weapon Henry’s been hit with. Turns out there were residuals from the blast and Schwoz managed to extract the love pollen from it.” Y/N nods her head, allowing Charlotte to continue. “He used it to create an antidote, but I figured Henry wouldn’t take it willingly.”

“So you baked him a muffin with the antidote in it?” Charlotte hums in response. “Alright, so he just has to eat it, and then he’ll no longer have feelings for me?”

“That’s right.”

Y/N sighs. Finally. Not that she hated the attention he’d been giving her, but it wasn’t real, and she couldn’t do that to her heart; pretend all of this was real. It wasn’t fair to her, and it certainly wasn’t fair to Henry, who probably had no idea of what’s happening. She runs a hand over her face, closing her eyes briefly.

“Are you sure it will work?” Y/N asks then.

“Only one way to find out.” Charlotte smiles. “Are you okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Y/N raises a brow.

“Well, you’re not exactly the best at hiding your emotions. And I’m not stupid. I can tell you like him, that you have for a while.”

Y/N sighs, but she nods. “I’m okay with it.” She takes the muffin in her hand. “It’s not fair to him, he probably has no idea what’s happening.”

“But will you be okay, after?”

Y/N nods again. In all honesty, she isn't sure that she will be. Because how can she pretend that nothing happened, when it reawakened feelings within her? She can’t ignore the fluttering in her stomach when Henry is around, not anymore. She can’t ignore the way she felt when he had his arms around her; safe. And there is a part of her, deep down, that hopes what she saw in his eyes, in his affection for her, is real.

She inhales sharply, shaking her head slowly to chase away her intrusive thoughts before she nudges Henry’s side gently with her elbow. He lifts his head up from her shoulder, blinking away the sleep in his eyes, and he smiles when he sees the muffin in her hand.

“It's a banana nut.” Y/N says simply, a small smile on her lips.

Henry smiles back, taking the muffin from her. He doesn’t waste another minute before he takes a bite. It’s still warm in his mouth, freshly out of the oven, and he sighs in delight, closing his eyes. 

“How long before we know if it worked?” Y/N asks Charlotte, turning her head towards her.

“I don’t know, Schwoz didn’t s–”

Charlotte stops herself, eyes widening slightly when Henry begins to cough uncontrollably. Y/N sits upright, adrenaline shooting through her system as her fight or flight instincts kick in, and she angles her body towards Henry, firmly placing both her hands on his shoulders to keep him steady. She can see the tears prickling in the corner of his eyes from his coughing fit, and how he presses one hand into his chest to try and relieve the pain. She moves her hands to cup his face and hold his gaze to hers, a gentle smile across her lips. She begins to breathe slowly, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, tilting her chin in Henry’s direction to ask him to do the same. He blinks, moving his hands up to wrap his fingers around her wrists to ground himself – the muffin long since fallen between their legs onto the couch, and Henry’s lips slightly part as he takes a deep breath through his nose. Y/N tries her best to ignore the feel of his touch against her skin as a shiver runs down her spine.

When he feels he can breathe properly again, Henry blinks, letting his hands fall from Y/N’s wrists. He feels her touch leave his cheeks and he tilts his head slightly, eyes boring into hers.

“Are you okay, Hen?” She asks, and he can hear the worry in her voice.

He frowns, nodding. “Y– yeah. Wh– what happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Charlotte asks then, furtively glancing at Y/N.

“Not really, no. Weren’t we supposed to catch Dr. Lover or something?”

“We did.” Y/N tells him, taking a sudden interest in her lap. “He’s back in jail.”

“Alright! That’s a good day’s work.”

“Yeah…”

Henry’s frowns deepen, hearing the slight disappointment in his friend’s voice. His eyes dart to Charlotte, confusion swirling in his chocolate irises, but Charlotte shrugs, shaking her head. It’s not her place to tell.

“You okay, Y/N?” Henry asks her, trying to reach for her hand.

Y/N nods, standing up. “Y– yeah, just tired. I’m gonna head home.”

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

“No, it’s fine Henry. I’m just– yeah.”

Y/N shakes her head, walking over to the elevator. She picks up her backpack from the floor, her fingers pushing the up button on the panel to her right, and the doors open with a loud creak. She grimaces at the sound, stepping inside the elevator and pressing the ground floor button to Junk’N’Stuff, the fake store a half-mile up the Man Cave, and the doors close behind her. She only allows herself to breathe again when she’s certain neither Charlotte nor Henry can see her, and the tears slowly begin to roll down her cheeks. She knew Henry might not remember anything; she knew he still did not remember the whole muffin fiasco, even after two years. She didn’t want to be selfish, but as the elevator goes up to the fake store, Y/N wishes Henry hadn’t eaten that muffin.

Back in the Man Cave, Henry frowns and shifts in his seat on the couch to face Charlotte. He can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong; that Y/N lied. It’s the way she walked away from him, how she’d averted her eyes from his by lowering her head down. It’s the little hesitation in her voice, and the way her shoulders tensed when she’d gotten up. Something had upset her, and she lied to him about it. He just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He has to find out.

“Is Y/N okay?” He asks Charlotte. “Did I do something?”

“What do you remember about today?” Charlotte queries instead, tilting her head.

“Wh– what do you mean?”

“What’s the last thing you remember, before choking on a muffin?”

Henry ponders her question for a minute. He runs a hand across his face, trying to focus the racing thoughts in his mind. He knows they’d been looking for Dr. Lover, who’d escaped from prison, and that their best lead had been the old warehouse near the Swellview border. He remembers going there, in his Kid Danger suit, with Menace and Captain Man, and he remembers being the first one to enter the warehouse.

“I remember going to that old warehouse with Ray and Y/N.” Henry says eventually. “To catch Dr. Lover. And then, I was choking on a muffin on this couch.”

“So… you don’t remember anything that happened between then, and now?” Charlotte trails out, studying him.

“Nope. Why? Did something happen?”

Just as Charlotte was about to answer him, the sprocket hisses open and the two friends turn their heads towards it. Ray steps out, shoving his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Did it work?” Ray asks when he looks up to the two teenagers.

“Did what work?” Henry wonders. “What’s going on?”

“Oh yeah, it worked.” Charlotte affirms, nodding.

“Ray. What. Worked?” Henry asks again through gritted teeth.

“He doesn’t remember anything?”

Charlotte nods at Ray. “Doesn’t seem like it. The last thing he remembers is going to that old warehouse with you and Y/N.”

“I’m right here!” Henry protests, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ray sighs, running a hand across his face as he makes his way towards the couch, jumping over the backrest to sit between Charlotte and Henry. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asks, noticing the absence of his other sidekick.

“She left.” Charlotte answers. “Said she was tired and that she was heading home.”

Ray nods. “Well Kid,” He sighs then, putting a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “You got hit by Dr. Lover’s love weapon.”

“Wh– what?” Henry blinks, confused.

“Dr. Lover was already waiting for us in that warehouse, and he blasted you with his weapon when you went inside. You were knocked out for a good ten minutes before you came back to your senses. Y/N even had to give you some mouth to mouth to bring you back.”

“Sh– she had to– what?”

Ray ignores Henry’s panicking tone. “Any-Ray, it turns out that the blast from Dr. Lover’s weapon was filled with love pollen and similar chemicals to Gwen’s love muffins from two years ago. You’ve been infatuated with Y/N since this morning, Kid.”

“Until you ate that muffin, which had an antidote that Schwoz and I came up with to counteract the effects from the weapon’s blasts.” Charlotte concludes, her gaze softening.

Henry’s face pales as he slowly realises what has happened since they went to that old warehouse. Granted, he has no memory of it, but he can still picture what might have happened since this morning. His eyes drift back to the closed elevator doors, a pang of guilt latching onto his heart as he thinks of Y/N. The ghost of her touch still lingers on his cheeks, making his stomach flutters. He remembers the worry hidden in her words after he’d almost choked on the banana nut muffin, and the way her eyes searched for his as she held his face in her hands while he tried to catch his breath. He remembers how she’d pulled her hand away from his as she stood up from the couch, casting her eyes to the ground as she slowly made her way to the elevator. He can still hear the falter in her voice when she’d declined his offer to walk her back home, and he thinks about how it bothered him when she left without saying goodbye. He frowns, lips pressed together in a line across his features, the gears working in his brain.

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh my god.” Henry breathes out as the realization hits him. “Oh my god!”

“What, what, what?” Ray blurts out, raising his hands up in alarm.

Henry ignores his boss to look at Charlotte. “Y/N has feelings for me, doesn’t she?”

Charlotte hums softly, giving her friend a small smile. She watches as he runs a hand through his hair, eyes blown wide in panic as the truth of what happened dwells on him. She is surprised he has figured it out, considering that he’s been oblivious to Y/N’s longing stares for the past year. 

“I– I have to talk to her.” Henry tells himself as he stands up from the couch.

But just as he goes to head for the elevator, the emergency alarm goes off across the Man Cave, and Henry throws his head back as he groans in annoyance. Charlotte is quick on her feet to check on the supercomputer’s screen as Ray reaches for his gumtube in the front pocket of his jeans. Henry does the same, throwing a round gum in his mouth before blowing a bubble after a couple of minutes to change into his Kid Danger uniform. Charlotte spins around the chair she sits in, glancing at the two heroes as they stand under the tubes.

“Where are we headed Charlotte?” Ray asks.

“The old warehouse again.” Charlotte frowns, looking towards Ray over her shoulder. “It might be Gwen.” She then suggests, pointing a finger at her boss.

“Might be. Will you–”

“I’ll call Y/N.” Charlotte interrupts him, smiling. “Tell her to meet you there.”

—

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

Henry asks when they find themselves alone in the Man Cave. Charlotte had gone home after they’d come back from their emergency call, and Jasper was upstairs in Junk’N’Stuff, closing up the store. Ray had disappeared behind the sprocket, going about his business that neither Henry nor Y/N had any interest in knowing, while Schwoz had gone in his lab to tinker on a new weapon he was creating for Captain Man and his sidekicks. 

Henry keeps replaying the events from just an hour earlier as he looks at Y/N, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and awaiting her answer. It had been Gwen, in the old warehouse, trying to get her hands on Dr. Lover’s chemically-altered weapons. Henry thought she’d put up a fight to defend herself, and he was surprised when she surrendered herself to Captain Man. At least he thought she did, until she drew out one of Dr. Lover’s smaller weapons from her pocket and aimed it at the three of them alternatively. He’d felt how Y/N tensed next to him when her eyes caught the weapon, planting her feet into the ground and raising her arms slightly in a fighting stance. Before he knew it, the fight was over and Gwen had been handcuffed by Ray, but Henry’s eyes found Y/N then, and the gash in her Menace uniform on her forearm. It had bothered him when she got mad because he’d worried about her; about if she were hurt. His heart had broken a little when she’d stomped out of the room, mumbling insults under her breath that he couldn’t catch on. The whole way back, she hadn’t spoken to him and it bothered him, because they always used to joke around in the Man Van after an emergency, waiting for Captain Man to be done with his statement for the police.

Henry shakes his head, pushing away the memories to the back of his mind as his eyes drift to her. Y/N sits on the round couch, head resting against the backrest as she glances at him behind her through her eyelashes. She hums in answer, nodding her head slightly. Henry takes a deep breath, wiping his moist hands against the fabric of his pants before he takes a seat next to her, their knees touching. He holds his breath, waiting for her to suddenly move away from him, but he is pleasantly surprised when instead she rolls her head a little, resting it on his shoulder. He doesn’t know why she does it, but he can see the exhaustion on her face, and he tells himself that she’s tired and probably only half-conscious of her actions. His eyes land for a brief minute on the white bandage around her forearm, and he fidgets with his hands, shoulders dropping slightly as he racks his brain for the right words to say.

“I– I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable today.” Henry says, eventually. “I had no idea what I was doing.”

“I know.” Y/N whispers, and he feels her nod her head against his shoulder. “That was the love pollen. I may have overreacted.” She yawns, blinking. “What happened today doesn’t change a thing, Hen. You’re still my best friend.”

Her words calm his nerves, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of his chest. Still, it bothers him. It bothers him that she called him her best friend, because he wants to be more than that. He might not remember all that has happened today, but he can’t say that what he’d been feeling was fake. Even if he were under the influence of the love pollen, his feelings had to come from somewhere and deep down, he knew that he couldn’t deny it. 

“I don’t want to be just friends.” Henry blurts out in a whisper.

“Wh– what?” Y/N lifts her head, raising her brows at him.

“I don’t– I don’t want to be just friends.”

“You– don’t?”

Henry shakes his head. “I asked Schwoz about the love pollen when we came back from our emergency call, after he patched you up. I know he told you and everyone that the love pollen makes you fall in love with the first person you see, or kiss.”

“Y– yeah, I know that.”

“What he didn’t tell you guys–” Henry continues, holding her gaze to his. “– is that the love pollen combined with chemicals similar to the love muffins influences feelings that are already there. If I hadn’t been in love with you already, I don’t think Dr. Lover’s weapon would have worked on me.”

Y/N blinks, trying to process Henry’s words through her brain. Did he say he was in love with her?

“You– you’re in love with me?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her irises swirl with something hopeful in them as Henry looks at her. He cracks a smile, carving a dimple in his left cheek, and he brings the palm of his hands to her cheeks, brushing his thumbs against her cheekbones. His eyes drift to her lips as he leans in, his hands moving from her cheeks to hold the sides of her face. His lips find hers as he closes his eyes, his heart skipping a beat. Y/N’s eyes widen in shock, but her brain is surprisingly quick to process what’s happening, and every fiber of her body relaxes as she closes her eyes, her arms finding their way around Henry’s neck. He is the first one to pull away when they both get out of breath, but his hands stay on her face, the warmth of his palms spreading through her skin. Soft pants escape her lips as she looks at him through her eyelashes, moving her arms around so that her hands lay flat on his chest and she can feel the steady beat of his heart under her right palm.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He whispers. “I have been since the day you got stuck in the eighties.”

Y/N chuckles, remembering that day. Then, “I’m in love with you, too, Hen.” She whispers back, her eyes fluttering shut as she leans in to kiss him once more.

ⓒ writerinlearning – 2025

[lovelyjoyous]

sub wonyoung getting punished by her mommy for acting like a brat, edging her in multiple ways, fingering or eating her out, even slapping her pussy, until both came by squirting on each other cunts

Sub!Wonyoung X dom!Reader

Warnings! top service! Reader, bottom service! Wonyoung, cunnilingus, fingering, slaps, scissors, dubcon!!, mommy kink, overstimulation, squirting.

Wonyoung acted like a brat all day, especially when your friends were visiting you.

She would bounce on your lap and then pretend nothing had happened, giving you that smirk when you told her to stop.

When you grabbed her arm and told her to behave in front of the others, she didn't even pretend to care.

Silly girl, thought you weren't serious. She kept teasing you, flirting with your friends as if you weren't even there.

So, as soon as everyone left, you threw her on the couch — not having the patience to go up to your room.

You almost ripped her clothes off, listening only to her murmurs asking you to go slow. As if you were really going to hear her.

You ignored whether she was ready or not and stuck three fingers in at once.

The sight of her arching her back, biting her lips and squeezing her eyes shut was enough for you to keep going.

The force of your movements made the wet sound echo through the house.

You forced her to keep her legs open, even when she tried to close them over and over.

Moaning your name, breathing heavily, trying to push you away — but never hard enough.

She kept saying “Please stop.”, but her body was telling you different things.

Fucked brain, rolling her eyes and squeezing your wrist as you fucked her the way she needed but didn't want to admit it.

Her attempts to slow down your hand or close her legs only irritated you more.

You stopped for a second, but before she could say anything, you came with slaps on her pussy that made her tremble, scream and have tears in her eyes.

Seeing her in that state — trembling, crying, without any of the arrogance of before — was exactly what you wanted.

You eat her messily, because she looked simply delicious.

Her hands in your hair, pulling you tightly while all she could do was follow a disjointed thought.

Sometimes she would mutter phrases like:

“Mommy, that’s so good.”

“Please, please mommy.”

“Fuck mommy, I’m sorry.”

You would stop only to give her more slaps, as if she wasn’t red and sensitive enough.

You continued between fucking and sucking until she came at least five times, her legs shaking so much that you almost felt sorry for her.

You calmed her down, saying that you were almost done — but she couldn’t even think anymore.

You took off your pants in a hurry, because you were also at your limit.

You rubbed your pussy against hers so fast that the girl’s soft body moved against the couch.

She was so wet that the friction between your clits was easy, intense, perfect.

You moaned her name, and that brought her back.

Seeing you riding her made her wake up right away.

You threw your head back, not wanting to stop, not slowing down.

And Wonyoung didn't help — she called you mommy in a way that made you see stars.

When she repeatedly warned you that she was going to cum, she took you with her.

You both squirted at the same time, wetting the couch (you would take care of that later).

When you went to talk to her, you realized that she had fallen asleep — or maybe passed out — due to overstimulation.

In the end, you cleaned her up carefully, put on some comfortable pajamas, and believed that she had learned her lesson.

Or maybe not. Maybe she would do it all over again, just to be punished again.

[luvvixu]

typical date / s. gojo

two second years go on a date (this time for real)

you two are currently in a small festival, somewhere in tokyo's outskirts.

it was clear that satoru uses his teleportation to get you two here because no way in hell—you're gonna let him drive. because first, he doesn't have a license. and second, that's basically asking for death!

and you honestly didn’t know why you agreed. maybe it was the way gojo looked after you said “okay” when he asked you to take you out for a real date. or maybe it was the fact that—even through all his idiocy, he made you feel like you could actually breathe.

the festival lights glowed warm against the evening sky. lanterns swayed gently above the stalls. laughter and the scent of grilled mochi and fried food floated in the air.

satoru was dressed up in a simple black hoodie and jeans, and his glasses, but he somehow looked like he stepped out of a magazine.

“you clean up nice,” you muttered.

he beamed. “so do you. and hey, this time no curses, no chaos, no yaga. just you and me and potentially overpriced snacks.”

you rolled your eyes. “if you blow all your allowance on candy apples and crepe cakes, i’m leaving you.”

“noted,” he nodded. “restraint is sexy.”

you weren’t expecting to enjoy it so much.

he walked beside you without trying to fill the silence. he didn’t pressure you to talk, didn’t force jokes. just occasionally said something dumb that made you huff a laugh. bought you your favorite treat before you even asked. got ketchup on his sleeve while eating yakiniku on skewers and pretended it was a mortal wound.

at one point, you both stood quietly watching a fireworks display, the glow painting his face in soft light.

he turned to you. “thanks for coming.”

you tilted your head slightly. “you literally bang on my room and teleport us here the moment i was done preparing. but yeah, thanks for not scaring away the entire crowd this time.”

“you’re welcome,” he chuckled.

then he paused.

“…can i hold your hand?”

you blinked. then, slowly—so slowly—you slid your hand into his.

satoru was still. then grinned like an idiot.

teenage love was messy. loud. chaotic.

but sometimes, when the lights were warm, and your hand fit just right into someone else's—it was also quietly perfect.

——

the fireworks were done, but the buzz lingered in the air.

people moved around you in slow motion, laughter echoing from a nearby game booth. children ran past with sparklers. lanterns floated above like stars that refused to stay in the sky.

your hand was still in satorus.

you could let go. but you didn’t.

“hey,” he whispered, giving your hand a slight squeeze, “you know if this was an anime, this is the part where we’d accidentally get separated in the crowd and spend ten episodes trying to find each other.”

you glanced at him. “so dramatic.”

“ten episodes, y/n. filler arc. flashbacks. emotional monologues. and a reunion under the rain. and oh! we could also get a beach arc where i could see you in bikini!”

“okay. the last one was weird and you’re literally holding my hand.”

“i know,” he beamed, “i'm ruining the plot. but I don’t mind.”

you shook your head, but there was the smallest smile tugging at your lips again—the kind he was starting to live for.

you walked past a row of festival games. his eyes immediately locked onto the goldfish scooping stall.

“i’m doing it,” he said, already dragging you there.

"you're going to break the net.”

“i’ve trained for this,” he whispered, holding the paper net like it was a sacred relic. “trust me.”

one net: rip

second net: soggy failure

by the third net, you were already laughing as satoru crouched down, tongue poking out in concentration like a five-year-old.

“y/n, i wear, if this fish escapes me again—”

“it’s swimming in a circle, gojo.”

“deception tactics,” he muttered.

somehow—miraculously—he caught one.

he turned to you, beaming, holding up the tiny bag. “for you, m’lady.”

you blinked. “you’re giving me a fish?”

he nodded seriously. “his name is james. james pond-gojo”

“…i’m not calling him that.”

“you have to. it’s our first child.”

you just stared at him.

he grinned wider.

——

later, the two of you sat at the edge of a raised walkway, feet dangling off the side as people bustled below. the festival is winding down now. the night had a hush to it.

satoru let out a long breath. “this was nice.”

you glanced sideways at him.

he wasn’t joking or teasing this time. he looked content. genuinely.

and the way he looked at you in that moment—soft, vulnerable, eyes behind his glasses glowing faintly with something real—made your chest ache a little.

“do you do this with all the girls you flirt with?” you asked, voice low but steady.

he turned to you slowly, a grin forming—but gentler this time.

“i don’t flirt with all the girls i like,” he said. “just you.”

your heart stumbled in its rhythm.

he leaned back on his palms, head tilted to the sky. “i think i like you more than i thought i could like someone.”

you didn’t answer right away.

then you leaned your head against his shoulder.

not looking at him. just staying there. quiet.

his mouth opened like he wanted to say something else. but he didn’t.

he just rested his head gently on top of yours.

and the world—the missions, the curses, the training, the teasing—faded away.

it was just you. and him. and a stupid bag of goldfish in your lap named james pond-gojo.

and satoru thought, for the first time in a long time, that he didn’t need to be the strongest here.

he just needed to be enough for you.

more teenage!gojo romance

©luvvixu2025

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go… Take My Binder Off First

Pairing : Eddie Munson x Male Trans reader Tags: Trans Reader, Mentions of weed, Fluff, Established relationship Word count :1061

Eddie watched (insert name) sink further into the nest of blankets and pillows he'd assembled on his bed. The air hung thick with the sweet, hazy scent of weed, mingling with the ever-present aroma of stale cigarettes and hairspray that permeated Wayne's trailer. Outside, the crickets chirped their incessant Hawkins lullaby.

(Insert name) mumbled something unintelligible, eyes fluttering shut. A smile tugged at Eddie's lips. (Insert name) was beautiful, even half-stoned and on the precipice of sleep. The soft light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the gentle curve of his cheekbones. He looked… peaceful.

A flicker of concern cut through Eddie's fondness. “Hey,” he said softly, nudging (insert name)’s shoulder gently. “Hey, man, before you totally conk out.”

(Insert name) groaned, swatting vaguely at Eddie’s hand. “Mmm… five more minutes…”

“No can do, sleepyhead. You gotta… you gotta take that thing off first.” Eddie gestured awkwardly towards (insert name)'s chest, trying to keep his tone light.

(Insert name) opened one eye, regarding Eddie with a bleary, half-lidded stare. “'S too much effort, Eddie. Comfy.”

Eddie ran a hand through his own tangled hair, the metal of his rings clicking together. This was always a delicate dance. He knew (insert name) didn't always love being reminded, but Eddie also knew how much more uncomfortable it would be to sleep in his binder.

He picked at a loose thread on his ripped denim vest. “I know, I know, but it's gonna be way worse if you sleep in it, dude. Trust me. Ribs and all that jazz.”

(Insert name) groaned again, a longer, more drawn-out sound this time. “You just wanna see me naked, Munson. Admit it.” He said, his voice thick with sleep and laced with playful accusation.

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly . “Please, baby. I've seen you naked. Many times. I was just thinking about your well-being.”

But the truth was, yeah, he did. He loved the way (insert name)’s skin felt under his hands, the way he looked in the soft light. The genuine joy that would spread across (insert name)'s face when he felt comfortable and safe., he had the utmost respect for (insert name)’s body. It was a constant learning process, navigating (insert name)'s boundaries and desires, but Eddie was more than willing to put in the effort.

(Insert name) mumbled something else, his eyes drifting shut again. Eddie sighed. He knew this drill.

He reached over and gently shook (insert name)’s shoulder again, more insistent this time. “(Insert name). Come on. Just for a sec. I’ll even… I’ll even play ‘Iron Man’ backwards for you.”

That seemed to do the trick. (Insert name) cracked an eye open again, a reluctant smile playing on his lips. “Black Sabbath is the superior band, Munson. You know this.”

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play Paranoid backwards. Deal? Now, upsy-daisy.” He tugged gently at (insert name)’s arm, helping him sit up.

(Insert name) grumbled as he reached under his shirt, the familiar sounds of the binder’s being removed echoing in the small room. Eddie busied himself by straightening the already-messy blankets, giving (insert name) some space.

He knew (insert name) had a complicated relationship with his body. Eddie knew some of it was dysphoria, the feeling of disconnect between his inner self and his physical form. He knew because (insert name) had carefully, hesitantly, explained it to him one night, after too much cheap beer and a shared cigarette on Wayne’s porch. Eddie had listened, really listened, trying to understand the depth of (insert name)’s experience. He would never pretend to fully comprehend, but he would always try.

And he knew some of it was just… societal bullshit. The pressure to conform to some ridiculous, outdated standard of masculinity. Eddie, who had never given a damn about conforming to anything, found himself fiercely protective of (insert name).

Finally, the binder was off, tossed carelessly onto the floor. (Insert name) slumped back against the pillows, breathing a visible sigh of relief.

Eddie glanced over, trying to gauge (insert name)’s mood. He still looked tired and a little out of it, but there was a definite relaxation in his posture.

He grabbed one of his well-worn Black Sabbath t-shirts from the pile on the floor – oversized, faded black, and smelling faintly of Eddie himself – and tossed it to (insert name).

(Insert name) caught it with surprising reflexes, despite his drowsy state. He looked at the shirt, then back at Eddie, a small smile playing on his lips. “Generous of you, Munson.”

“What can I say? I’m a giver.” Eddie grinned, trying to inject some levity into the situation. “Besides, you look better in it anyway.”

(Insert name) chuckled, pulling the shirt over his head. The fabric swallowed him whole, the hem falling almost to his knees. He looked impossibly small and vulnerable in Eddie’s oversized shirt, and Eddie’s heart clenched.

“Thanks, Eddie.” (Insert name)’s voice was soft, sincere.

Eddie shrugged, trying to mask the intensity of his feelings with a casual gesture. “No problem,baby. Now, get some sleep. You’re starting to drool on my Dio poster.”

(Insert name) snorted, settling back into the pillows. He was asleep within minutes, his breathing evening out, his face relaxed.

Eddie watched him for a long moment, a complex mix of affection, tenderness, and protective instinct swirling inside him. He carefully adjusted the blankets around (insert name), making sure he was warm and comfortable. He picked up the discarded binder, folding it neatly and placing it on the floor beside the bed. He knew it was a temporary fix, a small gesture, but it was the best he could do in the moment.

He turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into near-darkness, the only light coming from the sliver of moon visible through Wayne’s dusty window. He crawled into bed beside (insert name), careful not to jostle him.

He lay there for a while, listening to (insert name)’s soft breathing, the rhythmic chirping of the crickets, the distant rumble of a car driving down the highway. The trailer felt small, cramped, and utterly… safe.

He reached out, tentatively, and brushed a stray strand of hair from (insert name)’s forehead. (Insert name) stirred slightly, nuzzling into the touch. Eddie smiled.

[jeonjaemark]

christmas bribes || yoon jeonghan

content warning: highly suggestive of sexual themes, MDNI, some fluff // masterlist

for the better half of the afternoon i have been browsing from one store to the next with jeonghan. jolly christmas songs drill into my head as we hope from store to store. various snowflakes and giant ornaments hang down from the ceiling along strings of twinkling lights. luckily the mall isn’t as crowded today around this time even after school is over and some people were rushing to go home after work. today’s mission was to finish shopping for the holiday season and begin wrapping presents.

i take a sip of my iced latte when a soft groan echoes behind me. i skim through another rack of clothes fighting back a chuckle. when i glance back i find jeonghan searching around the store for a place to sit. he sways from side to side at the soft pop holiday mix being played through the speakers.

“y/n, how long do i have go carry these bags around? we have been shopping and walking nonstop for hours.” he whines.

“we haven’t been shopping that long.” i push a shirt back on the rack to see the design better.

“yes, we have. it’s been two hours already. i have already been told five times from my apple watch to sit down and relax.”

“then you can just sit and relax until i am done.” i tease.

he glares at me, not pleased with my playful attitude. i knew was pushing his energy by staying out longer in the mall than i had originally planned. however i couldn’t turn away from all the clothes and other items in the store. it’s funny how when i am shopping for myself i literally can’t find anything, but when i am shopping for anyone else the store suddenly has cute items. jeonghan huffs a breath again displeased with me. he is always a bit cranky when he doesn’t get his nap on time.

“if you can give me ten more minutes then we can leave. also i can give you your surprise back at the apartment for being such an amazing boyfriend and shopping with me.”

“what kind of surprise?” he raises a suspicious eyebrow.

“if i tell you then it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.” i kiss his cheek before disappearing into a new rack of clothes to look at.

———

“y/n! honey! where are you?”

“hannie! i am in here!” i shout from the spare room.

the door swings open and jeonghan walks in. his feet dragging behind him against the carpet covered in wrapped presents, scotch tape and ripped up pieces of wrapping paper. his eyes wander around the floor but the brown orbs stare a little longer at the stacked up gifts. he stood next to me and runs his hand down my back.

“do you feel better now that you’ve had your nap, grumpy?” i lean up to kiss him.

“ha ha ha. funny.” he rolls his eyes taking a seat. “how long have you’ve been wrapping gifts.”

“about forty-five minutes or so now. i couldn’t really get up from cuddling with you on the bed.”

“does that mean, i can steal you away for a break?” his fingers tracing soft circles into my back.

“you want your surprise, don’t you?” i arch an eyebrow.

“i didn’t stay at the mall for an extra ten minutes for nothing.” he hissed.

“you’re terrible. i am now debating if your surprise is worth giving.” i giggle getting to my feet. “you have to close your eyes first before i give it to you.”

jeonghan covers his eyes with hands. i rummage around the closet looking for a small box. the corners of my lips rise seeing jeonghan patiently cover his eyes with his legs criss crossed on the carpet. i hold back the temptation to kiss his cheek while he waited. i drop the bag onto his lap and he looks down.

“look at what i got your sister.”

“your surprise for me is the surprise christmas gift you’re getting my sister.”

“yeah, isn’t it a cute outfit for her to wear? i think she’ll look very stylish.”

jeonghan tosses a pillow at me from the couch. i squeal catching the pillow in my hands.

“you’re terrible. first you take me shopping without buying me a pretzel. second you bribe me. third you make the surprise i was bribed with about my sister.”

“you still love me even if i am terrible.”

“you’re right but that doesn’t mean i can’t be disappointed with y—“

i drop a small bag onto his lap and he takes it pulling out two white shirt with a cute bunny dressed in an elf costume. the last few trips to the mall jeonghan has picked up the shirt but always puts it down before leaving. today while shopping earlier i noticed jeonghan picking up the shirt and carrying it around the store but he ended up putting the shirt down again. when he wasn’t looking, i picked up the shirts and went straight to checkout with the other things i bought.

“you got us matching shirts?”

“yes, you love it when we match.”

“i love matching with cheol.” he deadpans.

“you know what, maybe i should return the gift or maybe i should give to one of the other members to match with.” i snatched the shirt from him. “i heard seokmin likes to do matching couple things.”

jeonghan chuckles and wraps his hand around my wrist pulling me back. warm shivers run down my spine at his touch making butterflies fly around my stomach. i topple into his lap. he secures his arms around my waist to keep me from leaving him.

“honey, i am kidding. i love the shirts. the fact we are matching makes it even more special.”

“really?”

“yeah. it’s just i was hoping my surprise was going to be you.” he scratches the back of his neck.

“oh, that’s not much of a surprise but it can be arranged.” i smirk, feeling his hands squeezing my waist.

jeonghan pulls me closer capturing his lips against mine. i turn my body to straddle his waist hooking my arms around his neck. his hands roam my body as i ground my hips to his. a soft groan escapes my mouth at the thrilling feeling of his hard on brushing my clothed core. his fingers slip under my top reaching for my breast. he massages softly at first then moves more rough earning himself a few moans. i slide off my top giving him better access to my breast. his lips trail down my neck to my collarbone.

my brain was too fogged to even realize his other hand had slipped down between my thighs. his fingers brushing against my throbbing core. he wastes no time pushing aside my shorts and panties my head falls back at the stretch. i can’t remember the last time i felt this good.

“who knew wrapping and opening presents can be such a turn on for you.” he chuckles feeling his words vibrate as he nips at my chest.

“must be a newly discovered kink.” i breathed.

jeonghan captures my lips again. one second he’s kissing like we have all the time in world and the next he’s kissing me like his life depends on it. the back and forth had my head spinning. the doorbell goes off. i pull away from him for a second but he brings my face back to his. the doorbell goes off again and after a minute it rings again.

“hannie, that’s the takeout i order for us. one of us should go get it.” i press my hand against his chest.

“can’t we just ignore them? we were kind building up to something here.” he mutters out annoyance.

“not unless you want to deal with hangry me. i promise you there will be many more building up to things if you feed me first.”

“i will go get the door.” he gently places me on the side and gets to his feet.

“you know with the food we consume we’ll have more energy for our late night activities.” i call out.

“stop teasing me. it’s means.” he shouts back making me laugh.

[heeheeswifey]

work rival heeseung!headcannons

MDNI!!

jealousy, jealousy...

work rival!heeseung who's just a jackass to you, tripping you over his foot whenever you two met at your workplace.

work rival!heeseung who was also a big perv, his dick getting wet at the thought of you bent over for him.

work rival!heeseung who asks you to remake the perfect presentation you had made.

work rival!heeseung who had the audacity to invite you to his celebratory party after the deal between the 2 companies was secured.

work rival!heeseung who was tightly gripping his wine glass, seeing you giggling with a man, that wasn't him...

work rival!heeseung who was aware of your little 'crush' on him, he thought you were so naïve!

work rival!heeseung who had lost it after the cute guy put his hand on your thigh, leaning in slightly.

work rival!heeseung who walked up to you two, harshly gripping your arm and dragging you away.

work rival!heeseung who locked the door to his office, planning to take you raw..

"w-what are you doing, heeseung...stop it!" You say, trying to stop him from bending you over his desk, manicured nails clawing at him arms harshly.. "y'wanna act like a fucking slut? I'll treat you like one." he seethes, ripping your panties apart, shoving them in his back pocket before shoving his thick fingers into you. your pussy was so, so warm, and so hot...just as he imagined. "you could've asked me to fuck you if y'wanted it that bad, pretty. Getting all up on another man was unnecessary." he coos, thick fingers pushing in and out and in and out your aching hole. "m'sorry, hee...I'll be good- p-please fuck me!" you mewl, clenching continuously around his fingers as you drenched them in your sweet cream.. "look at you, didn't even last five fuckin minutes.." he states, stuffing his coated fingers in his mouth, sucking explicitly loud on them. he didn't think twice as he made you arch your back deeper, pulling his painfully hard cock out of his pants quickly. "please..I want it...I want you inside me- hnngh!~" you whimper as he slides his dick into your gaping cunt. Using his tongue to lick 4 of his fingers, he covered them in his wet slobber before rubbing your clit languidly. "What a whore, can't stop hopping on other dicks, when she's got one for herself..fucking greedy lil' cunt.." he breathes, tugging on your hair relentlessly as he plowed into your cunt at a ferocious pace. "hee! oh my fucking godddd!~" you mewled loudly, spit dribbling down your chin in big globs. "so fucking cockhungry...can't even talk properly, you slut." He whispers into your ear, pulling your head back even further as he spat into your awaiting mouth. he looked down to where you both were connected, seeing a wet mess. "I'm gonna cum...please- I'm cumming..I'm cummin'!~" you whine endlessly, squirting all over his hard cock, but he still didn't stop. "I'll make you squirt on my dick all night baby, your mine, yeah?" he says to you shooting spurts of his hot semen into your cunt. "I'm all yours, hee." you whisper, in a daze. You had no time to process anything as heeseung pulled you into his lap, as he was sitting on his office chair. putting an arm under your thighs, he pushed back into your messy cunt. "m'not done with you yet, baby.." he whispers, ramming into your cunt from underneath you. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your cunt was the only thing heard, echoing in the big room. "heeseung...I'm cumming, shit I'm gonna-!" your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you squirt all over his cock for a 2nd time, your jaw dropped slack. "want me to empty my balls inside you, whore? you'll be my lil' pocket pussy darling.." He questions, and before you could answer, his warm cum was already inside your cunt. he pulled out of your cunt only to press down on your stomach, making the cum leak out of you. "maybe I should fuck you again." he says to himself, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in. you were in for a long ride...

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Five

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Omg… I survived finals and all those unit exams. So here is chapter five after a long wait lol. It’s also a longish chapter because you guys are nice and deserve it.

Word Count: ~6.2k

Find: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

Day Eight - Christmas Day, 1970

Angus had retreated to the auditorium once again. He supposed he did so because it reminded him of simpler times. Like when he was nine and his biggest worry was if he would mess up on the sonata he was playing in front of his piano teacher. All because he could feel you in the other room, waiting for him to be done.

He was playing aimlessly and with no particular tune in mind. He just let his fingers glide wherever he felt like. It felt different to be there during the daylight, almost illegal. When he heard the creak of the auditorium doors, he had thought he had been caught. But it was just you, carrying that lavender plant you seemed to be so fond of. You held your potted plant close to your chest and walked up to the stage. He stopped playing to watch you and smiled a little at the sight.

“I kept my promise,” you show off the plant you had improvised decorations with. Little ribbons used for your hair are used as tinsel. There are small pieces of balled up color paper with a paperclip through them that work as ornaments. He could tell you tried not to be overzealous, trying to keep the plant from collapsing from the weight. You place the lavender on the piano and take a seat next to him.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he says back.

You sigh, “Weird party.”

“Yeah. Very weird.”

“I hope Marys alright.”

“Me too,” he sniffs.

He sees you pause to fix your hair. It sits unruly on you, and he can tell you just rolled out of bed. You still look beautiful.

“Um. You never answered my question. Last night…”

He stiffens, “Oh well. You didn’t either.”

You pressed your lips together, “So did you?”

“Did I what?”

You roll your eyes, “Did you feel, I don't know… Did you care? About Joseph?”

Now it's his turn to roll his eyes, “I don’t care about Joseph.”

“Okay. Fine. Then did you care about seeing me with him.”

Angus swallows thickly. He tries to find that sudden rush he felt during the party. The rush that had him so close to just reaching out to hold your cheeks in his hands and collide your lips into his.

He finds the rush in the way you squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue.

“Yeah, I was jealous,” he prays you won't rip your hand away from his. “Because I care about everything you do.”

You smile and almost look pleased. “I was… a bit too,” you admit, avoiding the word and tugging at the sleeves of your sweater.

Because you think of me that way too, because you think of me that way too, Angus chants in his head like a mantra.

“Because we’re friends?” You cross your arms and hug yourself tightly, gazing up at him through your lashes.

He thinks now that the rush must have been beaten into silence because his mouth stays close, unable to argue back.

“Yeah. ‘Cause we’re friends,” he nods affirmatively, although he has to pinch the side of his thigh to stop himself from crying. He drowns out the ache in his chest and turns into a physical manifestation. There are glass marbles running wild in his head, and they crash against it like a steel floor. They shatter into little bits and prick his mind, berating him for being so stupid, for falling into Elises false optimism, and believing for a second that anything he ever felt would be reciprocated.

A small sigh slips past your lips and Angus suspects it must have been out of relief. He pinches himself harder.

“It all felt like deja vu don’t you think?”

“Hmm?” An odd sound emerges from his throat.

“You and me, begging one another to not be replaced. We’re still the same as when we were fourteen.”

Still the same as we were. The words echoed around, bouncing off the walls of Barton. He can settle with being friends for the rest of his life, as long as it meant he kept having you. If he had to watch you be with someone else, he would suck it up. Like sinking his teeth into a slice of lime without wincing.

He would be fine with you treating him like a wildflower in your garden. He would come around each year, and grow over your tulips, competing for your attention. Practically shouting at you to deal with him. He could wither but come back year-round when you needed him the most. You could harvest him, prune him, press his petals against pages.

The point is you would need him as much as he needs you. …

Paul Huham woke up sick, but not in the way he had expected. He had expected a grinding headache and incredible vertigo. And after five glasses of Jim Beams, he also expected to slip on the ice of the sidewalk as he led Mary to the Nova last night. But he supposed that by now he must have built some sort of tolerance towards it.

Instead, this morning he felt void. He was completely depleted and unable to take his mind off what Miss Crane had said to him at the Christmas party. Mary’s words had definitely brought him back to earth. And although the night had ended… oddly, he still realized that what the two women had said was right.

Angus and Y/n were just kids. Nearly adults in terms of age sure, but still immature and sharing the behavior of one, nonetheless. Miss L/n undoubtedly seemed to deserve a proper celebration. It would be as a thank you of sorts for her ability to rein Mr. Tully in. And Angus Tully needed a moment of distraction from the treacheries of the holiday season. Paul could certainly relate to that.

So, with a groan, he got out of bed. He walked quickly to the bathroom to get his feet off the cold floor and get changed. Afterwards, he went to check in on them in their room.

He saw Y/n buried underneath two blankets. He could barely see her face and it was almost like she was entangled in her own cocoon. Angus however, laid crookedly and clutching a pillow close to his chest, his blanket discarded to the side. There were open drawers, littered pieces of trash on the floor and clothes on the ground. He really ought to remind you both to clean your room.

But confirming you two were asleep, Paul was able to begin the laborious process of getting the ice off his windshield. He then drives into town with the stereo off. He had heard enough Christmas music yesterday and didn’t feel like having jingle-bells grilled into his ear. He slows down as he nears the tree farm. It is empty compared to how it had been mid-November. Vividly he had remembered seeing the town families gathering around and choosing their tree. Kids roamed around as parents debated which trunk smelled the freshest. With the same level of enthusiasm those mothers and fathers had, we trudged up to the nearest worker.

“Merry Christmas,” he smiles awkwardly.

“Merry Christmas. What can I do for you, chief?”

“I’m looking for a tree.”

“Well, you came to the right place. Big fire sale on all remaining inventory.”

Paul hums and tries to find the least scrawny looking pine tree in the lot. He ends up purchasing

one that isn’t nearly as grand as the one Barton had in the dining hall. He then straps it to the top of his car's roof and drives back to the school.

“Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n,” he greets slightly energized by the morning air. He stops abruptly at the sight of the empty beds. There is still a visible dent from where the two had slept. Puzzled, he whirls around the room like they may appear out of thin air. He checks the other vacant rooms shouting out their names.

He stumbles his way into the kitchen where Mary is still in her pajamas, a piece of toast in one hand and a spatula in the other.

“Good morning.”

“Merry Christmas,” she corrects.

“Yeah. Merry Christmas, of course,” he lowers his voice, “How are you?”

“Well, I've got a case of the cocktail flu.”

“Uh, have you seen the kids?” he says with a bit of worry.

“Mm-mm,” she shakes her head and returns her attention to grilling the bacon.

Paul drops his head, “Goddammit, where the hell can they be?”

Hunham takes the search outside, yelling out to the campus quad that has been covered in white. He trudges to the school's theater wing, where he scampers up the stairs.

“Mr. Tully? Ms. L/n?” he pants as he reaches another floor level. He stops momentarily to listen to the music coming from the auditorium and follows the sounds. He had no idea they could do that.

He makes his presence known by slamming the door behind him shut. The piano stops and you both whirl around.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the two say in unison.

“Where the hell have you two been?”

“I don’t know. Just here,” Angus says.

“Come on. I have something to show you both.” …

You hold Angus' hand as you make your way back to the dining hall. His hands feel clammy. A little shaky too. Although yours weren’t any different. You felt like a ghost floating outside your own body.

When you had asked him the question, you had huddled into yourself. It was the closest thing to holding a shield over your heart. In your head you had thought that if you could just reach out and place your hand against his chest, then you wouldn’t have to ask anything at all. You would just be able to tell by the rhythm of his own thumping heart. You had prayed that he would argue against you. That he would say, ‘No. Not just because we’re friends.” But he hadn’t and now you know never to trust the words of a random man at a party.

But if you were reduced to that status for eternity, you supposed you would be able endure it. Truth was that you felt you felt greedy in ever wishing more from him. He could have brushed you off, labeled you as a snob and never have jumped into the ice-cold pool when you were seven. Yet, he hadn’t and to that you owed him.

Because you think that if he had never spoken to you, you would have spent your entire life watching things from a distance.

When you arrived at the mess hall, Mr. Hunham asked you two to wait before bringing out an irked Mary. She took a seat nearby as Hunham presented you with the bare tree and a few wrapped gifts underneath.

“No ornaments?” Angus frowns, unimpressed.

“Ornaments would diminish the Charlie Brown-esque of it,” you say. “All we really need is one giant red sphere.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can round up some ornaments somewhere,” Mr. Hunham pipes in and picks up one of the gifts, “Uh now… this is for you two.”

He hands you and Angus a rectangular package with a neat bow tied to keep it closed. You’re too surprised to open it but do so after you see Angus shift beside you.

Underneath your fingertips you hold, what you always believed, to be the holy grail of gifts. A book!

“Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. For my money, it’s like the Bible, the Koran and the Bhagavad Gita all rolled up into one. And the best part is not one mention of God!”

“Hmm,” Mary grunts in disapproval.

“Okay. Thanks,” Angus nods.

“Thank you, Mr. Hunham. This is really, really, nice,” you rush to hug him, forgetting you’re supposed to be treating the man like a superior. He doesn’t push you away though, he awkwardly pats your back instead, his other arm hanging out weirdly.

He clears his throat, “Well… I know how much of a voracious reader you are. It’s a rarity that must be preserved.”

“Thank you. I love it,” you hold the book close. You sway a little like you would when you are holding a baby.

“And this is for you,” Hunham returns to passing out the presents.

Mary eyes him suspiciously and unwraps it with ease. It’s another copy of “Meditations.”

“So you just give this to everybody?” She chides.

“And,” Mr. Hunham holds out a bottle of whiskey, smiling.

Mary grins back, “Aw. How did you guess?”

“How indeed,” he laughs. He holds up his finger momentarily, signaling you two to wait. “Also, this came in the mail for you,” Hunham hands Angus an envelope. You watch as he sits down and opens it quickly. The green card is shiny and stuffed with cash. Inside is one of those pre-written messages concocted by marketing companies. The only sign of a personal touch is the scribbled note that reads, ‘Love, Mom and Stanley.’

“Oh, that's nice,” you shrug shyly when Angus turns to gauge your reaction.

“Mary, may I help you with breakfast?” Hunham interrupts the sulking.

She nods, “Yes. Please. Angus, Y/n, clear the table.”

“Okay,” you pick up your abandoned lavender and place it next to the much taller pine. “Look, it's us.”

You snicker quietly, pleased at your own joke. Angus continues to stare down at the table.

You sigh and approach him, “Angus. Are we okay?”

His eyes snap to yours, “Yeah. Of course. It just…”

“It's just what?”

“I-, I didn’t get you anything.”

You exhale shakily. For a second you’d thought you had screwed everything up and he was ready to ignore you and forget of your existence.

You lean over and squeeze his hand, “It's okay. Your presence is worth more than a thousand jewels.”

“Cheesy,” he snorts. The first genuine reaction you'd gotten out of him all day.

“Thank you!” You squeak and tug at a loose piece of his curls. …

It's a group effort to get dinner on the table before midnight. Angus begrudgingly agrees to help you with the vegetables while Hunham and Mary handle the more serious stuff. You are still not to be trusted with anything besides a peeler.

You're scraping the final bits off your plate as Angus wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“Thank you, Mary. That was just lovely,” Hunham gleams.

“Wow, is that an actual compliment?”

“Oh, come on,” Hunham waves off.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a real family Christmas like this before,” Angus recalls, “Christmas dinner, I mean- family style. Out of the oven, all the trimmings. We always leached off of Y/n’s family.”

“Yeah. From Delmonico’s. Fresh from their stoves to ours,” you scoff at the memories of you tipping the delivery driver through the kitchen window so they could remain unseen by guests.

“Well, she’s got the right idea. Next year I’m ordering in from Delmonico’s,” Mary teases.

“Anyway. Thank you, Mary,” Angus says seriously.

“You’re welcome.” She winks at him and smiles.

Mr. Hunham raises his mug, encouraging you all to follow suit.

“I’d like to propose a toast. To my three unlikely companions on this snowy island. And to our absent friends and family,” the glass wavers in your hand, “And I realize that none of us are here because he wants to be, so if there’s any way that I can make the holidays a little cheerier for any of you, just say the word.”

You perk up immediately, hands slamming down on the table and almost shaking your fork off the table, “We want to go to Boston.”

“Boston. Why?” Hunham stares appalled.

Angus catches on and nods his head enthusiastically, “Why not? We want a real Christmas. We want to go ice skating. And I want to see a real Christmas tree with ornaments, not that stupid thing.”

“You said it was nice,” Mr. Hunham says, offended.

“It is nice,” Mary reassures.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. We want a real holiday,” Angus slithers his hand into yours.

“Well, we’re not going to Boston. It’s out of the question.”

“There's plenty of intellectual-like things there too! We could go to museums or visit statues. Or even go inside Paul Revere's house! Did you know they had that there?”

“Come on Paul, you just told them ‘anything.’ So, take the kids to Boston,” Mary vouches.

“Mary, we’re not allowed to leave campus or the immediate environs,” he insists.

Angus' arm flops down and the grip he had on your hand is loosened. You’re about ready to beg the history teacher to reconsider, and that you’ll stay behind and keep clean every inch of Barton as long as he agrees to take Angus. He must have noticed the flame he blew out from your metaphorical birthday candles as he drops his shoulders.

“But I suppose we could call it a field trip. A field trip would fall under the ambit of additional academic pursuits. There’s even a fund set aside for additional academic pursuits,” he mutters like it's a secret.

“I’ll go pack,” Angus rises, a grin on his lips as he sprints off to the infirmary.

You get up and move behind Mr. Hunham to hug his shoulders and then run to Mary to give her an equal tight squeeze.

She pats your arms, and says, “Alright now. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me! I mean I’ve-, I have always gotten chocolates for Christmas. Pass the age of twelve anyway. But my mom orders them from Stockholm and they’re great, they’re delicious, but even though I ask for a two-dollar book… I always get these ridiculously expensive chocolates. Yet tonight, I didn’t even have to ask-, for the book, umm, I-,” you flail your arms around, stumbling over your words.

“You didn’t have to ask us to not order the overpriced chocolates from Europe?”

“Yeah,” you tug at your earlobe. “So thank you. For not force feeding me copious amounts of sugar and cacao.”

Mr. Hunham smooths out his shirt and swiftly wipes underneath his eyes, “Well… I hear shipping costs are rather high nowadays.”

Day Nine - December 26th, 1970

The entirety of Massachusetts looks as idyllic as a postcard. The colonial houses and snow-covered lawns were so Norman Rockwell that you felt sickly sweet. You had attempted at first, to get the stubborn radio to turn on to no avail. After a while you all managed to chat amongst yourselves about local news. Not that you had any recent access to that information to be able to understand it all. Mr. Hunham had his own fun informing you all about the origins of Christmas traditions. Like how popcorn garlands could be traced down to some colonists in Virginia.

The talking had dwelled down as you reached Roxbury. You had been disappointed that Mary wouldn't be tagging along to Boston, but you knew her going to her sister’s meant more than you could understand.

“Here we are,” Mary sighs as the car stops in front of a large apartment building.

“Boy, that's an awful lot of stairs,” Mr. Hunham comments.

“And probably icey too.”

“Mhm.”

Although you understand the hints, you're not so sure Angus is. You kick his heel to break through whatever trance he is in.

“Mr. Tully?” Hunham calls.

His eyes widened, “Right… Mary, can I help with your bags?”

“Yes please.”

Angus is handed the keys to open the trunk. He gets out and collects a suitcase and a round little box and goes across the street.

“Hey, be careful with the box,” Mary orders from the open car window.

“I’ll help too!” You smile.

“No, that's okay sweetheart. Let him be gentlemanly.”

“I really just want to stretch my legs.”

“You can go,” Hunham says, “don’t wander far.”

“Thank you,” you say.

Mr. Hunham watches you jog across the street and stop at the bottom of the stairs to look up at Angus. He turns towards Mary, “You know you’re more than welcome to a room at the hotel. We’ve got the money.”

“Are you out of your mind? I need a break from you and Angus and all your damn bickering. Besides, I'm looking forward to visiting my little sister. She’s pregnant.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” He cheers and takes Mary’s hand and squeezes it. She scrunches her nose.

“Mr. Hunham. Mr. Hunham!” She pulls away and cradles her hand like it's been broken.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My hands sweat. It’s hyperhidrosis. Sorry.”

You bounce back to the car, crouching down slightly to speak to Mary, “Angus is asking how far to go.”

The two adults peer through the car windshield to spot the boy, “One more flight up!” Mary instructs.

You go back to observing him like a guard dog, one hand on your waist and the other over your eyes to block out the sun. You hear Mary get out of the Nova and wave up at her sister and who you presume to be her husband.

“Mary!”

“Hi!” she shouts back.

You pout as she approaches you, “Bye Mary.”

“Aww,” she pinches your cheek briefly. You don’t have enough time to appreciate the touch. “Don’t be so moody. I’ll see you soon. And look at the bright side. You get a hotel room all to yourself.”

“I’m going to feel all vacant in there.”

“Just do me a favor.”

“Yes?”

“Eat all the fancy snacks in the hotel mini fridge for me.”

“I’ll stuff them in my suitcase for you,” you promise.

“Thank you,” she tucks your hair back to protect it from the harsh breeze tangling it out everywhere.

Angus’s footsteps are loud as he practically skips over to you two. He loops his arm around yours and tries to drag you away, “Bye Mary!”

“Uh-uh. Where are you going?”

“I was just-,” Angus babbles.

“You’re not done yet. You have to help me up there.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” he relents, letting go of you and switching over to Mary.

You whirl around and head back to the car. You wish you could continue glancing at him, and the way the sun peeks through his hair and makes it appear browner than usual. But it's only so long until it begins to get creepy. Only so long until it is noticeable that you’re not admiring him as just a friend.

…

You settle in at the Sheraton Commander. It's a nice hotel with chandeliers in the lobby. Everyone around you looks like businessmen in a hurry or professors with a lecture to attend. Your room is right across from Mr. Hunham and Angus, and already you feel lonely at hearing their squabble across the hall.

You had kicked your suitcase underneath your bed and then went to knock at their door.

Mr. Hunham answers, “Ah, Miss L/n. Good. We were just discussing what to do for dinner.”

The door widens to allow you to enter, and you find a seat next to Angus on the end of his bed. “I thought we would go out to eat?”

“That’s exactly what I said but Mr. Hunham insists we stay in,” Angus says annoyed.

“It’s late! If we went out now, we could be met with frostbite and discomfort. We will get a proper night's rest and then enjoy the wonders of Boston.”

Angus groans beside you and you hop off the mattress. You silently ask for the room service menu which Hunham holds.

You scan through the foods, “They have some good options Angus…”

“Ugh,” Angus tugs at his hair. “Fine. What do they have?”

“You like Fettuccine Alfredo, get that.”

“Not if it doesn’t have chicken,” you know that's not true, and he’s just trying to be unnecessarily complicated. Still, you play along.

“Alright. I’ll get the chicken parmesan and give you some of it. Deal?”

“Deal,” he rolls his eyes.

“What are you getting Mr. Hunham?” You address the man.

“I don’t know,” he puts on the glasses that had been resting on his head. “I haven’t had ravioli in a while…”

“Get the ravioli. It’s courtesy of Barton afterall.”

Mr. Hunham hums, “I suppose you're right… Do either of you have an aching for anything particularly sweet after your dinner?”

You and Angus smile at each other, “I wouldn't mind some cake.”

“I wouldn't either.”

Mr. Hunham chuckles and picks up the phone on the night table. He presses some buttons and listens to dial tone before a staff member picks up.

“Hello, yes can I…”

You drown out the order as you draw open the curtains to their window.

“Holy shit. You can see Harvard from here.”

“Oh yeah. The receptionist mentioned that while you were busy admiring the Greek pillars. I think she thinks we’re on a campus trip.”

“I can only see layered brick from my window.”

“Well, that's Cambridge for you.”

You squint your eyes, “Are you really that bothered about not going out. Everything closed anyway.”

“That's what your brainwashed, rural, New England mind wants you to think. This is Boston. A city. Things here probably don’t close until three a.m”

“I doubt that.”

“Want to bet?” He whispers, smirking.

“What?”

“Let’s go out tonight. After Hunham declares it lights out.”

You shake your head, “We can’t, he's been so nice to us. I mean, c’mon, he drove us here.”

“This isn’t me trying to, like, undermine or disrespect him or anything. I just want to hang out with you.”

You fold under his gaze, and look back at Mr. Hunham who is still on the phone. “I don’t know Angus…”

“We’ll sneak out for an hour tops. He’s a heavy sleeper.”

Nervously you nod like he might overhear you even though he’s pretty preoccupied on getting a glass of Jim Beam brought up with the rest of your dinner.

“I guess. But you have to use your Christmas money to buy him a book on ancient Rome or something. As a present.”

“I’ll start marking the map,” Angus picks up a discarded pamphlet provided by the hotel. You smile at his eagerness as he tries to slyly look for places to visit. Mr. Hunham hangs up the phone and sighs contently.

“Food in thirty minutes. Wash up!” …

Mr. Hunham was chewing his last ravioli, and holding onto his half-finished bottle of Jim Beam like it was precious cargo. A Farewell to Arms, had come on TV, leading his current tangent. Even though you were anxious to get your plans on track, you couldn't help the way your mouth widened in awe as you listened to his words. You had no idea why Angus claimed to be so bored in his class. Hunham was better than any history teacher you had ever had.

“Although there is no credible proof, of course, that Hemingway described his hometown as one of ‘wide lawns and narrow minds,’ it would track considering his works. Actually, were you aware that his town was once a single entity? It's called Cicero and as you know, Mr. Tully, he was a very big politician in Ancient Rome. He-,” Mr. Hunham reads the clock on the wall. It's eleven thirty-two.

“Is it that late already?”

“Yes sir,” Angus responds, slightly exhausted.

“I do apologize. Most people tend to stop me once I hit the forty second mark.”

“It was really quite interesting,” you voice, “they don’t go too in depth about the author's life in the inside sleeve of books.”

“Well, uh, I thank you. For listening.”

“No. Thank you. You saved me from buying a biography,” you quip, and he smiles at you. A warm smile.

“Y’know you two are a lot like Hemingway. Maybe you both just happen to be two very large fishes with great minds, born into an incredibly narrow, small pond.”

…

You were kicked out after assisting in the clean-up. You then went to your room and put on your pajamas, along with your shoes. Instead of opting to use your usual sneakers, you put on the black Mary Jane’s your school mandates.

You didn’t know why until you looked Angus eye to eye and said, “I think it balances the rule-breaking out. I sneak out, simultaneously obeying my school's dress code.”

Angus had snorted, before revealing his own tie under his coat, hanging loosely and undone over his neck. You laughed, closed the door behind you and fled down the hotel stairs. It was clear almost immediately your coat, scarf and hat weren’t enough to keep you warm.

“We should turn back,” you suggested desperately.

“We’ve made it down one street.”

“Yes, and I’ve seen three ‘open’ signs. You were right, the world goes on after midnight. Let's go home,” you plead.

“No,” Angus drapes his arm over your shoulder, “we have to do at least one thing. So, think, what do you want to do?”

You mull it over for a second. There was nothing you were desperately wanting to see. The places you did were locked securely by key until tomorrow morning. Boston held no particular memories for you like it did for Angus. However, your parents owned a house downtown that you had been in exactly five times, and you always did like even numbers much better.

“You remember that brownstone on Beacon Hill?”

Angus smirks and nudges you to follow him. The walk to the train is painful with the way snowflakes seem to fall and nip at your skin. The only other commuter in their train car is a lady in scrubs and a defeated salesman. There are plenty of empty seats for you and Angus to hog. Nevertheless, you stand, holding onto the pole, your hands on top of each other. You lift your pinky a couple stops later, having forgotten what limb belongs to you and which was his.

You vaguely recall the address. Really you are navigated towards it through pure instinct. Something deep in your gut telling you ‘Here is the place your father will crash to if he doesn’t want to drive home after work.’

Your quiet walk is interrupted by the whooping of who you assume to be college kids extending their Christmas festivities. They leave, stumbling out of bars and into their cars. You don’t feel inclined to question it until you see them driving towards the brownstone. Your brownstone.

You pick up your pace. You follow the loose strands of streamers and glitter that litter the street.

You stop dead in your tracks at the sight of the house. With its lights on and the windows curtains drawn wide open, just inviting anyone to look inside and envy them. Dead ivy covers its brick walls, and you think back on the gorgeous wisteria that you once saw grow one springtime.

People in decadent clothing filter in and out of the house. Some pass you by and stare you down like your presence is a major disturbance that’s worthy of calling the authorities.

You spot the unmistakable pinned up hair belonging to your mother. She is dressed in silk and pearls. She dances with your father with her eyes closed. She looks at peace. She looks happier than you have ever seen her.

“Y/n…” Angus whispers, trying to get your attention.

But something else catches it instead. The mail slot is full of letters and cards. There are some bills too but that never worried them. They waited until they were threatened to have their light shut off for them to actually pay them with a simple flick of their wallet.

You go through them frantically. You go through the November letters, reaching the early weeks of December until you find the last notice. Sent from your school to them. It looks brand new, untouched. The last fingers to hold them before you were the school administrator and a mailman.

You tear the wax seal off and read the letter.

To the family of Y/n L/n,

This is the confirmation notice that your child will be holding over at Janie Patricks School for Girls for the following next two weeks. She will be supervised under the care of our English Department Head, Ms. Patricia Orchard. Any last-minute changes or concerns must be alerted to her now. Contact information below includes…

You halt halfway through a sentence and let the paper fall onto the dirty snow on the pavement. You want to grab a rock off the sidewalk and hit their window. You want to ruin their fun and embarrass them by asking, “Why did you even bother having me?” Even though you know their answer.

“Because we were expected to.”

To them you’re the anchor tying their boat down. They’re two birds and you just happen to be their cage. You don’t pick up that pebble by your shoe, no matter how tempting. You almost trip as your vision become foggy and you march forward and past Angus. You sit at a bus bench and wish you had a big bag of bird seeds to feed pigeons. Grandparents in parks always seem so content doing that. Angus joins you shortly and uses the end of the wool scarf to wipe your unnoticed tears.

You shakily exhale and white fog floats in the air. “I thought they wanted me during the winter.”

“What?” Angus draws his brows together.

“Spring and summer I get. People want to have a good time at the L/n’s. And I’m a pest like the bugs in the grass who brings the mood down at just my buzzing. But when it’s cold out, I’m more tolerable. I don’t complain as much about the weather so I’m quieter. My lack of attendance can be brushed off easier because they can just say I’m sick.”

“No Y/n-,”

“Secretly, I hoped they just hated me enough to want me to spend holiday break at school. I didn’t actually think they forgot me. I’m their baby. People don’t forget their babies.”

“Hey,” Angus snaps, holding your face between his hands. “They’re assholes and later, when the tears have dried, I know you’ll try to fight me on it. You’ll come up with all these excuses for them, but you have to remember that not once have they ever tried justifying themselves. You can love them. They’re your parents. But likability is different. And I’m sorry because I have never liked your parents.”

“I’m such a bother Angus,” you weep, “all calendar year long.”

“No, you’re not. I want you if no one else. I love you.”

You trace the outline of his face under the street lamppost like a tourist observes a painting in a museum. You find him doing the same. Although not much has changed. You have him ingrained in your mind. You could forget about him, not think of him for fifty years but still be able to scout him out in a crowded street.

You inch closer to him, filled by the sudden urge to be as close as humanly possible to him. It’s an urge that resurfaces every once in a while. Usually you brush it off, blaming the cold or an uncomfortable situation you want to hide from. But tonight all you feel is the warmth only he can radiate and the inimitable way he makes your heart race. You remove the hand cupping your face and kiss his knuckles.

“How is it that you want me?” You shakily breath.

“I want you in the spring, summer, autumn, winter,” he leans in closer, bumping noses with you.

“Really?” you murmur, using both hands to comb through the curls.

“I want you, all the time,” He spoke into the short amount of space between you. You were practically breathing into each others' mouths, your lips on the verge of touching.

“Angus, I don't think we should do anything. It’s late and we’re tired. We need to sleep.”

“Trust me, I’m wide awake,” he chuckles.

“You’re my only friend,’’ the rational side shines through. Briefly.

“I want you more than a friend.”

“We should go slow,’’ you bargain.

“Okay,” he presses his lips quickly against you. Eagerly you accept and pull him by his hair. You try to cram in all the lost opportunities with him in seconds. You savor the way his lips feel chapped from the bitter weather against yours. He encapsulates your body, practically pressing you down on the bus bench.

“You’re gonna get us arrested,” you murmur through brief pauses when you go to gasp for air.

His mouth parts, his lips red and puffy, “Yeah. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that. Are you-,”

You lunge at his lips, and smile into the kiss. You think this is how the rest of your life is supposed to go. Wherever happens with college and adult life, he has to be there. Because otherwise you don’t know how you will manage to breathe properly.

Then as the party rages on behind you. It floods you. The thing you had been waiting for. The reassurance, the sign you were doing the right thing.

Woosh.

[crispy-art-on-fire]

Transformers: The last Knight rewrite

A ramble about my ideas because I’m probably never writing the fic. Also Bay being back in the transformers movie seat is terrible news for my sanity.

In short: Optimus actually forsakes his faith in humanity after The age of extinction and becomes the major antagonist.

Now to get into it:

Ok so firstly some changes for pre-movie. For Age of Extinction Optimus was tricked using Sam Witwicky’s contact to meet him alone, only to met with soldiers. Attacking him while his guard is down amd severely injuring him before Sam intervenes and manages to secure his escape at the cost of his life.

Optimus goes dormant after sending the message to the Autobots that they’ve been betrayed. Only waking up later by Cade repairing him. The repairs take much more time here and Optimus gets to learn about Cade, Lucas and Tessa at the time he stays there. But when their diminishing funds threatens the house Lucas sells Optimus out to get the funds. Things happen like AoE after this with the minor changes. Like making Tessa’s boyfriend 18 to make Cade’s overprotectiveness more of a clear cut flaw.

Important things going forward: The parallels between Cade and Optimus with their relationships to Tessa and Bumblebee. The broken barely amicable family of the remaining Autobots. And Optimus killing Attinger to save Cade, feeling no remorse afterwards.

Really for AoE the only major changes comes at the end when Lockdown is dead. Optimus gives Earth six years before his return so Tessa can get her education and they can live up to their dreams but when he leaves he gathers all the remaining Autobots (just four, no more) onto Lockdown’s ship. That’s when he betrays them. Ripping Hound’s arms off before one by one incapacitating the rest, locking them up in cages.

Optimus cannot lose them, not now, not ever. He’d wronged his people by choosing to protect humans, he sees that now, and so he decided to strike a deal with the newly revived Megatron to end their war and revive Cybertron.

Now we begin The Last Knight. In the five years passed Optimus and Megatron has worked to regain their energon supply in order to raise up a new generation of hatchlings. Drift has decided to follow Optimus in this hope for a future despite the costs while Crosshair and Hound believes Optimus has gone crazy working with the ‘Cons. Bumblebee has throughout this time tried to escape with not much luck. Optimus’ connection to Quintessa as the last prime means that he can sense where Cybertronians are and hear her voice speaking to him in the tongues of the dead. For this he has chosen the name Nemesis Prime, the Optimus that lead the Autobots died with them (he does not deserve that name anymore).

Meanwhile on Earth the hunt for transformers continues and with it Cade’s effort to save them. In doing so he’s a wanted man and his relationship with Tessa has suffered as he shuts her out for her safety. However she doesn’t stop trying to reach out and track him down because damn it, they’re into this crazy task together, eventually deciding to infiltrate the government to learn what they’re doing so she can at least attempt to sabotage it from the inside.

The events start as Cade fails to save a scared transformer in hiding and is almost executed by the goverment before Optimus steps in and rescues him. An echo of the past and reaffirming Optimus’ choice as well as continues to challenge it. They catch up, Cade filling in what’s been happening while Optimus listens. Before they’re interrupted by an urgent com to Optimus: Bumblebee has escaped again.

Cut to Mikaela, a now established mechanic and firm believer of “not my problem”. She’s been living her life since Sam broke up with her all the way back and she’s not about to risk it by sticking her neck out on the chopping block. However when Bumblebee shows up in her driveway begging for help… well, who would she be to say no to that.

I haven’t ironed out the details for the middle part of the story (like usual) because I’m basically throwing out everything about secret society and Britain in there. The knights are unnecessary so they get chopped too. I think the mcguffin in this case would still be a staff but instead of it being given to Merlin it’s basically deep in the Earth’s crust and works like a key for Unicron. So trying to extrapolate world building from the Bay movies is an effort in frustration because every new movie brings up something completely new unrelated to the previous which means I have to come up with a way to make sense of this myself so here’s the current idea: A long time ago while Cybertron still lived it created an egg and shot it through space, this tore open the ground and was remembered as a great calamity. Unicron is what hatched from this egg and later developed into Earth. To activate Unicron would make it call to Cybertron to it as a chick would its parent. Except the dying and starving Cybertron will then devour its offspring to live.

Mikaela is the person with the credentials to try to prevent this from happening as a minor change is she actually did end up touching the Allspark. Meaning Unicron will (hopefully) recognize her as its mother and not call doomsday planet (Mikaela is not looking forward to it). During the course of the story it would basically explore how the allspark affected her and her new powers as one of the first things she does is hide Bumblebee from Optimus so they can try to secure the key on their own.

Cade’s role in the story would basically be the one unwavering person that has faith in Optimus and that he’s actually not turned evil. He’s on the Prime’s side right up until he realizes that he’s actually going to go through with killing Earth, deciding to defect and help Mikaela and Bumblebee with their hunt.

The major antagonist will ofc be Optimus and under him is Megatron, Grimlock+the dinobots and a reluctant Drift. While the minor antagonists are the US government as they go to war with the remaining transformers and make everything worse for everyone. Tessa being our contact on the inside who is desperately trying to come up with a way to end this conflict before mutual destruction happens.

And that’s what I got for now! :] Terrible times for everyone.

[burntsaltsblog]

Back from the Dead

Chapter 1: Beating Again

vampire!joelmiller jackson!joelmiller x

vampire!femreader fix-it fic

warnings: violence, mentions of blood and death, and potential spoilers, MDNI

summary: joel finds out that he is a vampire, but it doesnt go quite according to plan. If there even was a plan to begin with.

notes: vampire joel has officially entered the chat eeeeekkk. I 1000% believe that man could pull off a pair of fangs

happy tuesday besties <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Ellie used her sleeve to scrub the blood from Joel’s face as I stood in the doorway, perfectly playing the part of a bystander. Hesitation was something I lacked ordinarily, but seeing Joel alive and breathing sent intense nerves tumbling after my initial relief.

How on earth could I explain his newfound vampirism to him? Would he even remember dying? And would it be cruel of me to leave that part out, opting to say he merely passed out? However, that lie would shrivel into nothing but dust the second he smelled blood. The second he craved it.

Joel shook his head, dodging Ellie’s attempts to cleanse him as he scanned the room, his gaze eventually landing on me. “What the hell’s goin’ on?” his voice was gruff with that classic Texan twang. “Last thing I remember is bein’ shot by some girl who…” his words faded as his fingers grazed his knee, finding nothing but smooth skin under his ripped jeans while the black bullet lay by his side, taunting his confusion. It was safe to assume the little bugger had popped out when his body started to heal.

Ellie, not being able to hide her panic, whipped her head in my direction, silently pleading for me to give him an explanation.

I crept towards Joel, keeping my pace slow so as not to alarm him. “You were in an accident,” I started, buying time to throw together a story that would answer his question but also gloss over all of the life-changing stuff. “You were lured into this ski lodge by some strangers who clearly didn’t have good intentions.” I was now by his side and lowered myself to his eye level. “But I saved you. I saved both of you,” I acknowledged his adoptive daughter by his side. “And you’re going to be ok,” I finished, offering a smile that I hoped was reassuring.

There was a beat of silence that lulled me into a false sense of ease until Joel broke it by narrowing his eyes and growling, “Then why the fuck don’t I feel ok?”

“Uh, ok, what seems to be the problem?” I asked, resembling a doctor who was questioning a patient about their symptoms.

“For starters, my left shoulder ain’t hurtin’ like it has for the last twenty-five years, and I can see without my glasses,” Joel made to stand, shaking off the hand that I placed on his arm to steady him. “Oh, and my leg is missin’ a goddamn bullet hole .Does that list suffice?”

I bit my lip, willing my fangs not to elongate in my time of stress. “Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

Joel crossed his arms, seemingly deciding that everything that was out of the ordinary was my fault, which, in truth, it was. But I couldn’t risk angering him by telling him the details. He was surprisingly strong as a human, and I didn’t even want to imagine the strength he now possessed as a newbie vampire who hadn’t yet learned to control his abilities.

Dina stirred on the floor, making a small whimper of pain that had Ellie flying in her direction, her vampire dad long forgotten.

“Look, Joel, why don’t you try radioing Amy, yeah? You weren’t answering earlier, and Tommy was worried sick.”

“Tommy,” Joel echoed as the lines on his aged face deepened. He spun around to peer out the floor-length windows that showcased the view of our town burning below. “Shit,” he whispered.

Before I could intervene, Joel pulled his pack over his shoulder and grabbed his discarded gun and walkie-talkie scattered on the floor. “Help Ellie carry Dina,” he ordered. “We gotta get movin’.” He made a beeline for the open door, and I already regretted what I was about to do.

“You can’t leave,” I warned, reaching the doorway long before he did and blocking it entirely.

“How did you-” Joel’s question died in his throat as his head swiveled back and forth, looking from where I was only a moment ago to where I stood now, barricading his exit. “How’d you move so fast?”

“I can explain all of that. But first, I need you to promise me that you won’t leave.” There was no way I could allow Joel to leave this lodge and head for the blood and gore that awaited us in Jackson without having fed first. Fed on what, or whom I should say, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to kick myself for burying those bodies so quickly. They could’ve sustained both Joel and me for at least a few days.

Joel observed me for a moment before threatening, “Look, I don't know what’s goin’ on with you today, or myself for that matter. But if you don’t move outta my way, I will move you myself.”

Glancing over Joel’s shoulder, I observed Dina laying her head in Ellie’s lap as the latter whispered comforting words. It was safe to assume she would not be helping me.

“Goddamn it. I ain’t got time for this,” Joel grunted, drawing my attention back to him. He lunged at me; I wasn’t sure if it was to shove me aside or initiate a fight. At any rate, my instincts kicked in, and I hissed at him, fangs, crimson eyes, and all.

Joel’s own eyes widened with fear. “Son of a bitch.” He stumbled back, almost tripping over Ellie and Dina, successfully snatching them from their little world, and they both peered up at us in alarm.

“Wait, wait,” I implored, trying to convince Joel not to hightail it out of here before I could help him. “Please don’t be afraid. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

It was evident by the look on Joel’s features that he didn’t believe me as he planted himself in front of his daughter and Dina; ever the protector.

“Ellie,” he barked, dark and low, “Take Dina and get outta here.”

“Joel, relax; everything is fine,” Ellie reasoned as she helped a very woozy Dina to her feet.

Joel disregarded her as he pulled the safety back on his rifle, aiming it at my head. “You some kinda infected?” He challenged. It was only hours ago that Ellie had asked me the same question.

“No. I’m not,” I said, being careful to stay very still so I wouldn’t give Joel a reason to shoot me.

“Alright, then, would you mind kindly tellin’ me what the fuck you are?” He snarled. “I’ve seen more bloaters than I can count, and none of ‘em hold a candle to how fucked up you looked.”

I couldn’t help but be offended. After all, being told I was uglier than a bloater wasn’t exactly a girl's dream—Vampire or not.

“Isn’t it obvious, Joel?” Ellie sighed, leaving Dina to walk around around him. “She’s a vampire.”

Joel did not like Ellie’s course of action and elbowed her back behind him, not listening to what she’d said.

That wasn’t enough to deter Ellie, though, and this time, she marched all the way over to me, standing by my side confidently, much to Joel’s chagrin. “Show him your fangs again,” she whispered.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I replied.

Ellie scoffed before turning to Joel. “She really is a vampire. I mean, how else could you explain the speed or her crazy sharp fangs.” She flashed her dull teeth and made a hissing sound, trying to imitate my previous actions but looking far more comedic than frightening.

“You get back over here,” Joel instructed, keeping his eyes and gun on me.

“Joel, I’m not going to harm her. I would never.” Deep down, he couldn’t have forgotten how I loved that kid just as much as he did, as if she were my own.

He ignored me as he again told Ellie to retreat.

“Jesus Christ, why won’t you believe us?” Ellie asked, exasperated, flinging her arms out to the side. “She’s a vampire. And you are, too.”

What happened next would surely repeat again and again in my nightmares for the rest of my existence. Ellie drew her knife out and sliced her skin right down the center of her hand. Joel let out a cry of distress as his rifle clattered to the floor, and his eyes grew a vibrant red. His fangs made themselves known, piercing his bottom lip, and his hands clutched his chest as if trying to hold himself back from lurching at Ellie.

I dove between the two of them at the same time that Joel’s resistance broke, and he bounded forward, his gaze set on nothing but Ellie’s blood-covered hand and the red liquid that slowly drip, drip, dripped onto the hardwood floor.

It took everything I had to hold him back as I commanded Ellie, who’d gone pale. “Get Dina, and get the fuck out of here. Go back to Jackson.”

She didn’t move and instead stared at Joel in horror until I screamed shrilly. “Now!”

That sent her bounding toward Dina, grabbing her, and hauling her out of the room, both their backpacks and guns forgotten.

I hissed at Joel, with the intent of spooking him so he would snap out of his blood-thirsty state. It worked, thankfully, and he fell to his knees, gripping the sides of his head in his hands. “What’s happenin’ to me?” He choked out, groaning in what I knew was immense anguish. The feeling of starvation to a vampire was easily the most torturous thing.

“You’re hungry. But, luckily, I can fix that.” I joined him on the floor before biting into my wrist and letting my blood drizzle down my arm. “Here,” I offered, placing my open vein in front of him.

Joel swallowed thickly, looking away from my wrist and up at me. His big brown eyes swam with misery and fear, and I wanted nothing more than to rock him in my arms, soothing him till all his suffering subsided.

My healing was kicking in, so I urged him once more. “Drink before I have to bite myself again.”

Fighting what human instincts were still intact, Joel lowered his mouth to my wrist. His lips closed around my vein as he began to suck greedily.

“There we go,” I murmured. “That’s it.”

I let him drink for as long as I could before cutting him off. It was a struggle at first, one that I understood. It was nearly impossible to stop drinking when you were as malnourished as he was.

“Ok, I think that’s enough. You take anymore, and I’ll have to return the favor and tap your vein next.”

When his mouth parted from my flesh, Joel sat back on his heels, wiping my blood that had dribbled down his chin.

“Feeling better?” I ventured softly.

He nodded, meeting my gaze. “What just happened?” He croaked.

“I think it's best if I start at the beginning.”

♱⠀

Joel didn’t take well to hearing the tale of his death. But who would? Most vampires experienced a gruesome mortal death, and Joel was no exception

He traced the spot on his neck where the golf club had made the fatal puncture as he thought aloud, “It all feels like a dream.”

“That’s pretty normal,” I replied. “After the change, your human memories seem rather dim compared to the ones you have as a vampire.”

Joel looked momentarily alarmed. “I won’t lose ‘em, though, right?” My heart ached at the assumption that the memories he was most worried about forgetting were the ones of his daughters, specifically the elder one, who he lost so long ago. All I knew about her were from snippets that Tommy would spill when he was drunk off Jackson’s homemade moonshine, and I never pushed for more, knowing it wasn’t my place.

“No, no. All I mean is that a human’s senses aren’t as sharp, so their ability to remember things is weaker. A vampire is basically incapable of not picking up every single little detail. Nothing can get past us, and it all stays right in here,” I chuckled, tapping the side of my head.

Joel raked a hand through his hair, which was caked in dried blood. “So, I’m really dead?”

I nodded solemnly.

“Why’s my heart still beatin’ then?”

“You can thank my blood for that. The more blood in your system, the harder and steadier your heart will beat. I suppose you were too preoccupied to notice how slow and weak it was before you fed.”

“Yeah, I was preoccupied, alright,” he grumbled.

He was quiet after that. I had expected more rage from Joel as he learned the truth of his new identity, but all that sat in front of me was a man who was tired, fragile, and defeated.

“Joel,” I pierced the silence. “I did what I did for Ellie.”

His eyes, now back to their usual shade of auburn, bored into mine.

“You were probably too far gone at this point to remember. I don't think you were even conscious, but Joel, her screams. I-“ I took a breath before continuing. “The way she begged for your life to be spared. I just couldn’t let her lose you. I know you guys are on the outs right now, and it’s really none of my business, but she loves you more than you’ll ever know. And I’m sorry for not giving you a choice in the matter, but I knew that if I had the power to, I had to bring you back. For her.”

I waited, with bated breath, for Joel to say something. To say anything. But he pushed himself to his feet, promptly ending the discussion. “We should get back to town. Try to help with the damage and all.”

“Right,” I agreed. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. Joel wasn't one to empty his heart at the drop of a hat, and what I needed to focus on was getting him back to Jackson without another bloodlust episode.

“You still hungry?”

Joel hesitated, adjusting the strap of his backpack, “A bit, yeah.”

“I’ll take you hunting the first chance I get so you can eat again.”

“Huntin’,” Joel repeated. “So you’re not eatin’ people in Jackson, I take it?”

“Oh God no,” I placed a hand over my heart. “I would never. Vampires aren’t the animals that myths make us out to be. I have no desire to feed on my friends and people I consider family.”

“Well, I felt like an animal earlier,” Joel whispered, quiet enough that he didn’t think I’d hear. He coughed awkwardly. “So how does this whole huntin’ thing work?”

“I do most of it on patrol. It was easiest when Eugene was still alive and I could be paired with him. He was so high all of the time that he never noticed when I’d sneak away to find a lone raider to feed on. We can go on patrol together and do the same. Though, I should warn you that, as you know, raiders and travelers aren’t as common on the road during the winter, so we may have to settle for drinking from an infected once or twice.”

“You can drink an infected’s blood?” Joel looked shocked and horrified all at once.

“Yeah, it won’t hurt us. But I should warn you that feeding from an infected is like the human equivalent of drinking spoiled milk or eating hot garbage. But when you’re really hungry, you’ll take it over starving.”

Joel’s look of disgust was almost endearing, and I couldn’t help but tease him. “Don’t worry. If it comes down to it, I’ll let you have the nice fresh, human blood while I drink the moldy stuff. Sound good?”

Joel simply rolled his eyes, muttering about how he just wanted to go home.

And this time, when he walked through the door, I didn’t stand in his way.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 27th

Day 27: Lap Dances // Hate Fucking - Angry Sex // Breast Worship

Ezra x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Anger/frustration, mentions of limb loss, hate fucking, face slapping, covering of the mouth, cock riding, unprotected sex

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Shut up, shut up.” You huff under your breath, growling out the words as they echo in your helmet. Irritation mounting every second that passes as the other voice continues to ramble through the speaker beside your ear. “Shut the fuck up!”

“And then-“ the voice pauses for a blessed second and then starts up again. “Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you.”

Of course he couldn’t hear you. He wouldn’t shut the fuck up. You might have also had your microphone off so he couldn’t hear you. So he couldn’t hear you mumble and bitch as your irritation mounts. 

You don’t respond and he calls your name. “Little bird?” Then a hand touches your arm and you spin towards Ezra, your hand hitting the button on your radio. “No!” You hiss, staring at him through the glass of both of your helmets. Watching as those brown eyes furrow slightly in consternation and that gives you some satisfaction. 

“Could have sworn I saw you say something.” He murmurs. “My apologies, little bird.” Something like hurt briefly flashes but it’s gone before you can blink. “Where was I? Oh yes-“

On and on, he chats. Rambles. Telling you story after story that you’ve heard at least ten times already. Throughout the rest of the day and even on the fucking walk back to the pod you and Ezra have called home for the last five months you’ve been on this moon. 

Anger and pure hatred building up in your system when you finally get a chance to rip of the helmet that protects you from the noxious vapors once you are inside the air tight capsule. Nearly throwing it in a corner as you rip your suit off with hasty, jerky motions. 

You don’t care that you seem angry, you are angry. Pissed off that Ezra won’t stop. Digging under your skin every day and festering like a sore until it reptures. 

“Little bird…” The tone is soft, meek. Possibly ashamed but you can’t hear anything else but the fact that this man is talking to you again. Once again filling your head with his voice. You swear you hear it in your sleep. Whipping around, you see him gesture to his suit. “I-” 

“Fuck.” You growl, your own suit stripped off, and today for some reason, the fact that Ezra needs help taking his off sends you over the edge. 

Your hands are hard, rough. Yanking his body this way and that as you drag the velcro seams apart and tugging the zippers down with little care if they snag or pull at his clothes underneath. 

He’s quiet, possibly the most quiet he’s ever been and that just makes you angrier. Biting out orders until he is just in the worn soft and threatbare sweats that he prefers. It’s easier when he only has his left arm. 

“I’m-”

Whatever he is going to say, you cut him off. “SHUT UP!” You scream, nearly launching yourself at him and your lips collide with his. 

He’s stunned, caught off guard, but you don’t stop. Pushing him back, pushing him down into the chair that serves at the pilot’s seat, you pull back and slap him across the face. 

“Shut the fuck up!” You hiss, right before slamming your lips back against his like it is the only thing that will stop him from talking. 

Maybe it is. He isn’t talking when you climb into his lap, your fingers dragging through his short hair and tugging on it. Your teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to bruise. He still doesn’t speak. 

Ezra moans. His loan arm grabbing your waist and wrapping around you to drag you closer. Mouth opening and you can’t risk him speaking again, so you slide your tongue into his mouth ravenously. Eager to hear nothing but the grunts that come from his throat as you yank his head back. 

“Shut up.” You hiss, pulling away and kissing and biting down his throat, marking him roughly and almost carelessly in your blind rage. “Fucking driving me crazy.” 

Your hips grind down, feeling him hardening against your core as you curse him. “Fuck, I hate you.” You pant, letting go of his hair to reach between you and squeeze his cock roughly, feeling him twitch violently against your palm. 

“Litt-”

“Shut up!” You peel yourself off his lap, delivering a stinging slap to his cheek before you are stripping down your pants and worn panties, the damn things nearly falling off your hips. You aren’t gentle when you yank his own down. Hearing the fabric rip slightly and revealing his hard cock, bobbing up from his lap. 

Ezra clamps his mouth shut, his eyes wide and expressive and you just know the bastard wants to fucking say something. He wants to run that fucking mouth of his and ask you what the fuck you are doing. 

Spitting in your hand, you wrap it around his length and pump it, making him whine and his eyes roll back. 

“Fucking listened to you all fucking day.” You hiss, your pumps of his cock harsh but he’s not complaining. Not that you would listen to him if he did. You’re done fucking listening to him. “Kevva help me, I’m sick of it. Sick of you.” 

You straddle him again, still holding his cock and you line him up with the entrance to your needy cunt and impale yourself on him. Slapping your hand over his mouth to block out the sound of his gasping moan, you let your own sounds ring out in the little pod. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You hiss, closing your eyes and you feel his fingers grip your waist again, digging in and holding you to him. “Blessed silence,” You pant. “Just shut up and let me fuck you. Don’t say a fucking word. Just let me use your cock.” 

You don’t wait for him to hum against your hand, even though you feel it coming. It’s not in Ezra’s nature to be passive. He’s more aggressive than anything, although the loss of his arm has stifled that some. Now you just use him. Taking out all of your anger and hatred for him on his cock as you bounce on it. You don’t have mercy on him, walls clenching down around him as you swivel your hips and toss your head back in pleasure. 

This is what you needed. Silence and a good cock to ride. Your pants are loud, filling your ears instead of his voice. “Fuck, you just never shut up, do you?” You complain. “Always talking, always shit talking. Telling me about the fucking channel rats you clubbed to death or talking about Cee. I don’t fucking care about any of that shit. I don’t care that you used to be able to process aurlac without any mistakes. I don’t fucking care.” 

Every time you bounce on his cock, you feel yourself getting closer. Working yourself up as you ride his cock harder and faster. Feeling him urging you one with his lone hand, his pants wetting your palm as you still cover his mouth. You don’t trust him not to ruin this by talking. 

“Kevva blessed you with this cock and I’m going to fucking use it.” You groan, opening your eyes and looking into his again. They are glazed over, mouth slack against your hand. Watching you as you fuck him. “Shiiiiit.” You hiss, feeling him twitch inside you. “You better not cum yet.” You warn, pulling your hand away to smash your lips against his once more. 

Ezra groans into your mouth, pulling you closer as you start to buck. Walls clamping down around him again and you soak him in a hot rush of your juices, cumming with a silent cry into his mouth. 

Groaning, he stiffens under you, thrusting up and burying his cock deeper than you had managed to get him before, the hot waves of his seed painting your insides and making you whine in pleasure. The frustration and anger of the day slowly melting away as you lick into his mouth and swallow the small whimpers his makes. 

“Don’t say anything.” You warn, pulling away and pushing a finger to his lips as he smirks slightly. “Eat your food and go to fucking sleep.” Pulling off of his cock with a soft plop and a dribble of cum leaking out of your cunt. Feeling slightly better about lasting another day being stuck on this moon with him. 

You might fucking hate Ezra, but you love to hate fuck him. 

[spikek1tty]

Slide Away

Masterlist

Content: smut, oral, unprotected sex, masturbation?, not proofread, not accurate to alien universe at all

a/n: This is me manifesting that Liam Gallagher role for Spike (it's gonna be him i swear) it better be cause i dont play about oasis or spike. ima have to get involved😈also its my birthday😼

You yawn, putting book after book on the alphabetized shelves. Soon you hear the abrupt steps of a group coming down the hall into the quiet room.

Not so quiet anymore, the shouting of the guards echos off the walls.

You push your book filled cart towards the back of the room, away from everyone until you hear your name being called.

You sigh running a frustrated hand down your face. You had no intention in helping. You head to the front, your boss sitting in the circle desk behind the computer.

Man after man in orange jumpsuits stare at you as you walk by. Your boss introduces you and praises you for your hard work.

Though your paycheck doesn't fit his acclaims. You struggle to keep from rolling your eyes. You really should be grateful though, you could be doing way worse.

You zone out as the assignment is explained to the group.

Eyes scanning the group of men, some you recognize from them having helped out here before, others you don't. However, your eyes land on two certain boys.

Not only did they stand out because of their youthful, clean faces but you had seen them before. Not in the typical way though, no, you've seen them on T.V. not long ago.

They tried to escape to some independent colony, or something of the sort, you couldn't recount every detail.

How foolish you had thought.

If you were going to make a break at least do it right. Now they're back here, doing work with no pay, no chance for another plan like that.

You pitied them really, especially the girls. The one that survived at that. You had seen her when she'd come in, kind, timid, afraid even. Everyone is excused, groups of five are sent off.

Some groups were sent to different floors to clean others doing the same work as you.

You go towards the back once again finding your cart in the same spot.

You listen to the chattering over the sound of books being placed on shelves and the sound of a wet mop hitting the cold ground.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

As you place the final book on the shelf, ridding your cart of anything you move to push it before it gets stopped, held firmly in place. You frown as you see the orange jumpsuit.

"Shouldn't you be with your group?" you roll your eyes slightly. You couldn't be bothered to deal with him.

"Nah, finished already. Told me to come ask ya if ya needed any help." he nodded his head towards the front. "Do ya?" he asks leaning towards you.

You analyze him, ripping the cigarette out from behind his pierced ear. "There's no smoking in here you know."

He chuckles "What? 's not even lit." he snatches it back. You smirk, slightly amused. You turn your back to him, messing with the books trying to make it seem like you were busy.

"Whatcha do to get in here?" you ask curious of what he would say.

You hear him grunt softly as he plops himself down on the cart, a smirk forming on his face as he hold the cigarette between his dry lips.

"What? Ya mean you haven't heard of me? Wow, that's the first." you scoff, leaning on the carts handle waiting for an actual answer.

"You really don't know?" he asked. You shake your head. He shrugs, shoving the cigarette in his pocket

"Usual thing people do ta get in 'ere." you frown slightly as he fiddles with his fingers.

You watch as he swings his legs back and forth "So how long do you have then?" he scoffs "You think they're gonna let me out?" he shakes his head.

You move to the end of the row looking at the gathered teams sitting down. Your eyes searching for the other familiar boy. "That guy your brother?" you question.

"Cousin." he corrects.

You hear him hop off the cart, standing right behind you.

His hand snakes around your hip, his head resting in the crook of your neck.

He takes in a deep breath, capturing the scent of your perfume.

You shudder before turning to him. "What're you doing?"

He cups your face, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment before he guides you back by your hips. Your lower back pressing against the edge of the cart.

"Ya know, i've been awful lonely, not very fun in there. Maybe you can help me." His lips hovering over your collar bone.

He brings his eyes up to meet yours as a shaky breath sneaks out of you.

You'd be lying if you said he wasn't attractive, his eyes of blue and shaggy dark hair. The way that dreadful jumpsuit hung on him, almost making it look good.

He rests his head on yours once more before pulling your chin connecting you to him.

He froze suddenly, he didn't expect you to let this go on for long.

He swiftly pulls away and lifts you onto the cart, insensitively your arms snake around his neck.

He pushes your legs apart cautiously, fingers dancing along the sides of your thighs.

You nod and immediately, he dives down, pushing your skirt up. The fabric gathering at your waist.

He huffs in seeing the singular piece fabric that kept him from you.

Quickly, he pulls it to the side, admiring you for a second, humming before his lips connect to your clit.

You struggle to keep the gasp silent. Not wanting to notify anyone of the obscene action taking place in your area of work.

You listen to the sound of him lapping at your pussy. His fingers played at your entrance, slipping in partially before being yanked out.

You whine as his tongue leaves your core. He stares directly in your eyes as he slowly guide his fingers in you.

He watches as your face contorts with each curl of his fingers. He grows bolder with each movement until he's ripping off the orange suit.

Left hardly clothed, his cheeks tint a shade of red. You pull him in once again, though this time the kiss is different, its slow, intimate.

You hear as a loud voice calling all the prisoners back to the main area echos. That breaks both of you out of the daze of your kiss.

He strokes his cock eagerly before guiding himself in you. Your teeth sink into the skin of his neck forcing a hiss from him.

You pull away, smirking in seeing your work.

The rows of your teeth etched around a mark of purple. As another echoed yell from the main guard is heard the man speed up.

You throw your head back a whimper ripped out of you, you sit up quickly, eyes widened. The man stops, both waiting for someone to come find you.

As you hear no one walking towards your area he resumes.

Tears form in your eyes as you feel the knot forming. Short gasps escape as he pounds into you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his groaning.

The guard now yells a specific name. Bjorn.

You can tell his close as his pace become sloppy and impatient. His head hangs low only held up by your shoulder.

You tug his hair forcing him to look up at you, his eyes threatening to close.

"Is that you? Bjorn?"

He chuckles softly and nods lazily.

"Better make this quick, yeah?"

He hugs you close to him before releasing deep in you. You rest your head against him one last time, both drinking in each others silent moans.

You sigh as he pulls out.

Your fingers slip down to your pussy, toying with yourself, collecting the mix of both releases.

You sit up licking the taste off your fingers.

He catches the last second of your action and curses under his breath. "Fuck. Here let me help you." he says pulling you off the cart and steadying you.

He pats down your legs in an effort to smooth out your skirt. Though, the only thing you focused on was the feeling of how his release rushes out of you, setting into your panties.

"Gotta get back.." he says annoyed, shrugging the jumpsuit back on "see you 'round, yeah?" you nod, unsure of what to say to him.

He runs to the rest of the group and gets scolded, pushed harshly towards the exit by the main guard.

Not before giving you one final smirk.

You shudder. You couldn't believe what you just took part in.

You reach for the cart and roll your eyes. You'd have to clean it off before going home.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

[miss-musings]

"Omega Needs You Both": A Deeper Look at Crosshair's Plan 99 Monologue

So, I had an interesting exchange with someone on Twitter about the 3.15 "change of plans" scene and what exactly Crosshair meant -- specifically by the line "Omega needs you both."

I figured I'd share my thoughts here, and do a breakdown of the dialogue in this scene.

We start with Crosshair seeing Tantiss' defenses and his hand starts shaking uncontrollably. But, he clenches his fist and gives his brothers an update:

Crosshair: They've got heavy patrols guarding the perimeter, with lurca hounds. Wrecker: Told you we should've brought Batcher.

Wrecker, who was mauled by a jungle creature in the previous episode, has basically been running on a combination of adrenaline, determination and med patches for at least an hour. As Wrecker says this line, he chuckles and then groans with pain from his wounds.

Crosshair notices and gives him a look that Wrecker can intuit even under his helmet.

Wrecker: Stop looking at me like that. I'm fine. Crosshair: No, you're not.

Crosshair sees the situation they're in: Their five-man squad is down two people already.

Tech is dead. (RIP, bestest boy! 😭)

Echo is inside the base, but they can't coordinate with him. For all they know, he might've been captured or killed after deactivating the science vessel's sensors at the end of 3.13.

And now, on top of Crosshair's own hand tremors, Wrecker is severely injured.

Clone Force 99 is down two people already, two of the remaining three aren't at full strength, AND they’re going into Tantiss without any (known) back-up. 😬

Even if they manage to get past the patrolling stormtroopers and lurca hounds, they still don't have an easy way in. (Of course, the Zillo beast solves both of these problems about two minutes later.)

So, knowing full well what they're going up against and seeing the bad shape his squad is in, Crosshair offers a solution:

Crosshair: Change of plans. You two head to the communications array and try to contact Rex. I'll infiltrate the base myself. Hunter: Not happening. Wrecker: Yeah, we've handled worse situations than this countless--

Wrecker of all people knows that their squad isn't invincible. But, I think he's trying to infuse some optimism into the conversation and convince Crosshair not to do something rash.

Meanwhile, Crosshair basically tries to do the exact same thing to Wrecker, but in a much harsher way:

Crosshair: Wake up, Wrecker! Clone Force 99 died with Tech. We're not that squad anymore.

Crosshair says what they're all probably thinking:

Clone Force 99 charged into every battle in the Clone Wars with full confidence and zero hesitation. Maybe they weren't exactly stupid about it, but they were definitely reckless.

Crosshair is trying to tell Wrecker that they're not that invincible squad anymore. They lost their MVP in Tech. They cannot afford to go recklessly charging into battle like they used to, which he believes Wrecker is suggesting.

Crosshair: I've been inside that mountain. I know what we're up against. If we all go in, we're not all making it out.

Again, even if they manage to get inside, Crosshair knows exactly how well-defended Tantiss is. He's trying to convince his brothers to get to safety, because he knows the odds are stacked against them and he doesn't want to lose them.

He wants to keep them safe. He wants to protect them. So, he uses the best logic he has to try to convince them: 🥺

Crosshair: Omega needs you both.

I know a lot of people look at this line and interpret it as: "Crosshair thinks Omega doesn't need him (like she needs Hunter and Wrecker)."

There's definitely an argument to be made for that.

Crosshair has major self-esteem issues throughout Season 3, and he definitely feels like he failed Omega after missing the shot to track her ship in 3.11.

I do think he believes that Hunter and Wrecker matter to her more.

I also think he doesn't know or fully accept exactly how much he means to her.

But, he must have some sense that his well-being is important to her — that she cares about him.

She refused point-blank to leave Tantiss without him. She spent five months telling him, convincing him, that they were going to escape together. For all his efforts to push her away, she never gave up on him. And when the opportunity finally came, she kept her word and freed him.

Between 3.05-3.11, Omega spends a lot of time with Crosshair.

She helps him reintegrate back into their family and reconcile with Hunter. She doesn't like when he suggests taking on CX-2 by himself. She tries to help him heal his hand and his mind. When she tries to convince them people can change, she reminds Crosshair that she never gave up on him.

She also told him multiple times in Seasons 1 and 3 that he was her brother. Omega always saw him as part of her family, and she wanted him in her life.

(EDIT: It’s also totally possible that Crosshair realizes Omega cares about him while ALSO believing she doesn’t need him. “She cares about me” =\= “she needs me,” especially compared to how much she needs Hunter and Wrecker. He is still weighed down by guilt and insecurity, after all, and feels like he failed her in 3.11.)

Again, I do think Crosshair underestimates and/or doesn't fully accept how much he means to her (or how much she needs him).

But, I think he’s ultimately trying to tell his brothers: "You two can't die, because Omega needs you."

Crosshair knows how much they care about her. He probably thinks they'll agree to anything -- no matter how stupid -- if helps guarantee her safety.

Omega is the best reason he has to convince them they need to live.

In general, Tech went through a similar process in 2.16.

He first told his family to "sever the connection hinge now," and Wrecker refused. He called for Plan 99 and Wrecker still tried to talk him out of it. So, he shot the connection hinge himself, because he knew they'd never let him go even if it meant they’d all die too.

(RIP. He really was the bestest boy and the squad's MVP.)

Crosshair is doing the same thing: he's trying to convince his brothers to let him sacrifice himself to ensure their safety. 😭

Now, Tech's situation was different. It really was "either he dies or they all die." There was no way around it.

But that's not a guarantee here in 3.15, although Crosshair thinks it is. (And as we see later, he's basically right. The CX operatives could've and would've killed them, but Hemlock apparently wanted them alive.)

Anyway, let's close out Crosshair's monologue:

Crosshair: So, I'm doing this alone. It's-- It's what I deserve.

Pairing this with his previous statement that Omega needs Hunter and Wrecker, it can definitely sound like "I don't matter to Omega (like you do), so I need to sacrifice myself." Again, there's an argument to be made for that.

(EDIT: I really think DBB’s delivery of “Omega needs you both. So, I’m doing this alone. It’s what I deserve” is a BIG part of why people interpret it the way they do. And they’re arguably not wrong to do so. It does feel in-character for Crosshair.)

But, I'm guessing he means that sacrificing himself will finally atone for everything he's done -- hunting down and nearly killing his family, killing all sorts of people for the Empire, failing his loved ones, etc.

He's telling them: "I've made so many mistakes. Let me make up for it now by keeping you safe."

Thankfully, Hunter and Wrecker talk him out of it.

Hunter: Don't even think about Plan 99, Crosshair. Omega needs all of us, and so do those clones. Wrecker: We've always known the risks, and so did Tech. We do this together.

Hunter affirms that Omega needs all three of them. He's using the same logic that Crosshair tried: "Don't throw your life away, because Omega needs you too."

And Wrecker tells Crosshair more clearly that he knows their squad isn't invincible anymore. But, if they're going to do anything, they're going to do it together.

I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Crosshair planned to keep arguing with them, but then they got distracted by the Zillo beast. 😅

In summary

If I had to rewrite Crosshair's monologue so it would more clearly convey what I think he's trying to say, it would go something like this:

Crosshair: Wrecker, we're not wild Clone Wars frat boys anymore. If we go rushing into Tantiss like we used to, we're all gonna die. You two need to live for Omega's sake. So, stay here and stay safe, and let me sacrifice myself. I nearly killed you all, and did a whole bunch of other bullshit, so I need to make up it.

As I said, I think a lot of these points are open to debate and discussion. But, I wanted to offer alternative interpretations for some of these iconic lines, because I feel like everyone keeps landing on the same (wrong) ones.

Feel free to comment/reblog with your thoughts!

[thewinter-eden]

Blood Sugar Virus (2)

CHAPTER TWO

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, OT8 friendship dynamics

Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

< last chapter | next chapter >

It’s time. You’re not nervous until you see the 8 members of Ateez cautiously making their way up the steps to the dark high school, because it’s time for you to act. You’re no longer just the girl who had “study groups” and hang outs with Rosé and eight other students, now you’re also the girl who has watched a small portion of the student body become viciously affected by a flesh-eating virus—a girl who believes zombies have infected the school and that death or contamination is imminent.

You have to believe it. You have to be it.

You’ve done this hundreds of times in hundreds of ways, and there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind that you’ve found your calling—that you’re doing the thing that you’re good at.

But there’s always this flutter of nerves.

The anxiety that comes with building a normal (if accelerated) relationship with eight incredibly sweet (and totally attractive) young men who are about to watch you turn into an emotionally traumatized woman who believes her friends are zombies is hammering through your skull.

You’re potentially about to embarrass yourself.

If they change their minds, if they can’t get into it, if they throw up their hands and decide the whole thing is stupid and silly and more for kids than adults, then you’ll be the one with egg on your face.

Then again, there is a contractually guaranteed silver lining—egg on your face or not, KQ is still required to pay the full sum of your agreement regardless of if the guys make it through the whole program or if they give up five seconds into it. And if they give up five seconds in, it’s not your problem. You provided a thorough description of what they could expect, they literally hired you to slather blood on your face and develop an intense horror story for them to puzzle through, and if they don’t like it, that’s on them.

They’re on the steps, reaching for the door.

You’re not nervous.

You’re a professional.

This is your job.

And you’re damn good at it.

Their voices are buzzing through the glass, tense and pitched tightly with nerves, and from your shadowed place of observation, you feel relieved. You’re not the only one who’s nervous—and, even better, they’re already absorbing the spooky energy of the dark and imposing high school.

You haven’t even showed your face—your matted hair, your face and throat streaked with fake blood, your high school uniform that’s ripped and grimy, the fact that you only have one shoe—and they already believe your story.

This is going to be easier than you thought.

No reason to be nervous.

It’s go time.

The doors rattle loudly, the sound echoing down the empty halls. There’s a moment of hesitation, the startled and trembling voices of eight transfer students responding to the eerie noise, and then the door pushes open.

Predictably, Jongho pokes his head curiously through the opening, takes a look at the dim entry way, and then enters the school with ease. Behind him, his seven friends tumble in as well, half of them already clinging to and crowding each other for safety.

When they’re all standing awkwardly in the entryway, you take your cue.

Your footsteps are loud—one the hard echo of a solid shoe sole, the other the soft slapping of your socked foot. It’s an odd and unnatural noise that immediately catches their attention, the clunk-thump, clunk-thump, clunk-thump of your uneven gate.

By the time you emerge from the nearest hallway, all eight sets of eyes are fixed on you, wide with fear. You throw yourself with frantic energy, landing at the apparent leader (Jongho)‘s feet. “You have to help. Help. Please, you have to—“

Your voice is a low whisper, muffled by the rushing of your quickened breaths.

Many of them relax at the sight of you. Seonghwa, Yeosang, Yunho.

Jongho wasn’t disturbed to begin with. He just catches your grasping arms and pulls you up to stand in front of him.

San reaches for you instantly, one hand on your arm and one hand gripping Wooyoung’s. “Sugar!” He whispers back. “This is crazy!”

You clutch him right back, unwilling to break character. Since he went for you first, you turn your full attention to him. “We have to get her. They’ve got her, we have to get her.”

There’s something awkward about asking staged questions, especially when they already know it’s a zombie program. You don’t expect anyone to play along enough to actually give you the “what’s going on/what happened here” line, so you take full control of the dialogue.

“Some of the students just started biting people.” You gasp, privately enjoying the probably real nervousness on San’s face. “And then they were biting and then more were biting and they all just went crazy. They’re all crazy—and they have Rosé.”

“Where is she?” Hongjoong asks, finally finding a question he actually doesn’t know the answer to. “How do we get her back?”

You point down a nearby hallway. “Last time I saw her they were taking her back there. Into the admin office. You have to help me, please.” You’re giving it your all. Voice trembling, ragged breaths, choked breaking sobs, hands shaking.

Based on the way San’s hand gently tightens around your arm and pulls you ever so slightly closer, he’s fully taken in by your theatrics. You’re flattered; almost giddy at the response to your favorite job in the world.

“So we’re going to find the admin office.” Jongho says decidedly. He’s thriving with a set of instructions, keeping his focus firmly on the steps it will take to win the game. His eyes are on the hallway you pointed to, but he glances back at Hongjoong.

The leader nods assent. “San, keep an eye on Sugar. Let’s go. We ready?” He remembers your orientation meeting, the rules you gave him—keep you alive and rescue Rosé. He scans his group, counting heads, checking their ability to begin the game.

You can pick out the more anxious ones—San, Seonghwa, Mingi—and the ones who look nervous but excited—Wooyoung, Yeosang, Hongjoong—and the ones who want to get going and stop hand wringing—Yunho, Jongho.

They’re ready.

Nobody’s backing out.

San drops his hand from your arm to your palm, but keeps his other hand fixed on Wooyoung’s arm. He seems to be buying your act so completely that he leans down a little to quietly ask if you’re okay, and you see his gaze taking in the convincing application of blood and gore on your person.

You have to play the part, but you’re not trying to insult his kindness, so you grip his hand and nod. It’s still a fearful nod, one consistent with someone who has just seen things no human has ever seen before, but it’s genuine enough.

It’s such an insane rush to be believed.

Not that you’re okay; of course you’re okay.

But that you might not be.

Zombies and horror and dramatic displays of fear feel so cheesy and unreal when you’re laying it on so thick, so when you get such alarmed responses it settles your entire body like a security blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Good. Let’s go.” Hongjoong whispers, and then you’re off.

Eight students and you, slinking down the dark hallway into the unknown. They’re reading classroom signs, Jongho and Yunho taking the lead with Yeosang close behind, and the leader takes the rear.

Your job is done for the moment, so all you do is cling close to San’s side and let him guide you with the group.

You and Namjoon had made your predictions about who would be assigned as your first protector and who would automatically volunteer for the job. You’ve made predictions about many scenes in the program, just as you always do.

The two of you were a hundred percent spot on when you hosted a program for Stray Kids a few years ago; Lee Know had been the calmest one right off the bat, which had been Namjoon’s prediction. But he had assigned Jisung to take first watch of you, which you had predicted (at least in part. You’d figured it would be horror-movie lover Han Jisung, but you hadn’t guessed that Minho would give him the job).

This time, you had predicted that Wooyoung would be in charge of you, while Namjoon had figured either Yeosang or San.

You owe him money.

You’re only a bit salty about it.

Jongho finds the admin office rather quickly.

The door is closed, and soft rasping grunts can be heard from within. San and Mingi instantly tense, pulling away from the ominous room.

You get dragged back by San, hovering close to the back of the pack with Hongjoong while Wooyoung moves forward to enter the room with the others.

“This is crazy,” San whispers to you. “It’s so spooky in here. I’m actually scared,” he laughs at himself a little, and you squeeze his hand again but you don’t break character.

When you finally have your turn at the door, he can see the zombie in the room. It’s Jin, lying on the floor, twitching and groaning with imaginary infection.

The rest of the guys have snuck into the room, their eyes pinned to Jin.

“It’s our first zombie,” Seonghwa whispers, and flashes a grin to Yunho. “He looks so real!”

Jin twitches and growls, and the entire group flinches back against the wall. You find yourself pulled tightly into San’s side, his hand forcing you a bit behind him.

“There’s a note.” Yeosang whispers to Jongho, pointing at the floor next to Jin. He glances back to you for confirmation, but you’re no help.

It’s not like you’re supposed to know why the zombie would leave a note next to his bitten body.

Jongho reaches for the note, pauses as Jin lurches, and then quickly snatches the paper off the floor. As soon as he’s got it, he and Yeosang back rapidly towards the rest of the group.

By now, Seonghwa has found himself back to you and San, and he hovers close to your other side. “This is so fun but so eerie,” he tells you, but when he glances at your face and sees only the permanent expression of worry, he realizes you won’t respond as an actor.

“Zombies have infected the school.” Jongho reads softly. “They’re sensitive to noise. Even the slightest sound will start them hunting—“ he breaks off and immediately lowers his voice to a whisper while Yeosang brings a finger to his lips and promptly shushes the guys who are still mumbling about Jin’s antics on the floor.

It’s hilarious to you, the gleam in Yeosang’s eyes. He’s nervous, jumping back behind Jongho at the slightest sound, but he’s so intensely enthralled in the game that you can’t help a small smile.

Jin writhes and gives a garish shriek—his favorite zombie sound effect—and Mingi jumps back with a loud yelp.

At the sound, Yeosang shushes again and bolts to the door. You think he’s about to flee, run for his life from an imaginary hoard, but he stops at the window and you realize he’s scouting for danger.

You’re absolutely thrilled by this.

It’s insanely gratifying to see them engaging with your program so completely.

Jongho continues at a whisper and Yeosang returns to read over his shoulder. “You must not let them bite you. I’ve hidden a cure that I’ve developed around the school. If you find them, you can save yourself—if you get bitten, you must take the cure within five minutes and live.”

Wooyoung instantly begins skirting the room, searching for the cure.

You’re impressed.

There are three in that very room, a detail that TXT had neglected to consider entirely—four of them had died, r.i.p.

“There are two surviving students. Sugar has found a place to hide until help comes. You must save her. Keep her alive or all is lost. Rosé has been captured by the zombies. You must rescue her as well, or all is lost.”

“Does it say where she is?” Hongjoong whispers.

“I don’t see anything.” Yeosang returns, and shushes him nervously.

“I found two!” Wooyoung hisses, holding up two blue vials with excitement even as Yeosang shushes again.

Realizing there may be more to be found, Yunho jumps into the search as well, skirting the other side of the room.

“You must solve a series of puzzles to find Rosé.” Jongho reads. “But you must escape the school before 12am when the doors lock, or all is lost. Follow the bell. Save the girls. Stay alive.”

Mingi visibly shivers.

“Also.” Jongho peers closer. “Beware of Fever Time on the quarter hours.”

“Fever Time?” Mingi squeaks.

Yeosang shushes him again.

< last chapter | next chapter >

tag list : @mysterysold @threevracha @igotajuicyass @velvetmoonlght @ramadiiiisme @mrsminseochoi @nightshadeblooming

[yuriosakawa]

Runaways (With Me) [Yj Runaways x Pregnant!Reader] 

Summary : Like the other meta-teens abducted by the Reach, you were a runaway. But unlike them, you ran away because you were pregnant. Being a teenage mom is hard enough—but being experimented on by aliens and left with powers you neither wanted nor understood? That made it even harder. Still, you’re not alone. Because the Runaways might run from everything... except each other.

~~~

Chapter 3: STAR Labs

~~~

It’s been over a month since you and your friends were stationed at STAR Labs "for your own good". And even longer since you were rescued from the Reach.

But to your friends, it doesn’t feel all that different. After all, you’re still being tested day in and day out. The only real change is that STAR pretends to be nicer about it.

You, at least, have it a little easier—thanks to your pregnancy. You’re already in your second month. Half your tests focus on managing your new ice powers: what shapes you can form, how long they last… but mostly, what triggers them. Your powers are tied directly to your emotions. If you’re upset, frost starts crawling down your fingertips. In the worst cases, you can drop the room’s temperature without even realizing it.

The scientists at STAR Labs have taught you techniques to stay calm. Meditation, so far, has been the most effective—not just for your powers, but for soothing the baby as well.

Speaking of which, STAR has also tried to run tests on your child. Every time, you shied away. It reminded you too much of the Reach and what they tried to do. And while the STAR team always reassured you—We just want to take a look. We just want to make sure it’s healthy—you know better.

You know what they really want is to make sure your baby isn’t dangerous.

Right now, you’re sitting on a bench in the testing area, cradling your belly, flanked by Tye and Asami. The three of you watch as Virgil, hooked up to a web of electrode nodes, manipulates a trash can lid with his electromagnetic powers, making it float mid-air.

The room is cold. Not in temperature—the climate is tightly controlled—but in atmosphere. All sterile steel and hard lines. Thick walls. Cameras in every corner. A place that makes you feel more like a lab rat than a person.

“Not just the lid. The entire can,” says Doctor Wilcox—your assigned researcher—his voice dry and clipped over the comm from the observation room.

Virgil growls in frustration. He whips the lid into the wall with a loud clang, embedding it deep in the metal.

“Doc, we’ve been at this for five hours straight!” he snaps, ripping the nodes off his face. “How about a lunch break?!”

The rest of you glance toward the observation window, silently agreeing. You could all use one.

Wilcox checks his chronometer, then lets out a short sigh. “Take twenty minutes.”

All of you eagerly trudged out of the testing area, barely containing your groans of relief. Virgil kept muttering angrily under his breath, his frustration over the failed test still evident in every tense movement.

“Don’t worry, Virgil. I think you did great,” you offered, gently gripping his wrist in encouragement.

He glanced at you and gave a small, grateful smile—just before raised voices echoed from around the corner.

“You heard me! I’m sick and tired of the testing! We all are!” Eduardo’s voice rang out from his father’s office—fierce, impassioned, and tinged with his familiar Argentine accent. “I mean—[Y/N] is pregnant! ¡Está embarazada!”

“Mijo, we must continue,” came the measured but tense reply from Doctor Eduardo Dorado Sr., his frustration barely veiled behind his calm tone.

“They’re at it again…” Tye murmured, sharing a look with the rest of you.

Curiosity pulled you all toward the closed office door. The conversation inside was too heated not to hear.

“Why?! Just to prove your theory?!” Eduardo shouted, a loud slam following his words as he pounded on the desk.

“Sí, Eduardo!” his father snapped back, “I spent two decades perfecting my Zeta Beam technology—and now my son has teleportation powers?! This cannot be a coincidence!”

He unceremoniously slapped a folder onto the desk, then took a slow breath before continuing, his tone forced into composure. “The Meta-Gene the Reach activated inside you must be opportunistic—taking advantage in what is present in the subject’s system.”

You paused at that.

You had spent most of your life in (Home Country), but before that, your family had lived in Alaska—back when your father’s job required it. A frozen, isolated landscape… Could that be why your powers manifested as ice? Was it something the Meta-Gene copied from your past?

And if that was true… what would that mean for your child?

You instinctively placed your hands over your belly, gently rubbing it as you considered the implications.

“Only the subject doesn’t care!” Eduardo’s voice suddenly cut through your thoughts, angrier than before. “I want a cure, not an explanation!” 

There was a pause. Then, in a tone like a blade drawn slowly from a sheath, Doctor Dorado responded: “…You have only yourself to blame. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t run away from your abuelo’s home in Argentina.”

The words hung in the air—quiet, but sharp. Eduardo stood still, his body rigid. He didn’t react right away… but the silence said enough.

“I thought I wanted to be with my father,” he said at last, voice cold. “What a mistake that turned out to be.”

Then he turned on his heel and stormed out, the office door slamming shut behind him—only to stop abruptly when he found all of you outside.

“O-Oh! Hey, Ed! We were just, uh… passing by. Didn’t hear a thing,” Newt stammered awkwardly.

He was an older teen, one who had been in STAR Labs longer than all of you combined. Newt was the first Metahuman the Reach had successfully experimented on—and then unleashed. He tried to kill the Flash once, and nearly blew up Central City. Thankfully, he was stopped, rehabilitated, and brought back to himself. He was nice enough… but his nervous, overly accommodating nature didn’t exactly win him points with your group.

“Doesn’t matter. Same old, same old,” Eduardo muttered, brushing past you with a defeated slouch.

“C’mon,” Virgil urged. “We’ve only got about twelve minutes left for lunch—and you know how Doc Wilcox gets when we’re late.”

You resumed your walk down the corridor together, tension still clinging to the group like static.

“This is so messed up,” Tye grumbled, voice rising. “STAR’s as bad as the Reach, and worse than home.”

���Tye, there’s no way this is as bad as the Reach ,” Newt piped up, frowning with his hands on his hips like a scolding mom. 

“Whatever, Newt. All I know is I can’t take much more of this place,” Tye snapped.

Virgil gave him a sideways look, then reached out and clapped a hand on Tye’s shoulder, his expression shifting into a sly grin.

“You won’t have to,” he said, voice low and full of promise. “Because we’re busting out tonight.”

~~~

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