#will probably write another little Drabble where they find out when Dick is supposed to be 18 or older bc I think that would be fun too

[batsandbirdbrains]

Inspired by the one anon who asked abt fics where Dick turns out to be younger than people think he is and the recs that were given:

What if it’s like a scenario where Dick’s parents / the circus changed his age in documents so he could perform. And his age changed all the time on paper because different countries had different rules, even different cities/counties might not be the same as the one next to it. And so Dick sort of forgets how old he actually is most of the time, he just sticks with whatever his parents last told him.

And he was told he was eight when they were in Gotham. He was just short for his age because he’s a gymnast, that’s what they told anyone who questioned them.

In reality, Dick was five years old.

And by the time he remembered he should probably tell Bruce that, it’s already been too long. It’s several months after Bruce has taken him in, after he already has been Robin, and it just hits him one day that he’s going to be turning six in March. Bruce thinks he’s turning nine.

And Dick gets this horrible terrible no good idea in his head that if Bruce finds out he lied about his age, that Bruce will get rid of him. Won’t want him anymore. Will call him a dirty liar and kick him to the curb.

And Dick can’t lose his new home. He loves Bruce. He loves Alfred. And he loves being Robin. So he keeps it a secret and tries to forget that he’s three years younger than he’s supposed to be.

It’s a damn good thing Dick’s parents were rigorous in his schooling, and by some miracle he tests into the proper grade for his age when Bruce starts him at Gotham Academy. It’s a bumpy start, but it’s easily explained away by the slight language barrier. Dick actually speaks and reads English just fine, he learned it the same time he learned French and Romani and Arabic, but it’s a good excuse for why his penmanship is clumsy and why he starts out just slightly behind his peers.

He puts so much extra effort into his school work that by the time he’s supposed to be 13, it’s recommended he skip a grade. Bruce is so proud. Dick is somehow managing to get by as a ten year old in high school, and he cannot figure out how he’s pulling this shit off. Talk about being a showman, because it feels like he’s playing the world’s most impossible role.

But then something happens when Robin is on a team mission with the young justice season 1 team. Some magic shit. Maybe Klarion does something, maybe it’s like the episode where the adults get separated from the kids, but instead of it being everyone over 18 is separated from everyone under 18, it’s anyone who’s a teenager and up being separated from the kids who are all 12 and under.

And no one can figure out where Robin is. And also Captain Marvel is missing. What the fuck.

Bruce is fucking freaking out because he cannot figure out why Dick isn’t anywhere, why he can’t get ahold of him. He’s convinced Klarion must be holding him hostage or something.

And then you have Dick and Billy saving the day on their side, and Dick convinced him to try to transform into Captain Marvel. Billy doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want to leave Robin alone if it makes him disappear to, but Dick assures him he’ll be fine, they’ll both be fine.

And then they come up with a plan yadda yadda the world is saved Dick and Billy save the day, the rest of the episode doesn’t matter.

But Batman pulls Robin aside immediately once they’re all back together and asks him what the hell just happened.

And Dick just starts crying. He’s so stressed out. This whole situation was so scary and he wasn’t actually all that confident the plans he’d made would work he only pretended to be so sure of himself so Billy could do his part and not be scared too. And also it’s really fucking stressful being a ten year old in high school. It’s very hard. Dick’s life is very difficult, and now his dad is finding out that he’s not as old as he’s been pretending to be, and everyone else is there and going to find out to, and he’s so overwhelmed.

��I didn’t mean to,” Dick says through full on sobs, and Bruce is so concerned and he’s hugging Dick and trying to calm him down, but Dick has gotten himself all worked up. “They changed my age all the time so I could perform, I’d be six in one city and eight in the next and seven in another and I just I forgot I wasn’t really any of those and then you adopted me and I forgot I wasn’t really eight until it was almost my birthday but it was too late to tell you and you would’ve been so mad and you wouldn’t have wanted me anymore and I didn’t know what to do!”

“Hey hey hey, slow down, slow down,” Bruce tells him, “take a deep breath. You need to breathe, Robin.”

But Dick just falls against Bruce’s shoulder and cries. He doesn’t want Bruce to think his parents were bad parents. Because they weren’t, they were the best. They just had to fudge some things so Dick could perform with them, so he could have fun up in the air with them, lots of people in the circus lie about their age!

“Oh, chum,” Bruce coos, resting his cheek on top of Dick’s head, rubbing his back. “I could never not want you. I love you, it doesn’t matter how old you are.”

“You do now!”

It makes Bruce’s heart shatter into pieces. Because Dick really thinks there was ever a time he didn’t have Bruce wrapped around his little finger, he doesn’t realize that Bruce has loved him from the first moment he wrapped the tiny little acrobat in his coat and carried him away from the puddle of blood he’d been kneeling in.

“I have always loved you,” he whispers. “And I always will. But chum, this is important. I need to know how old you really are.”

Dick sobs into his shoulder one more time before he lets out in a miserable whisper that everyone manages to hear, “Ten.”

And Batman damn near breaks. He lets out a shaky gasp, and his grip tightens on Robin as his knees buckle and he falls to the floor, now holding Robin tightly in his lap.

“You were five?” he asks. “Oh my God, you were five.”

Batman has a breakdown right then and there, but he keeps it very contained. He refuses to let go of Robin, just continues hugging him close and whispering that he loves him, he’s not mad at him, he would never ever get rid of him.

Idk what would happen after this but I know for certain Dick and Billy become bffs.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Eren rolls a couple notes up and slips them right between her boobs while she’s flirting with another guy at the bar! Said guy is in shock, even more so when she shrugs and gets up and follows Eren to the back!! Tbh, she was only flirting with this guy because she looked hot tonight and Eren wasn’t there, was probably supposed to be out of town for some gang related stuff and when he got back he checked her location and decided to turn up. His dick got hard the moment he saw her tits spilling out of that tight dress that was riding dangerously high up her thighs. Probably didn’t even see the loser buying her drinks, just wanted to show “not his girl” (definitely his girl) his appreciation 😏 this incident does not help his case that he’s paying for sex 😭

I got this idea from your tattoo artist fic where he pays Miki by putting the cash she’s refusing to take in between her cleavage!!

K anon i loved this so much I had to write a drabble for it, sorry anon that's why it took me a bit lol!! but omg aww, i forget about tattoo artist Miki and Eren sometimes, this is a great reminder lol!

It's not like Eren to show affection.

Wait scratch that, it's not like her or Eren to show affection. They just don't. They're not dating, they're not friends, they're not anything really, enemies at worst, fuck buddies at best, and she wouldn't even extend the courtesy that far. But at the same time, she finds herself missing him when he's not around, finds her gaze circling the bar, waiting for him to show up, to take her to the back room and fuck her brains out like she wants. She hasn't seen him in a while, can she really be blamed? She'd covertly asked Armin and the blonde had given her this smug all-knowing look that she wanted to smack off his face, but ultimately had told her he was out on gang business, something about betting, bookkeeping, she wasn't too sure.

So here she is, pouting as she talks to some Eren wannabe, some hotshot waving his vape around like he isn't vaping fucking cotton candy. It's almost instantly offputting, but he's about the only acceptable one in the bar right now, so she powers through, at least it doesn't smell like smoke as she's so accustomed to from most of her family members.

It could be worse, but then again, it could be better, he could smell like mint and aftershave and the heady scent of Eren's cologne.

The guy gives her a slick smile, his finger trailing along her forearm in some pathetic attempt at flirtation as he attempts to flag the bartender down to grab her a drink.

"What do you want sugar?" Ugh, a nickname too? There's only one person she'll tolerate nicknames from, and it's only because he's particularly good at evading her punches and has a nice dick, no one else.

Mikasa grits her teeth, smile tight, "A corona is fine." "Oh a beer girl, you sure you don't want something a little fruitier?" Absolutely not on her life, it's much harder for guys to drug beer bottles in her experience, and although she's not sure if that's what he's about just yet, he clearly doesn't know exactly who he's dealing with.

She maintains her smile, icy as can be as she gives him a delicate nod, playing the part of demure party girl who has no idea what's going on here, that this bar is used for drug deals and money handoffs.

"I'm okay, I like my beer." He shrugs, making another aggressive motion for the bartender, but he's once again ignored in favour of higher paying customers with more clout. Mikasa fights to hold back her chuckle, Eren would never be refused and if he was the bartender's head would be on the counter, knife to his throat.

The boytoy has teeth if nothing else.

It's really too bad he's not here.

But God must be smiling down on her or something, because before her date for the night can say another word, make another smarmy grab for her waist, cop a feel at her ass, she feels the very alarming touch of another man on her breasts, warm paper cylinders slipping down her top. She almost whips out the knives, who dares to touch her so callously, so boldly and as she looks down, who the fuck thought she was worth 200 in her titties just for existing. Irate silver eyes turn and just as quickly as she's enraged, she melts again

"Eren," she breathes excitedly, because he looks exceptionally handsome tonight, his hair windswept and clearly still high on adrenaline, shirt sticking to every crevice of his chest and arms.

He shrugs, not even bothering to greet her date, not deeming him worth the energy, talks only to her in a low brusque tone, "You look hot tonight Mika, get yourself something good from the bartender." And then Eren snaps, slamming his right hand rather aggressively down onto the bartop, one quick rumble and the bartender appears almost immediately.

Her date is shocked still, mouth hung open in awe while Mikasa eyes up her first choice for the night, considering all the different ways she wants to bed him. "Get her a shot, Patron, none of that cheap shit," he mulls the rest of his decision over for a moment, giving her a quick once over, before shaking his head conspiratorily, "And a corona I guess."

Mikasa beams at him, and he gives her hip a quick pat before pulling out another wad of cash, he must have done well tonight. He slaps it on the counter, before leaning over the bar to very casually grab an entire bottle of vodka, probably for his table if she had to guess, but she knows the cash will more than cover it. He looks up at her date finally, as if remembering he was there, Eren's pretty face pulls up into a disgusted scowl as he notes his hand on her forearm, "And you, newbie, you want anything?" The boy swallows nervously, shaking his head and Eren shrugs before giving her ass a quick smack and waltzing back to his table with his entire bottle of vodka, like he didn't just blow her mind, didn't just pop 200 between her tits bc she looked pretty tonight. And she supposes that's what really attracts her to Eren in the end, his ability to take complete control of a situation, dominate her attention, no one else has ever captured her interest in quite the same way. And as the bartender hands her the corona and her shot, she thinks she wants that tonight and not some green newbie. She takes her shot quickly, chomping down on the lime and wiping her lips with her sleeve, before grabbing the bottle neck of her corona, "I'll see you later newbie, I've got business to take care of." And then she trounces off to see her man, cuddle up in his lap and sip on his vodka until he agrees to leave with her.

She thinks he deserves a little something for saving her from the douche bag and well, like Eren said, she looks hot tonight, her little black dress barely covering her important bits, someone should appreciate it.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Plums

Dick Grayson x Reader (Drabble)

A/N: Unedited and I kinda freaked myself out while writing this. It's not scary but I'm a coward.

Dick froze when he saw a black sihlouette move at the end of the ballroom. He only caught a glance of her in between people but it was just as he had been told, an alluring woman in a white dress, with a gold and white masquerade mask to match.

He was on his feet instantly, weaving through the throngs of people in the hall towards where he saw her last. It was like she had disappeared into smoke just as he reached and he looked around a little cluelessly before the smell of fresh plums filled his senses.

He turned his head and against the light of the moon, he saw her sihlouette again. Smooth skin and long, silky hair that seemed to bounce with life moved in the shadows and he moved towards it, exiting the ballroom and moving to the hallways.

The hallways of the building were old and gave an antique feeling, the architecture from way before he was born and the smell of old wood and something earthy was not enough to cover the smell of plums.

Dick stalked through the straight hall, turning the corner and heading towards where she had probably just moved. The smell got even stronger.

She was called Phantom; some call her an urban legend but some swear on their life they had seen her before. She appeared during socialite events, though never seen on the invite list. The woman, wearing a mask even though it wasn't a masquerade, would meet the host and entice him.

She was described as having ordinary features but there was something that pulled them to her, a magnetic attraction one would call it. They would spend the night together but she would never be seen by him again and they would say the same to the police when they reported her as a thief.

What had she stolen? Well it was different each time.

She was never dressed the same, one had said she was wearing a deep navy, hair styled back in a way that made her seem regal. Another had remembered the woman in a seductive red dress, with a slit cut high to reveal the length of her smooth leg and a tempting neckline. Mysterious black, with lace gloves that made her seem unapproachable. A light lavender ball gown that fell around her, giving her an air of innocence. A silk emerald that revealed her curves while also remaining classy.

But they all remembered that she had the sultry scent of plums.

Even though they described her well, no one else at the ball seemed to recall seeing a woman in a mask, leaving with the host of the event. No one else had seen her.

Dick tried not to let the shadows get to him as he ventured deeper through the halls. The smell of plums got stronger as he entered a room to find the woman facing the crackling fireplace. When she turned, her mask was in her hand and revealed her face to him. She was nothing out of the ordinary, he agreed, but there was something enticing about her.

The sheer sleeves of her dress looked like clouds hugging your arms and he felt his head get unclear the more he looked at her. A beautiful dress that delicately framed her body caught his attention next before he moved his eyes back to her face.

Gentle eyes that stared at him with a glimmer and lips stained a natural pink. She was the picture of elegance but he felt his mouth water with need. The smell of plums was still in the room, but this time warmer and less present, like the heat of steam. He could feel himself getting drunk off the scent.

"Who are you?" He asked, despite his nerves lighting on fire.

"I should be asking you the same, afterall you followed me in here." Her voice was smooth as honey, just as enticing as the rest of her.

"Are you phantom?"

She chuckled, the sound revertebrating around the room and his toes curled, "That's the name given to me by someone else. But I suppose you could call me that."

"You—" His head was getting murky, "I'm here to arrest you."

She smiled at him and even though he knew her intent was to patronize and tease, her smile still looked innocent. It gave him butterflies, "Whatever for?"

"For robbing multiple people."

"Who's to say that they didn't deserve what came to them?" She purred, walking up to him and placing a hand on his chest. He felt even dizzier. What was going on?

"Doesn't matter. I'm going to arrest you."

"Even though they're wrong and I was just making things right?"

"Even then," He spoke, taking a deep breath and the smell of plums almost made him faint, "Justice can't be tainted."

She smiled at him once again, pulling away and everything ceased; the dizziness, the smell, the cloudiness. It all stopped and all was left was her standing in the centre of the room and the sound of the crackling fire.

"Go to the garden. You'll find what you need there."

Yet another thing he couldn't quite understand, Dick turned on his heel and walked out, not bothering to ask another question as he left the room before he realized that he needed to take her into custody and stepped back in.

The only thing left was the sound of the crackling fire and the faint smell of plums.

He'd go down to the garden, like she told him and buried underneath the plum tree, he'd find her body. Her white dress was dirtied with mud and blood, her hair thatched and matted, her body bruised and decayed but he'd recognize her anyway.

She had been killed and buried here years ago, by the very men that reported her.

Her phantom was all that was left, roaming the halls of the men that had killed her, the smell of plums trailing her everywhere.

Forever Taglist:

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[gguksgalaxy]

Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug.  Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?”  Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.”  It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?”  He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?”  You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.”  Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.”  It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.”  There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.”  He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.”  Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”  

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.”  You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.”  The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.”  You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so  raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.”  Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.”  You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”  You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”  

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch.  Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly.  “Sit up, please.”  Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten​ @yoongs-jeontae​ @wintaejk​ @guksweet​ @rynofpentacles​ @mikroparadise​ @jeonggukkiepabo​ @softlyjiminie​ Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk​ + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth​ @teresaisla​​ @yeontanie21​​ @tessanator97​​ @ladyartemesia​ @dayjeons​​ @djasheyash99​​ @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz​​ @bbangtanlove95​ @zeharilisharaban​ @jungkooksgoodgirl​​ @topanga27​​ @pjmochii​​ @iwanttohitmyself​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @bel-abysse​​ @jiminsreads​​ @jungkookspromise​​

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work. 

[ellana-ravenwood]

The day he understood what Death means - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : The youngest Wayne makes a shocking discovery...And will need his parents, siblings, and the one and only Alfred, to recover from it. /Drabble.

I don’t know. I was thinking about this. How when you’re a kid, realizing that one day you’ll die, but worst, that the people you love will die, is sort of traumatic...And wanted to write about it. So. Here we are, with little Thomas eh. I hope you will like it :) :

My masterlists blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

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If you have no idea who Thomas is, he appears in those stories (long story short he’s the youngest kiddo, biological of Batmom and Bruce) : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper Shaky steps and bad teaching, Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, Wild Child 2, “We want them back”, How do you make babies ?“ and Mom got lost again”

                                                   ******

Realizing your loved ones are not immortal for the first time can be traumatic. 

Especially if they’re amazing, if they’re your heroes, if you admire them beyond all measure, if they love you unconditionally just like you love them so damn much, and if you can’t even imagine your life without seeing them every day.

If you can’t even fathom the fact that maybe, one day, they won’t be there when you wake up and go look for them. And that they will never be there again. 

And so it was particularly quite the shocking discovery for little Thomas Clark Wayne, 5 and a half years old, to find out about that certain thing called...”Death”. 

It happened on a moody, rainy Summer day. The weather outside was awful, even for Gotham City. And it meant that Thomas was calmly playing inside, rather than getting up to some shenanigans in the garden. 

His parents were home, it was one of those rare day they both had off. 

Which always filled little Tommy with joy. It wasn’t often he could get them both with him !! In the end, the fact it was rainy outside was good. It meant they’d probably all snuggle up later in the day, and watch a film, a mug of hot cocoa in their hands. 

You would probably throw a blanket over him, and keep him close, sandwiched between you and his dad. His father would fall asleep half-way through the film, which would annoy you and Damian. 

Damian would join for sure. Sitting next to you. Yes. He would. Maybe Tim too, if he wasn’t too busy with college ? Oh he would surely make the time to come. And Cass ? Yes. Yes Cass would be there, sitting in her usual spot, on the floor right in front of you (or maybe Tommy). Because she knew you’d gently run your hand through her hair, and your youngest son slowly took the habit to do the same. Which was so soothing to Cass...Duke would certainly be there, he never said no to a good movie. 

Maybe, because it was a rainy day, Dick and Jason would come too ? Unlikely, but Thomas could hope. He loved having his entire family in one spot. 

They’d ask him to do his “puppy eyes” and convince Alfred to join them too, and not work. 

Alfred had an armchair reserved just for him. Right next to the couch where Bruce would sit, leaving enough space for Ace to lay down (Damian’s dog, Titus, always preferred to be near his master, who would more often than not be sitting next to you, laying his head on your shoulder, even as he was not a child anymore...Yes, Titus sat next to Cass, at Damian’s feet, letting his head fall down in Cass’ laps). 

Ace...Ace didn’t feel well yesterday, and this morning, the “dog doctor” came. 

Thomas heard him say they needed to give him a...an “indection” or something ? (An injection, really) So he’d probably get better. Shots were supposed to get you better or to avoid you getting sick, that’s what you told him. 

His dad looked upset, but it didn’t alarm Thomas much. Because his dad was always upset when him or his siblings would get a shot, he hated going, so it was probably the same thing. 

Come to think of it, Thomas hadn’t seen Ace since the “vekerinarianan” (or whatever it was pronounced) came earlier in the day. 

He suddenly wanted some “doggle” (dog cuddles), and so he put down the toys he was playing with, and went to look for him. 

Maybe, he could also round up the rest of his family so they’d start movie time earlier ? 

Hyped to have some family time, as he considered his dogs family for sure, he went on the hunt to find Ace, and gather everyone else. 

If only. If only he had known...

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

“Aaaace !! Aaace ? Ace boy, where are you ?” 

This was odd. Usually, Ace would come running if he heard the little one’s voice. That dog loved children, and he made it his mission to protect all of them (bonus point if he had some snuggle, and a few treats, while doing it). 

Bruce told him long ago to protect his kids...So Ace was always there. 

Maybe he wanted to play hide and seek ? Thomas would play that game with Titus and Damian, Ace never seemed very interested, but maybe he changed his mind ? 

“Ace ? Aaaacceeee ?” 

The boy roamed the manor, but every room Ace would usually hang in were empty. 

Finally, he decided he’d ask his parents, who would usually hang out in...oh, they weren’t in their usual spot either. In their bedroom, maybe ? 

Thomas ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, sure that he would find Ace, and his parents, asleep in the master’s bedroom. When they had their day off, his mama and daddy would often take long naps together.  

Thomas immediately knew something was wrong when the door to the room was wide open. Slowly, he approached the place and...surely his parents were there. 

But something was off. 

His dad was laying in the bed, back to the door, his head laid in your lap. One of your hand was caressing his head soothingly, while the other was drawing calming circles on his back. 

Definitely something was not normal. You’d do that to your kids when they were sad, or sick...Was daddy sick ?! This gave Thomas a little fright. 

You whisper something into Bruce’s ears, and he doesn’t answer, just shaking his head to say “yes”. And so you stand up, after giving him a kiss on the cheek, and...You spot your youngest son. 

You smiled at him reassuringly, and go to him. 

“Hey little buddy. You should give a big hug to Daddy, he’s very sad today.” 

You say, walking past him and ruffling his hair. 

From the direction you were taking, you were going to the kitchen, and Thomas just instantly assumed you were going to brew some tea for his dad. When Bruce was sad, you’d always brew some tea for him, from his mother’s garden (which was kept up nice and clean by you and Alfred, now). 

Worried about his dad, Thomas slowly walked to him and climbed on the big bed. Bruce turned around to see what this new weight was, as he knew you had just left and...He smiled. 

Of this wide pure genuine smile he gave his family only. 

But there was a hint of sadness behind his eyes, and Thomas didn’t like that one bit. So the little boy crawled to his dad, and nestled next to him, wrapping his little arms around his dad’s neck and holding tightly. 

Bruce engulfed his son in his own arms, holding onto the little one, burrying his face in his hair. There was always something comforting, in the smell his kiddo had. It was a mix of your smell, which was always soothing to him, but also something more...Something soft and sweet. 

Just like his son. 

Little Thomas was the epitome of a sweet child. It was a miracle, a man like him made a child this cute and happy. Ah, but he wasn’t raising him alone of course. There was you, and his siblings, and Alfred... 

After a pause of the little boy holding his dad, he whispered slowly : 

“Daddy, why are you sad Daddy ? Please don’t be sad, it makes me sad too.”

Thomas unwrapped his arms from around his dad’s neck, and squished his little hands on Bruce’s cheeks. Which made Bruce sigh fondly, chuckling a little as he said, honestly (he shouldn’t hide this sort of things) : 

“Because Ace is gone.”  

There’s another silence, during which Thomas tries to understand why is the fact Ace went somewhere so sad. He cannot figure it out, so he asks : 

“But, he’ll come back daddy. Like always. Yes ? Ace is a good boy.” 

“Was.”

Bruce is clumsy in his grief. He always been. He’s not sure how to broach the subject to his son, how to explain to him their dog was just too old and sick to make it...He doesn’t know how to explain death to him. 

“Was ?” 

“Ace is gone for good.” 

“What do you mean Daddy ? Where did he go ? Why couldn’t we see him again ? Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Oh. Oh the sweet innocence of a child that is maybe a little too sheltered by his family (he’s the youngest, the one they’re trying to keep away from the horror they see every day as much as they can...Although he’s still trained, all of them hope he will never become a Robin, or worst, a Batman). 

“Did he move out, like Dick ?” 

Sweet, sweet Thomas. Not able to even fathom that Ace is never coming back...and why would he ? How could he know what his father meant ? 

“No, no he didn't move out. He left us, to a place we can’t follow him to.” 

Another short pause. And you could see the gears in little Thomas’ head turning. After a little bit, he asks :

“...The toilets ?”

This makes his father chuckle, even in this sad times. But he continues : 

“No. Not the toilets. He...He went really far away, where we can’t ever see him again.” 

This idea is so foreign to your son, that he raises himself on one of his elbow and exclaims : 

“Why would he do that ? Does he not love us anymore ?” 

Obviously, the thought is distressing to the little bird. So Bruce says : 

“No no no, of course he still loves us...loved, us. But he had to go.”

“But why ?” 

“Because he was getting very old, and sick.”

“But we don't mind daddy, right ? We don’t mind ? He doesn't have to go away for that, I don’t care if he doesn’t play like he used to, I want him to stay ! Tell him daddy, call him on the phone to tell him to come back.” 

Bruce is lost. How ? How can he explains what death means ? He thought about this moment coming many times, but never told him anything as he thought that he had time to know what it meant. He had time...

How do you tell a child that one of his favorite “person” in the world is dead ?

“Unfortunately buddy, we have some sad news.”

His savior. You, as usual. With two cups of tea, and a cup of hot cocoa on a tray. As you went downstairs to get some “pick me up” for Bruce, you knew your son was gonna need it too. 

“What news mama ?” 

“Ace. He died today.” 

You actually thought about it as you were preparing everything for them. How to talk about this ? You decided to go with “honesty”. Not brutal honesty though. You weren’t about to traumatize your son. 

But you thought it was important he knew what happened to Ace. As a child, you hated how your brothers tried to make you think your ferret ran away to Las Vegas or something of the like. 

You understood this sentiment, of course. But you also remembered how betrayed you felt when you finally understood “death” and realized your beloved Mister Will Ferret was NOT in Sin City having fun, but just died...

The truth was important. 

Especially about such subjects. 

Children weren’t dumb. And they had every right to know certain truth.

Did you wish your son could stay innocent for longer ? Of course. But he still had a right to know what happened to his dog. To be treated like a person and be explained things. 

People, too often, treats children as some kind of idiots who wouldn’t comprehend complex things anyway, and who have to be protected at all cost from anything...

Kids were clever. You had a bunch of them to prove it so. But above that, although you agreed kids had to be protected...You weren't one of those person who thought you should lie to your children in order to do so. 

 Because one day, he’ll know what death is. He’ll know what happened to Ace. And what if the fact you lied that day, settles a slight distrust in him towards anything you’ll ever tell him ? Just like it did with you and your brothers ? 

No. You thought at first it was a good idea to delay such a conversation. But why ? Because it would make you more comfortable ? That didn’t sound very fair in regard of your boy.

Everyone always talked about “the birds and the bees” talk, but never about something that was even more inescapable than that...

Death. 

You give him a few seconds to take in your words. “Ace died today.” You wait for his reaction. He seems to think about it, having vaguely heard of “death” before...finally he asks : 

“What does it mean ?” 

He’s sitting up in the bed now. Bruce did the same, encircling his arms around his boy protectively (old habits die hard). But he’s determined to explain things to him too. You and Bruce were always rather in sync, about how you should raise your children. 

“It means he will no longer be with us. He passed away to something else.” 

“To what ?” 

“No one really knows.” 

“Will we see him again ?” 

“No.” 

“Why ?”

“Because he’s dead.” 

“And being dead means you can’t see anyone anymore ?”

“Being dead means you are not living on this Earth anymore, so yes, you cannot see them anymore.” 

“It means we can’t see him ? And what do you mean not on Earth ? Is he in Space ? Can we see him if we go to the watchtower ?” 

“I mean in our life, we will not see Ace again. He won’t be with us ever again. He’s not in space, he’s just gone.” 

“Because he’s dead ?” 

“Because he’s dead.” 

“So, being dead means we don’t get to see someone ever again ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ever ever ?” 

You decide to leave any conversations about a possible after-life aside, as it’s clear this, he’s not quite old enough to comprehend. So you keep on talking about the truth, with the support of Bruce. 

“Yes. Ever ever.” 

It takes Thomas a few minutes to take in all those new informations. Bruce is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, behind the boy. And your son is clearly lost in deep thoughts...Up until finally, finally tears are starting to well up in his eyes. 

“But I didn’t even say goodbye !”

“Unfortunately, we don’t always get to say goodbye...” 

“But mama, how will he know I loved him so much if I didn’t even say goodbye before he left ? How could you let him go before I did ?”

“I’m sorry, if I could chose I would’ve-...He knew you loved him and-”

“Are you going to die too ?!”

The dreaded question. Dreadest of them all, really. But you can’t lie to him. Not now that you started to explain things. 

“Yes. Everyone dies one day.” 

“But but but...but I don’t want you to die ! And Daddy ?” 

Bruce nods, and...and that’s when it finally happens. 

The awful moments your sweet innocent boy realizes what death sort-of means. That one day, none of his parents will be in his life anymore. Than one day, he’ll lose his siblings, and Alfred. 

Just like he lost Ace. Because he was “old and sick”. But...Thomas knew a lot of sick people ! And a lot of old people ! Were they going to die too, without him being able to say goodbye ?!

And so the tears started to fall. And oh, oh did they fall. 

Bruce held his son against his heart, drawing soothing circles on his back, just like you usually do. And you came to sit next to them, encircling them in your arms as well. 

Thomas was trying to talk, but nothing came out very clearly as he cried, cried, cried and cried some more. 

When he finally calmed down, he was slowly falling asleep, crying drained him of all his energy. That night, there was no “movie time”, but comforting snuggles with his parents... 

Thomas had finally discover what “Death” meant.

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

“Oh my God Thomas !”

Bruce’s heart drops.

The entire scene goes in slow motion, and the fearless Batman can see his entire life flash in front of his eyes, as his tiny son is running towards him, while a few thugs were about to shoot automatic weapons at him...

“There’s a kid ! There’s a kid !”

“Who cares, we have the bat right at our mercy, just shoot !”

“I can’t shoot a kid...”

“Should we shoot ?”

The few seconds of surprise after Thomas bursted in allow Damian to swoop down, and to get rid of everyone. Slowly, a serious face on, your son walks to his dad and, solemnly, he says :

“This was too close, father. And...Thomas...”

“I know Damian, I know.”

Your little boy was inconsolable, clinging to his dad.

They didn’t even have to ask him how he got there. It was obvious he somehow snuck into the Batmobile (which wasn’t that much of a surprise, although it was already quite a feat...Thomas was small, but also very stealthy, as he was taught to be).

He was only five, and it wasn’t really clear to him yet his dad was that “Batman” everyone talked about, that his siblings were also vigilantes...But he knew that when they went out at night, they were often in danger.

And that night. That night right after the one Thomas learned what Death was...He snuck in the car, so he would make sure “she” would not take her dad away ! Or her brothers and sister !

Only Damian and Bruce were in the car, on patrol together. The rest of the kids were scattered across the city, and you were taking care of the bat computer (nowadays you were the one doing so to give some relief to Alfred).

Thomas took the habit to fall asleep in the cave, in a bed there just for him...and he must’ve snuck into the car. 

It was nobody’s fault. It was very unlike the boy, to do such a thing.

He got into the car. When Damian and his father got out of it to apprehend a few of Two-Face’s thug, he stayed behind, looking at what they did...but when he saw those men about to shoot his dad (a proper ambush), he jumped out, punching every buttons (which was quite dangerous itself) to find which one opened the door, and then he ran to his dad...

The surprised probably saved Bruce. But it also almost killed him with a heart attack. 

What if those men didn’t hesitate long enough for Damian to take care of them ? What if they shot anyway, ignoring the surprising appearance of a small child ? What if they had recognize who that kid was, too ? (Unlikely, this was a time where Thomas was still quite sheltered from media, as you tried to give him a childhood as normal as you all possibly could). 

What if they shot anyway...

Bruce doesn’t think he would’ve survived the death of his youngest son. He was sure, actually, that he would’ve killed those men. 

That is, if Damian didn’t do it first. 

But it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen, but it was so close. So close. 

Later, when everything calmed down, Thomas would explain he jumped in the car to “keep death away”, to protect his daddy and brother. To make sure Death wouldn’t take them. 

And that's when you all understood Ace’s death, and the discovery that everyone dies one day, one way or another, truly was “traumatic” for your baby. 

From that point on, you made sure that Thomas would be in the cave...but this event. This event really unfolded a problem you knew you’d have to tackle truly one day. 

You just had no idea yet how to help your son. 

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

Damian had told Jason the debacle that was yesterday. About his parents explaining to their little brother what it meant to be dead. And about how it lead to Thomas sneaking into the Batmobile and running in front of danger to “protect” his dad. 

Because of where he grew up, Damian always knew what death meant. And he never cared much (or convinced himself he never cared much). He understood from a very young age what all this shenanigans was...

Jason did too. He found his mother, dead, when he was three years old. He grew up surrounded by death, in the gutter of Gotham. He knew. He did. 

But Thomas. 

Thomas was a “normal” 5 years old boy, as normal you can be in such a family. He trained a little, and sort of knew about his dad being “Batman” (but it seemed he didn’t understand he was ACTUALLY the Batman people talked about in the city). 

He spend most of his nights in a little area made just for him, with a bed and such, in the batcave (he hated sleeping upstairs alone, so he would sleep in the batcave and you’d pick him up to bring him in  his bed once you’d go to bed, and/or once the rest of your family would get home). 

So for a little one like Thomas, who was pure and sweet and nice...It was a shock, to know one day he’d lose the people he loved. 

He was inconsolable, at Ace’s funerals (thrown at the back of the Manor).  

He couldn’t get over the fact he didn’t get to say goodbye, and that he would never play with his dog anymore. 

It made it worst, that Ace’s death made everyone else sad. That dog truly was a member of the family... 

“I know you're feeling very sad. I'm sad, too. We all loved Ace so much, and he oved us, too.”

You told him a few times, tryin to put words on his emotions and helping him understand...God, to Damian, you truly were the most amazing mother. Always knew what to say, how to say it, when to say it.  

But Thomas was still blue, and it was so unlike his usual bubbly personality. 

And so, both Damian and Jason made it their mission to distract their little brother, and...it worked. For the most part. It really worked. 

Amongst all his siblings, Damian and Jason were the ones that loved having a little brother the most. Not that the others didn’t, of course ! They just were a little less willing to play for hours on end with a little kid. 

They were rather busy. Jason and Damian always found ways...They were an unlikely pairs at first glance. Most people would think Damian was the closest to Dick, and Jason too. But no. They were equally as close to all their siblings, in different ways. 

But Damian and Jason, they had an extra connection. Jason was there, when Damian was a baby. He didn’t remember his own name, and was used by the Al’Ghuls after they resurrected him...But he was still one of the only person in Damian’s life that truly valued him. 

Fate, right ? A funny thing. After all, how small did the world have to be for two of Bruce’s sons to meet in such a way ? A hidden son, and one he thought dead, at that ?! 

In any case. They were closer than most would think. And they also were linked not only by the Al’Ghuls, but by how they were both ripped off of an actual childhood, and therefor wanted to make sure their little brother had one too (Cass was the same, but more subtle, and discreet). 

And so...

They played, made art pieces, jigsaw puzzles, watched his favorite movies, cooked...Anything to take his mind off of “Death”. 

That little boy would overthink too much, for such a young age. 

But overall, Damian and Jason did a good job distracting him from the pain. 

They did an amazing job. 

You were so proud of how they took care of their baby brother (and it would give yourself more time to go cheer up the “Oldest Wayne”, your dear husband, who definitely had a hard time getting over his dog’s death...). 

Only, there was one problem...And that problem was that neither Damian nor Jason, just like everyone else, were immortal. 

And this, this, Thomas would realize very soon. 

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

“More compresses, Master Tim !” 

“On it Al !” 

The loud noises woke Thomas up. You knew. You knew you should’ve gone up to bed earlier. Tuck him in, and wait for your family to come back. 

Ah. But when they all arrived in the cave, ALL of them, including Dick who did not live at the manor anymore...You knew there was a problem. 

And indeed. Jason had been badly hurt. Not something that couldn’t be fixed, but ah, once again, too damn close. 

Everyone was on the tail of a high profile serial killer, the newcomer called “Dr Pyg”, and...Collateral damage. It happened, in this line of work. 

It wasn’t easy. Especially when it was one of your baby. But you had to keep a leveled head, as you helped Alfred fix your boy. 

You had taken medical trainings early in in your relationship with Bruce. For obvious reasons. And there was rarely a day it didn’t come in handy. 

In any case, all the noises around woke Thomas up. 

Before. Before he knew what death truly meant, he would’ve been worried. He would've cried. He would’ve been distressed. Of course. 

And one of his siblings would’ve taken care of him, reassure him, soothe and console him, and little Thomas would be ok again. 

Before he knew what death truly meant. 

He was so small anyway, most of the time he’d forget things, or just not understand them...but he was five now. Close to the age of reason. And definitely aware of his surroundings enough now to pay attention, and remember things. 

And he knew what death truly meant. 

He clung to Jason for dear life, even as everyone reassured him he was actually ok. Jason himself was conscious, he had been badly hurt but nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

He needed some rest for sure, but it was fine, really. 

It wasn’t fine for Thomas. He yelled, threw the biggest tantrum he ever threw, yelled some more that they should stop. That he didn’t want them to die. That whatever they were doing...He begged them to stop. 

Never before in your life, had any of you witness Thomas being in such a state. He was inconsolable. You couldn’t calm him down, no matter what...

And once more, it’s only because of exhaustion that he finally relaxed. But yet, still in his sleep, he clung to Jason’s sleeve, as if afraid his brother would be gone when he’d wake up. 

It tore yours and Bruce’s heart apart, to see your baby like this. But to be honest...neither of you knew what to do...

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

“Where’s Damian mama ? Where is he ?” 

Thomas was truly panicked. 

The first day, he thought maybe his brother was busy with school and such. The second day, he started to worry. But now ? Three days in a row with Damian not at the dinner table ? Or in his room ? Or in the batcave ?! 

It made Thomas anxious. What happened to his brother ? Was he...was he...DID DEATH TAKE HIM AWAY ? 

“Where’s Dami mama ? Where is he ?!”  Thomas kept asking, crying. And it took you moment to finally realize what your son must’ve thought. When you did, you picked him up and calmed him down, explaining Damian was simply over at Jon’s for a few days... 

And from that day on, you’d make sure to tell him why anyone would be gone for any amount of time. 

That night, Bruce and you talked about what you could do to help Thomas get over his consuming fear of losing one of you. 

But nothing really came to your minds. 

And it was awful, to feel like a failure like that. 

Later on, your Damian would tell you you were NOT failing at parents because you were a little lost about this. After all, none of your other kids got into quite a crisis like this one. He said maybe considering a therapist could do ? But oh, oh Thomas was so little. 

And if words were out that Thomas Wayne, barely five years old, was seeing a therapist ? The scandals would be unending, and would it really help your son ? 

Damian joined in in the search for a way to soothe his baby brother. He never said “no” to cuddles from him, but lately...Lately, Thomas almost became overbearing, as he made sure he’d always sort of have his eyes on everyone. 

And it wasn’t healthy, for such a little boy to worry so much. 

Damian missed his carefree baby brother. He knew he had to eventually grow up, of course, and that he’d have some hardships but...he was just five and a half ! He wasn’t suppose to be so scared of death ! 

And so he thought, nights and days, of a way to soothe him. But just like you and Bruce, this matter was quite delicate...

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

It seemed like Cass was the only one able to truly console him, and make him relax. She would sing him songs, just like you did to her when she felt sad. 

She would tell him tales of Death as a good thing, inspiring herself from many legends from around the world. 

She would try to put perspective on everything, in a way you truly admired. 

She never spoke too much, your Cass...But when she did, every words were carefully chosen and crafted into truly beautiful things. 

And it would soothe your boy. 

But only as long as he was with Cass. And he couldn’t always be with her. 

You didn’t have her talent to tell those tales, and your singing was working only for a few moments to put him to sleep but...you couldn’t always have him sleep. You had to think of more viable options. 

Nonetheless, when Thomas was really too anxious, Cass would be there. 

Relieving everyone of their worry, as she could calm her baby brother in matter of seconds. In those  moments, you wished time could stop. You truly did...

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

Thomas would cling to you and his dad the most. His siblings were often out and about, but you two ? Well you took some time off to be with your youngest son, to be there for him in this odd times...

And you weren’t sure it was such a good idea, in the end. 

He would often just snuggle up to you or Bruce, listening to your heartbeats, which would calm him...You’d normally never say no to hugs from your children. But this was all starting to become so unhealthy for the little one. 

What could you do ? What could you do ?!

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

Duke was panicking. 

Thomas was doing fine today, and Duke felt like he royally fucked up. 

Thomas was worried about Duke, telling him to be careful and that his heart would break if Duke ever died...Which melted Duke’s heart. 

It made him feel so loved and accepted. And he wanted to help little Thomas so much...

That’s when he made a rookie mistake. 

After all, he was still quite new at this “big brother” thing. 

“There are things worst than death.” 

Is what he told him. What was he thinking ? Reflecting on things, Duke realized he didn't think it through. To him, it was a soothing way to say death wasn’t that bad. But...Ah, ah it made Thomas cry. 

“What ? What is worst than not seeing you guys ever again ?!”  

At that moment, Duke hadn’t realized quite yet how much he fucked up. So he said : “Well, my parents can't remember me, can’t remember who they are...They’re not dead, but they’re not here anymore. They’re physically here, but they don’t know me, they don’t know how to hug me, they can’t be my parents anymore...Yet they’re still alive.” 

The horrified look on Thomas’ face is what gave him a hint that this really wasn’t a good thing to say...

“No no no wait Thomas, don’t cry please, I was trying to tell you...Wait Thomas, please, no. Oooh buddy, buddy I’m so sorry.” 

It almost made Duke cry too, to witness the one he considered his little brother in such distress. He wasn’t trained for this ! He wasn’t trained for this !!!

This was the first time Duke truly felt like an older brother, truly felt like he understood this important role. He had to think before saying something. He had to protect his baby brother. He had to find ways to soothe him...

“Ok here we are, here we are everything is a-okay, you’re ok, things will be ok...” 

Duke picked Thomas up, and started to rock him back and forth slowly, just like his own mom did to him...He mixed the way his mom used to put him to sleep, with your soothing singing. With words he borrowed from you. 

“I’m here, I’m here. Don’t worry I’m here, I won’t go anywhere. Things will be ok baby boy, things will be ok. You’re gonna be ok. I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t mean any of it...” 

Duke had been living with you for a while now. He came to see all of you as his second family, even as his parents were still alive, and a constant chain holding him back at times...a chain that broke right at this moment. 

Thomas was his little brother. He truly was. 

And Duke was determined to be there for him. Especially after he made him cry. 

“It’s ok Tommy, cry all you want. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to cry.” 

You always told him that. It was ok to cry. To be angry. To want to break everything. To want his mom...

But you were his mom too now. You were. And you had such a way with words. Such a soothing touch. Even as he was grown up now, you always knew what to say. You always did. 

“You’re ok, right ? Yeaaaah you’re ok. See, things are fine, we chill, we chill.” 

Duke was slowly swaying from left to right, Thomas in his arm, slowly lulling him to sleep, calming him down. His voice seemed to have the same effect than yours...Because he was calm. And because he meant it.

The love. 

The love he had for this little boy. 

It poured out of him, easily, naturally. 

He loved that kid so much. And he wanted him to be ok. And it seemed like Thomas ? Thomas felt it. He felt the love. Just like Duke felt the love of all of you...

That little bean put himself in such a state at the mere thought of Duke dying, of one of his brother leaving...And Duke. Duke realized he felt the same. 

Couldn’t imagine any of them dying. 

And so he poured love in his every word, and swayed from side to side, calming Thomas, and making sure he knew...He knew that, he was right there. 

Right there. 

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

“You’re getting old, Alfred.” 

You said jokingly, as you beat him at chess. And oh. Oh what a mistake you just did. 

“Old ? I don’t want you to die Alfred, I don’t !” 

Thomas was playing next to you. You hadn’t thought about his “trauma” for a little while as he seemed to feel a little better lately...But oh, he plunged right back into it there. 

Because of you. You felt absolutely awful...

“I’ll fight Death for you Alfred ! I will ! I won’t let her take you !!” 

It took a while, as it became usual now, to calm him down. He was ready to throw hands with Death. Fierce that no one would take his “grandpa”. But he was still very scared and sad...

“I’m a terrible mother...”

You told Bruce that night. And he held you against him, consoling you, saying it wasn’t your fault and that it was just friendly banter with Alfred as usual...

“You are the literal opposite of a terrible mother, my love.”

“But Broosh, I made him- I-” 

You sniff, unable to control your sobs as you remember your poor little boy holding Alfred and yelling at Death she can’t take him. The poor butler himself didn’t even know how he could do anything to calm him down...

“We’ll find a solution my love, we’ll find a solution...” 

This entire night, Bruce stayed up although he was exhausted, so he could soothe you and take care of you. Skipping patrol (knowing though the city was safe with his children out). 

At some point during the night, Thomas came to your room. 

It was often, lately, that after a nightmare he’d come running to you. His nightmares would often be about losing you...

You had finally fallen asleep, in your husband’s arms, and Bruce gestured to your boy to not make too much noice. 

Sweet little Thomas acquiesced, and slowly came to the bed, taking the hand his father gave him. 

Bruce was about to fall asleep too, knowing you had finally found sleep...But now, he wasn’t going to. Not until he made sure his son was asleep as well. 

All he could do for now, was being there for you two. Try to soothe you as best her could. As best he could...

Sleep was restless and full of nightmares. 

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

Dick would try to often visit his parents and siblings. As much as he could, which wasn’t always easy, with his work in Bludhäven. But nothing is more sacred than family...He realized that over the years.

During those moments, it would be rather normal for Thomas to go settle in his oldest brother’s laps. He would make the most of seeing him.

So today, as Dick was in the kitchen trying to make himself a cup of coffee, it was no surprise when little Tommy came to see him.

You had bought a new espresso machine, and Dick had no idea how it worked...Slowly, his littlest brother came in, dragged a chair next to him, and used it to climb on the counter.

He then started to make Dick’s cup of coffee, without much of a word being exchanged. Dick smiled widely, his little bro was so cute and clever. In no time, he had make a great cup of coffee for him.

But...Something seemed to bother him. Tommy was an exuberant child when around his family, but he had been quiet right there. He didn’t jump in his brother’s arms like he usually does, and he wasn’t telling him all about what he missed since last time he came in !

Was it still this all thing about being worried about death ? 

“Are you ok little wing ?”

Ever since Jason, “Little Wing” or “Bird” became the common denomination for his younger siblings. A term of endearment that they all (secretly or not) loved.

Tommy seemed to think a little, while raising his arms, signifying he wanted Dick to pick him up.

Dick did, of course, and they went to sit at the kitchen counter, and as usual, Tommy settled down on Dick’s laps. He turned around and, after another short pause (Dick always knew when to stay silent, and wait for the other person to speak first) said :

“Dickie, are mom and dad not your mom and dad ?” 

“Mm ?” 

“Your real mom and dad, they died ? You can’t see them no more now ?”

There was a lump in Dick’s throat. Not because he thought about his parents no. He actually came to peace with their death long ago now. And though he missed them every day, it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

He was lucky to find another loving family...From which that little worried kiddo in front of him was an important part of. 

“Yes, I can’t see them anymore.”

“It hurts ?” 

“It used to. Now less. I miss them, but I wasn’t alone.”

“Because you have our mom and dad ?”

“Yes.” 

Dick ruffles his hair fondly. 

“Do you wish you’d still have your real mom and dad ?”

“Mom and dad ARE my real parents too. I was lucky enough to find new ones. Not everyone is as lucky, like dad. He was alone for a long time” 

“What about Alfred ?” 

“It took dad a while to realize that Alfred was a second father to him” 

“So...Will you be my second dad if dad goes ?” 

Dick feels another lump in his throat. Bigger this time. 

He couldn’t even imagine the day he’ll lose this “second dad”, this one he had now called “dad” for longer even than his own biological father...Dick was 8, when he came into yours and Bruce’s life. 

He spend more  years with you two than with his “real” parents. You never replaced them, no. You just..became his parents too. 

He would never forget his biological parents. But he would never diminish the impact his adoptive one had. The love you and Bruce gave him. 

Would he be good enough to be Thomas “second dad” ? After all, he currently had about the age Bruce had when he adopted him...

But Dick couldn’t imagine losing Bruce too. Losing another father. No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. 

Thomas was already moving on, asking more questions : 

“Will I find another mom and dad too if mom and dad die ? Or will I be alone like dad ? Will I have Alfred forever ?”

“I-I don’t know buddy.”

“What if I lose all of you at the same time ? I will be all alone then.” 

“You won’t.”

“But what if I do ?” 

“I’ll always be there.” 

“You can’t know that, can you ?” 

“Maybe, but this will never happen. You will never be alone.” 

“You really think so ?”

“I Do. And I promise little wing, I promise...You won’t lose all of us. You won’t.” 

Dick held his brother even tighter against him, and missed the unconvinced expression on Thomas’ face. 

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

Your youngest son was still utterly terrified of losing any of you. But his terrible fit would pass now, he would calm down more easily, and wouldn’t cry until exhaustion...But it didn’t mean he wasn't afraid anymore. 

Unfortunately. 

“Death” was still a constant on his mind. One of the biggest question. Without much answers. 

His mother and father said no one knew what happened after “death”, but Thomas wasn’t convinced. So he went to the only one he knew would tell him the truth, and was most likely to know...Tim.

His older brother was currently in the garden, studying for his finals. But oh he’d take a break for his little brother, of course. 

Especially lately, as said little brother was overly worried and needed constant reassurance. 

“Hi Timmy.” 

“Hey little one.” 

“Bothering you ?”

“You are not bothering me, never.” 

“Can I ask you a question then ?”

“Of course.” 

“What happens when we die ?” 

Oof. 

OOOOF. 

Not something Tim could say he expected to be asked. Even as he knew Thomas was sort of obsessed with this lately. And ah...Ah he started to get lost into physiological effects of death, into science, into things Thomas could definitely not understand...

And into things he didn’t care about. 

Thomas had no interest in knowing what happens to the corporeal side of things. To our bodies. He wanted to know where “we” went. Where the being went. The conscience. 

Of course he wouldn’t word it that way, but it was easy to understand that it was what he meant when he said : “where do we go when we die ?”. 

After a long time of Tim getting lost in many complex explanations about decomposition (what the Hell Tim ?), he finally stopped as he saw that Thomas was most definitely lost.  

“Where do we go after we die ?” 

“Yes. What happens ? You must know, you know everything !” 

The faith his littlest brother put in him made him feel warm inside but...unfortunately on this subject he had to disappoint him. 

“I..I don’t know about this, actually.” 

Thomas looked crestfallen. Was nothing sacred anymore ?? Death existed, and the one he thought would always have a solution to everything didn’t know something that important !! 

“There’s many theories.” 

“What’s a theories ?”

“One theory, multiple theories. A theory is...an idea of how things might work.” 

“What are the theory ?” 

“Theories, plural.” 

“What are the theories ?” 

“Well. Some people think that you go into some kind of afterlife. It depends the culture, and the religion, and...many other factors. But there’s usually a few places we can end up.” 

“And we’ll see the people who died there ? We’ll see them again ?” 

“Supposedly so.” 

“Is it sure ?”

“No, it’s just a theory.” 

“You said a theory is an idea of how things might work.” 

“An idea that might not be proven.” 

“What’s the point then ?” 

“Theorizing.” 

“I don’t understand...”

Of course he didn’t, he was a smart little boy...But still just five. Tim sat down to his level, and looked at him in the eyes : 

“Well. You have to understand that um...No one knows what happens after death. So we have to make theories, things that might or might not be. You understand ?” 

“No.” 

“Well, since we don’t know, we make things up. But maybe those things are right. Maybe they aren’t.” 

“So the answer is we don't know ?” 

“Yes. But there are theories ?” 

“Ok. So aside from the place we see others again, what are the theories ?” 

“Well (...)” 

Tim was a patient boy. For hours and hours, he tried to explain every single “theory” people might’ve had about what happens after Death. And Thomas listened carefully. 

Finally, Tim was done, and his brother said : 

“So...No one really knows, and there’s a lot of theory...ies. Theories.” 

“Basically.” 

Thomas looked so discouraged. Tim was very well aware that none of what he told him really helped his brother, or reassured him...But ah. Tim was known to not lie. Which was a good thing. And he couldn’t possibly have a free conscience if he had told his brother just one theory of the after life, the nicest one, just to reassure him. 

Of course, he wanted to reassure him. To distract him. But he would do so another way. Lying to him was not it. 

Still, it was so disheartening to see this sweet little boy so crestfallen. 

“Um, Well...I guess some people know.”

Thomas looked up at his brother, hopeful, waiting for him to continue. 

“Like Constantine. But um, he’s sort of crazy. And dad doesn't want him around the house for...reasons you’ll understand when you’ll grow up. And-”

Ah but Thomas wasn’t listening to Tim anymore, and his monologue as to why maybe John Constantine wasn’t such a reliable source.   

“Constantine” huh ? Interesting. Ah. Sometimes, Tim forgot how smart his little brother truly was...for a five years old. And how he took after his father, when it came to memory and attention to details. 

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

This constant worry went on for quite just a few days. A few very eventful days, that were so...exhausting. Thomas was constantly scared for your lives, and would cry if anyone got hurt too much. 

He would follow you around, and be way too stressed for such a little bean. 

Everyone came to hide their injuries from him, tried to distract him from what they were doing when out as the Bats...But it was becoming a real problem. 

How ? How could they make a little five years old understand that he couldn’t forever be afraid of death ? It was impossible. None of you, not even you, had the right words. There were no right words anyway. 

You could tell him whatever you wanted, it’d never make him stop thinking about Death taking one of you with her, taking one of you far away from him. 

“A place he cannot follow you to.” 

How ? How could you help ?!

But the change had to come from within him, you would soon realize. 

About a week after Ace’s death, and a truly painful few days of everyone being lost and unable to help the baby of the family... he suddenly spoke up, at dinner time : 

“Mama, mama, if one day you die, I will bring you back. I promise. Same for daddy, and Dick, and Jason, and Cass, and Tim, and Duke, and Damian, and Alfred. I don’t know if we can bring dogs back, but humans yes ? And worst case scenario, I’ll conjure your spirit so I can say goodbye, and then I’ll know we’ll see each others again !”

“Wh-What ?” 

“Stunned” doesn’t quite cover how you felt at your son’s sudden tirade, at dinner that night. Everyone was here, a rare occasion. Your one dinner a months that was mandatory for all your kids ! To make sure you’d all have moments together. 

And boom. Came this monologue out of nowhere, from your small little five and a half years old son. 

Stunned. Not a strong word enough to describe you, or your other children. 

But Bruce. Oh Bruce. Bruce was frowning. Narrowing his eyes in a way you knew perfectly well...It meant he was angry at someone. 

“Who told you all this, son ?” 

“Mister Constantine.”

A growl. A scary growl. From deep within your husband’s throat. You would NOT want to be John next time he’d see 

“How did you talk to him ?” 

“I used your phone.” 

“I don’t have his number on my...Wait, the bat phone ?!” 

“Yes. The one you call uncle Clark on !”

“What the-...how did you-ugh ?!” 

There were so many questions. So many. 

“I copied what you do, on the phone. And I asked it if it could call the Constantine.” 

“The Constantine”, this better not be a stupid way he called himself in front of his son, Bruce thought. Ah, and curse the fact he kept having kids that were too damn smart for their own good ! 

Kids this days. Growing up with technology. Able to work a batphobe at age 5 and a half !! 

“Hope I helped little man - John Constantine”, said the note that came to the manor a few days later. Which made Bruce fume with rage, but Thomas beam happily. 

Bruce was already planning to go after John, and force him to say what he told his son. But...But...

To be honest. Whatever he said. You didn’t care. You knew, more than anyone else, that “Death” wasn’t as definitive as it sounded at times. And you knew for certain there was something after you died. What ? You couldn’t be sure. But something. Another place. Or maybe reincarnation ? Who knew. 

Deep in your heart though, you knew that no matter what, if you ever were to die...You’d see your family again. You weren’t sure how or where. It was just a certainty in your heart. A gut feeling. 

Yes. You didn’t care what John told your son. If it could help him accept that everyone will die one day. Didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of losing you anymore. Oh no. But at least...At least he knew worrying about it lead nowhere. And to truly enjoy the moments of the present. 

Whatever John said, it helped your son. That’s all that mattered. And as Thomas would grow up, you knew he’d understand things more and more. 

He already knew he was luckier than many people. He had a loving family. They were all there with him for now (minus Ace, whom he missed every day). A lot of people couldn’t say the same thing. 

Death was an odd thing. Especially in the World you lived in. 

It wasn’t as definitive as some would say.

Your family knew that more than anyone else.  

Death was an odd thing, that wasn’t always the ultimate end...

This, one day, Thomas would truly understand. 

The end 

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). Just a quick thing again, my bigger story (fake boyfriend trope with Bruce hehe) is coming soon. But in the mean time, felt compelled to write about this. I hope you enjoyed reading it, and liked it ? Not my best work :/, another quick drabble written very late at night eh. But nonetheless, fun to write ? Hope it’s not a disappointment, it’s just a thing to make ya wait for a more elaborate thing that I took a lot of care writing. Anyway it’s 4 am, time for bed :).

If you did, don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback or/and to reblog :). If you didn’t as well really, it’s always good to know what’s not good so I can improve (just stay civil please). 

PS : Bonus point if you get where I’m trying to arrive at with those last few words about how definitive death is :p. 

[kitty-cat-is-back]

New Neighbor: Sero Edition (Part 2)

Pairing: Sero Hanta x Reader

Word Count: 800

A/N: Well. I totally didn’t expect to write a part 2 for this, but here I am! But this probably isn’t what you guys were expecting/wanting. I wrote the story I wanted to write and you’re essentially just supposed to assume the rest (assume the best)! But I could write a companion piece for Sero’s reaction! So here you go! Sorry if this isn’t what the people wanted, but it’s what I wanted! Thanks to @reinawritesbnha and @somany-fandoms-solittle-time for encouraging me to write another part, even if it is just a drabble! Enjoy!

Here’s Part 1 if you missed it~!

Warning: 18+ SMUT!! Don’t interact with this content if you are under 18, please and thank you!!, Masturbation, Voyeurism? (auditory), PWP

It’s early.

Too early.

Hanta’s eyes cracked open as he awoke from his dreamless sleep. He was able to make out the things in his room, but he could tell that he had awoken at the crack of dawn. He let out a guttural groan as he rolled inward towards his pillows, hoping to catch a couple more hours of sleep.

As he began to drift back off, he was forced back awake by the sound of a weak moan. His eyes snapped open as he shot up, looking around the room in a panic.

“Alpha…” the muffled voice whined out.

Hanta looked back towards the wall where his bed was pushed up against, thoughts of his cute new neighbor flashing across his mind. That was her apartment, right? He shimmied back towards the wall and pressed his ear against the drywall separating their rooms.

“Alpha… Oh God…” you sleepily moaned out.

Sero’s brows shot up as he pressed himself further into the wall as if that would help him to hear more of your sweet voice. Was someone in there with you? No… He didn’t hear any movement nor another voice. Were you pleasuring yourself this early? Maybe… But you sound a bit out of it. You could be having a wet dream?

Regardless of what was happening on the other side of his wall, he was finding that his usual morning half hard-on was starting to strain in his loose sweatpants. He let out a long huff out of his nostrils as he continued to listen to your sweet moans and whimpers. One of his hands that was pressed against the wall was now drifting down to the front of his sweatpants, palming his erection in hope of some relief.

So what if he wanted to get off on the sound of your enticing voice? It was a completely natural reaction when hearing sex-related things. Plus, with the picture of you in his mind, how could he not?

“A-Alpha, please… I need you so bad…”

Fuck. He pushed down his sweats just enough for his cock to spring out, bobbing against his bare chest. He hissed at the cool air, but quickly wrapped his hand around it and started slowly stroking it. Alpha, huh? You must be into that ABO stuff… He’s heard of it, but he can’t say he knows much about it. All he knows is that he likes the way you say it. He can just imagine the word coming out of those pretty lips of yours. He could also imagine other uses for those lips, like on his own, down his chest, around his cock. Those thoughts alone made him produce a deep, gritty groan as he picked up the pace.

“Oh god yes… Yes, right there Hanta…”

Hanta’s eyes bulged out of his head as he stopped his hand altogether. Did you… just say his name? Were you thinking about him? He gulped thickly, a shaky pant escaping his lips after, thinking about the implications. You were thinking about him while in the midst of a sexual fantasy.

His dick just went from hard to excruciatingly painful.

He restarted his strokes but immediately jumped into a breakneck pace. He panted out your name as he pleasured himself, all while drinking in your sweet siren call. He closed his eyes as he fully pictured you beneath him, ramming his cock into your dripping cunt. He could picture your face twisted in pleasure as you continued to beg for more, just like you were right now. His own hips started thrusting up into his hand, losing himself in his own fantasies.

He was so close. He could feel it.

“Yes... Hanta... Alpha...”

Just a little bit more.

“Yes, I’m so close… I’m… I’m…”

Oh fuck...

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Hanta’s eyes snapped open as he stared down at his cock, spurting out ropes of sticky cum onto his headboard. He rode out the rest of his climax, finding himself panting heavily. Sweat rolled down his neck and onto his bare chest as he processed what just happened. Once he figured he was done, he fell back against his bed and let out a frustrated groan, aggressively running his hand through his messy black locks.

He laid there for a moment as he heard your shower turn on, weighing out the pros and cons.

He wanted to fuck his neighbor.

Well… No time like the present.

He shot up out of bed, cleaned himself up, and beelined to his computer. A little research on this whole ABO thing wouldn’t hurt his chances.

Also… Maybe he should go for a run today...

[dammit-stark]

Ooo ooo, an au i loooove is flower shop au! Where one character runs a flower shop and flowers with symbolic meanings are used- ugh the fluff/flirting potential 🥰🥰

fun fact: i’ve somehow managed to never write a flower shop au before this??? which is absurd bc it’s a friken classic so this was super fun I really enjoyed this hehe

SEND ME YOUR FAV AU AND ILL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE :)

...

He knows that it’s Pepper’s birthday. He knows because she told him a week ago, pointedly inserted it into all of his various calendars, threatened him with violence and selfish resignation as his assistance. He knows it’s her birthday.

Still, the morning of when JARVIS alerts him that he forgot to get Pepper a present, it catches Tony by surprise.

“Fuck,” He says, rubbing his face as he sits up in bed, “JARVIS, what am I supposed to get her?”

“I’m afraid you did not program me to be able to advise on gift giving, sir,” JARVIS replies, and Tony, his infernal creator, knows it’s said with joyful malice, “But if I may suggest something. Miss Potts has expressed an appreciation for fresh flowers in the past. Sir.”

Tony sighs, pulling on the nearest pair of pants, “You’re a life saver, JARVIS. Send Pep a happy birthday message, will you?”

“Very well, sir.”

“I’m gonna get some flowers. Don’t tell her I forgot.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony grabs his keys and opens the front door, stopping with one foot over the invisible jamb, “And stop mouthing me, JARVIS. You might sound polite, but I programmed you, I know when you’re sassing me.”

JARVIS is tellingly silent. Tony closes the door behind himself.

So, flowers. Flowers. How hard can flowers be? He passes four flower stands on his way to the burger joint he likes a block from the tower, and he’s positive there’s a quaint little shop the next block over. Surely, he can figure this out.

Except when Tony gets to the shop, a pink and blue awning hanging over him like an insufferably ironic storm cloud, he’s at a complete loss.

Would she like pink or blue? Roses or carnations? Tulips? Lilies? Daisies? Something yellow? Maybe something orange like her hair? Would she be offended by that? Probably. Isn’t there a green thing she likes? Surely, she’s mentioned it before. It’s gotta be somewhere in the recesses of Tony’s unfocused brain, somewhere.

He’s standing at a loss in front of a vibrant display that looks distinctly like the photoshop color picker exploded.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Sorry?”

“I get enough of that from my robots, I don’t need it from- attractive flower salesman. Hi. Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.”

Aforementioned flower salesman blinks, and Tony notes with satisfaction the dee blush high on his cheeks.

“Uh, can I help you find something?”

In a moment, Tony’s moving again, hands fluttering, mind whirring, mouth working without the rest of his body’s knowledge, about as per usual. He picks up a colorful bouquet of various wild flowers, smells it, and puts back with a scrunched nose, “I need a birthday present for my assistant. Something that says ‘Thank you for being in my life. No I didn’t forget your birthday, see. Love you’.”

The salesman looks at his shoes when he talks, nodding, “Well we have a variety of flowers that can express love or lust. A mauve carnation, for example. Or coriander is a lovely way to express the same sentiment. Red roses obviously mean love, and calla lilies symbolize beauty. We can assemble you a beautiful bouquet with these if you would like.”

Tony scrunches his nose like he smelled another disagreeing flower fragrance, “I don’t think you understand. I was thinking of something a little more.. platonic. More gratitude and friendship than sex and love.”

Steve’s head shoots up from the spot on the floor that he had been all but staring a hole through, and his eyes are wide, “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t really bat for the same teams, if you know what I’m saying.”

The blush returns to Steve’s face, but there’s an excited, hopeful glint in his eyes. And when he speaks, the words come out faster, rushers “Daffodils and peach roses then,” He says with confidence, “Appreciation. Yellow roses, too, maybe. For friendship.

Oh! And we can’t forget about alstroemeria! Better known as Lily of the Incas, they’re beautiful flowers that are most popular in bouquets for platonic love and friendship. What do you think?”

Tony smiles, and Steve’s breath audibly hitches, it’d almost be funny if Tony wasn’t so wooed by all the flower talk, “That sounds great. I’ll take all of it in one big, gorgeous bouquet.”

Steve moves behind the counter, “It’s gonna be pricy.”

Tony’s responding grin is knowing and cool, and his eyes squint minutely at the corners with this joyfulness, “Don��t worry. I can cover it. How fast can you get it done? Can we make this happen today? I know it’s last minute, but this’ll really save my butt.”

Steve reads down the long list of invoice orders ahead of him. He looks up to tell Tony that it’s impossible and- “Give me two hours.”

Apparently his heart (and eyes, and dick) put Tony at the top of the list. Tony has no idea, just smiles cheerfully, and nods, pulling out a shiny black credit card from his back pocket. Steve had always thought the black card thing had been a myth, an urban legend made up by money-grubbing banks and capitalists, but when he slides the card through the machine, it doesn’t bounce.

“Alright,” Steve says as he hands the card back, “I’ll see you in two hours.”

When Tony opens the front door to leave, he wiggles his fingers in a funny goodbye and disappears back into the New York streets. He’s starting to be glad he forgot Pepper’s birthday in the first place, even if she potentially hates him forever for dropping the ball.

Two hours later, Tony returns, and the bell on the green painted door to the quaint shop rings as he enters. Steve is nowhere to be found. A grumpy-looking, long-haired curmudgeon mans the counter instead.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order for Stark,” Tony says with a charming smile, one hand coming down to slap the blue painted countertop.

The florist, his name tag reading BUCKY :) in big, ironic letters turns around still frowning, and roots around for Tony’s bouquet. When he turns around, he’s holding two bouquets. He sets them both on the counter. Tony stares at them.

“I’m sorry,” He says, pointing at the redder one of the two, “I only ordered one.”

Bucky points with malice at the unfamiliar bouquet, “Yeah, I know. Apparently this one’s on the house. It’s from Stevie.”

“Stevie, huh?” Tony quips, the corners of his lips turning into a smile.

“Steve, yeah.”

“Tell Steve to call me then. So I can thank him.”

Bucky shakes his head, looking boring and maybe even irritated. He points at the on-the-house arrangement, “His number’s on the card.”

Tony smiles and scoops both bouquets up into his arms.

“You guys really have great service,” Tony jeers, and Bucky continues looking unamused and uninterested, “Thanks, Bucky!”

When Tony gives Pepper her gift, she’s duly impressed by the thoughtful layers to it. Tony proudly tells her what all the flowers mean.

She watches him dubiously from over top the crest of flowers, “So who told you what to get me? Who do I really have to thank?”

Tony shakes his head and refuses to think about JARVIS or Steve (just in case Pepper secretly has mind reading abilities, you can never be too safe), “I did it all by myself, Pep. Come on, give me some credit.”

She still looks suspicious, her nose in a lily, but eventually she nods, “Yeah, sure. You pass. Even if you didn’t think it up yourself, there was obviously some forethought since you can’t just go out and get a custom bouquet the same day. Good job, Tony. You’ve set the bar for next year.”

Tony groans.

It’s quarter to eleven, and Tony’s been staring his own bouquet, carefully placed in a genuine crystal vase on his kitchen counter, for almost an hour now. He finally gets up the nerve to google the symbolism surrounding the flowers and-

They’re all variations on lust or pining. A couple that have alternate meanings of love that Tony tries not to dwell on. He carefully punches the number into his phone and presses dial.

“H-hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Who is this?”

“Tony Stark from the flower shop this morning.”

It sounds like something is dropped, something fumbled, and Steve’s a little breathless when he finally speaks, “Did you, uh, get my flowers?”

Tony’s smiling even though he knows Steve can’t see him, and it’s all kinda ridiculous, but he sees that beautiful bouquet in his kitchen and sees red roses behind his eyes, mauve carnations dancing in his vision, “Yeah,” He says, smiling like an absolute idiot, “I should give you some daffodils in exchange, I appreciated them so much.”

Steve snorts, and Tony imagines him smiling too.

“What? Is that not how it works?”

“I’m glad you appreciated them, Tony Stark. I meant it.”

Tony feels a feeling in his stomach, something like purple lilacs rising through him.

“Wanna go for dinner sometime?”

He imagines Steve’s smile looking like a field of daisies.

“I’d love to.”

[recurring-polynya]

Sometimes, when I don’t feel like writing the things I am supposed to be working on, I have a document worth of drabbley post-TYBWA stuff where I’m working out how Renji and Rukia actually manage to get family-approval for their relationship and subsequently get married. It’s pretty rough and I never finish any of the parts.

In any case, @sillier-things mentioned recently that she liked stories about making babies and I told her I would write her a drabble, so I wrote a little story about family planning, because I am a thirty-eight year old, deeply boring woman, and because I need, in my heart, for Ichika to have been extremely planned.

So, I wrote this, mostly for me, and I hope you like it, too. If you don’t, I’ll just write you another one. Takes place in the late fall, between the TYBWA and their wedding, they are betrothed. (Renji likes to pronounce “betrothed” with three syllables and in his Byakuya voice). PG for some raunchy sex talk.

Some background from the other parts that maybe I’ll finish someday?:

- Renji beat Byakuya in a fight and then turned in his paperwork for dating Rukia

- Byakuya was will to let Renji marry into the Kuchiki family, but Renji realized that Rukia would be happier living a more independent life, and asked Byakuya if she could marry out of the family instead. Byakuya refused to let her marry a nobody, so he did what anyone would: named Renji his vassal.

- Renji somehow managed to buy a house that his 4th Seat won in a poker game off some other noble idiot (I wrote this part once when I got really nostalgic about their house from Between Tides, I told you I was a deeply boring person)

- Byakuya is not as recovered from his fight with As Nodt as everyone thinks he is. (Renji and Rukia know, tho)

Rukia sat on a tall bar stool, while Renji stuffed gyoza on the other side of the kitchen island. She was going down a long checklist. “Last one!”

“Surely not!”

“Surely yes! Do you want to use the good silver chopsticks?”

“The ones that are slippery as hell? No.”

“You’re getting pretty good at them,” Rukia said, propping one elbow up on the counter.

“I’m not worried about me. We get to invite our friends to this thing, too, right? In addition to all 900 of your relatives?”

“They’re your relatives now, too, Mr. Branch Family Head,” Rukia reminded him. “Whether you marry me or not. And yes, we can invite our friends to this thing, or as I like to call it, our wedding.”

Renji plopped another dumpling onto his tray. “Well, I don’t want Ikkaku to shove a metal chopstick in my ear on my wedding day, so can we please use normal ones? Is that allowed?”

“We can use the second most fancy chopsticks, I still wouldn’t categorize them as ‘normal.’”

“So, is that it? You’re really out of questions?”

“I’m out of wedding-related questions. You still haven’t told me why you’re making enough gyoza to feed your entire squad.”

“Because it’s easier to make them in big batches, they freeze really well.”

Rukia waved an arm at the room behind her, which was mostly full of boxes. “You don’t have anything better to do? You moved in three weeks ago, have you unpacked anything?”

“I unpacked the kitchen stuff, obviously. And you’re here. I know how you like it when I wear this apron.”

Rukia folded her arms on the counter and rested her chin on them. “Renji. You’re still sleeping in the barracks, aren’t you?”

Renji stared deeply into his bowl of pork and cabbage. It was much more forgiving than his fiancee. “This house is really big. It gets lonely at night. I still don’t see why I had to move in first.”

“How am I supposed to marry into your family if your family doesn’t even have a house? What sort of poor excuse for a noble are you anyway?” Rukia teased him.

“The worst,” Renji agreed cheerfully.

Rukia’s smile wavered a little. “It’s not too big, is it? For just two people?”

“It’ll be perfect when you’re here, I promise. If it’s still too big, we’ll get that bunny you’ve always wanted." 

Renji expected some shouting on the topic of bunnies, but instead, Rukia was quiet. He looked up from his dumplings to see her chewing on her bottom lip pensively. "Renji? Can I ask you something?” she asked as his eyes met hers.

“Nope!” he replied. “You said you were done! You blew your wad on centerpieces and great-uncles!”

She gave him a withering stare.

“Of course you can ask me anything, dummy,” he chided her.

Rukia sat up and leaned back as far as she could without falling off her stool. “Do you wanna have kids?”

Renji blinked. “Well…” he said slowly. 

Rukia waited.

“To be honest, I’ve spent a lot of time on my figure. I’m worried you wouldn’t find me attractive anymore if I couldn’t lose the weight afterwards–”

“Oh, shut up, you are the worst!” Rukia looked around for something she could throw at him, but the best thing she could come up with was a dish towel, which he ducked easily. “I’m being serious, here!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he chuckled, not sounding very sorry. “Do you want to have kids?”

“No! No dodging! I asked you first!”

They stared at each other, eyes narrowed.

“What if we said it at the same time?” Renji suggested.

“That seems like a terrible idea, but it is fair. Let’s do it.”

“Okay, on three, then. One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

“Yes,” said Rukia at the same time as Renji said, “I do, but I feel it puts an unfair burden on you and I know being a good leader to your squad is something you take very seriously and I won’t feel like anything is missing from– did you just say 'yes’?”

“I knew you hadn’t thought this through properly,” Rukia muttered.

He threw a piece of wadded up dough at her head. She caught it.

“You moron!” she scolded. “You’re the head of a family, now! What kind of a dick do you think I am, that I would agree to marry you with no intention of bearing you an heir!”

Renji’s face split into a lopsided grin. “First of all, if you say the phrase 'bearing me an heir’ again, I am going to be so overcome with passion that I will be unable to wait until our marital vows, and I’ll have my way with you right here and now.”

Rukia rolled her eyes. As if he gave half a shit about wedding vows. As if they hadn’t done it already once today within five minutes of her walking in the door.

“Secondly, who the hell else would I marry? I’ve already incorporated Sode no Shirayuki’s tsuba into my family crest.” He shoved up his sleeve for emphasis, as if she had somehow forgotten what it looked like, the segmented oval of her released sword’s guard, bisected by a lightning bolt. She couldn’t believe he’d gotten it tattooed on the inside of his forearm on the same day Byakuya declared him a one-man vassal family. She also couldn’t believe he wouldn’t let her get a matching one until they were actually married. Apparently Seireitei tattoo artists were very serious about not doing clan symbols without permission. At least he was finally willing to wear long sleeves again, now that it was November. 

“That’s your problem,” she informed him.

“My favorite problem,” he announced. “The branch family thing is nice, I guess, but mostly I just care about being married to you. You don’t need to feel obligated to–”

Rukia threw the dough ball back at his head. It hit him square in the forehead and bounced off. “Look, you lunkhead. I don’t know if I would be any good at being a mom, but it’s just stupidly obvious how good a dad you would be, not to mention how hot you would be in one of those baby sling things. Don’t you dare try to deny it, as you stand there in your dumb apron, making your freezer meals.”

His cheeks had gone a little pink. “All I was gonna say is that I think you would be a pretty awesome mom. You can skateboard. I can’t skateboard. You… you really want to?”

Rukia shrugged, a little defensively. “We had a pretty shitty childhood, y’know, but we all took care of each other. We did okay. We were happy. I feel like… like it would be nice to actually take care of someone. Give them food and hugs and tell them stories and all the stuff no one ever did for us. That I would like to do that with you.”

Renji was regarding her strangely.

“What?” Rukia huffed.

“I just really like you, y’know,” he said softly. 

Now Rukia was the one with pink cheeks. “Also, I just feel like I could make a really good baby,” she proclaimed. “Especially with your help. Imagine a kid with my brains and aesthetic and your height and abs.”

“You do realize we’re just as likely to get an angry shorty with my hair and your stubbornness,” Renji informed her dryly. “Not to mention a foul mouth because there’s no way we’re gonna remember to watch our language around them.”

“Sounds perfect to me, either way,” Rukia replied.

Renji grinned and continued on with his dumpling stuffing. “All right, Kuchiki. I’m game if you are.”

“I am,” Rukia confirmed. “When do you want to start?”

Renji guffawed. “You do not mess around, do you? My hands are covered in ground meat at the moment–”

“Be serious! Besides, I already cast the all-purpose protection kidou on you today and I’m very good at it, so it’ll probably last a full eight hours.”

Renji shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You be serious. Wouldn’t you rather wait until you get a new captain in place?”

Rukia stuck her lower lip out. “Uhhh, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

Renji looked up, regarding her under lowered eyelids. “Yesssss?”

Rukia made a squirmy face. “The Head-Captain talked to me the other day. He, uh, said that with all the losses overall, and the fact that there aren’t really any good candidates, he wants to keep the 13th small for the next couple of years and let me, um, growintothecaptaincy.”

Renji raised one eyebrow at her, looking very proud, but not saying anything.

“He wants to do the same with the Seventh,” Rukia quickly excused. “And he’s going to talk to Captain Hitsugaya about mentoring me, both as a captain and with my bankai. That’s the real issue, y'know, that with a bankai like that, I should really know what I’m doing before I have any business captaining a squad.”

“I hear you,” Renji agreed.

Rukia narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that what you told Captain Kyouraku when he asked you to take the Seventh? He said you turned him down.”

Renji winced.

“Because you told me,” Rukia went on loftily, “ that Souou Zabimaru was much easier to maneuver than Hihiou Zabimaru.”

“Something about how I still had a lot to learn from Captain Kuchiki,” Renji grumbled. “Besides, the Seventh is Iba’s squad. He’s not that far from bankai. I even told Kyouraku I’d help him train for it.”

“It might be awhile before you get another chance,” Rukia pointed out softly.

Renji was stuffing dumplings very aggressively now. “Your brother needs me right now, you know that, even if I wasn’t gettin’ married to the most demanding woman in Soul Society next month. I don’t care that much about making captain. I care a lot about my family.”

Byakuya’s battle with As Nodt had very nearly killed him. At the time, Captain Unohana had predicted that, even if he lived, he would never hold a sword again. He had proved her wrong, of course, trained in the Royal Realm, taken up his haori again. But he wasn’t the same. HIs power was greatly reduced, his endurance as well. He could no longer reach the advanced stages of his bankai. 

Captain Kuchiki was one of the most powerful captains in the Gotei. It would take a strong opponent indeed to press him hard enough to even notice these changes. But Byakuya knew. And his lieutenant, who had finally bested him in battle, knew, too.

Byakuya’s previous strength might still return. It might simply take time. Having an eager young vice-captain– powerful enough to pass the captain’s exam, but lacking the experience, made a convenient cover for delegating combat and other physically taxing duties. Especially now that Byakuya had acknowledged Renji as a protege of sorts, head of a Kuchiki branch family, and promised Byakuya’s own beloved sister, it appeared outwardly that it was the captain supporting his vice-captain, rather than the other way around.

Rukia smiled fondly at the vice-captain in question. “I like you a lot, too, y'know.” She paused thoughtfully. “I don’t have to be a captain, either. It is a lot. I can tell Kyouraku to find someone else.”

“Tch!” Renji huffed. “Someone’s gotta bring glory to our family name. Makes more sense for it to be you, I’m the better cook.” He finished up the last of his dumplings, and put the bowl in the sink. “Although I suppose that puts a wrinkle in that thing we were talking about a minute ago.”

Rukia sniffed. “I don’t see why. We’ll make one right away, I’ll tell the Head Captain I need a year, and then I’ll get down to business after that. You can use the baby as an excuse to stave off any further attempts at promotion. And if Brother keeps trying to overdo it, we can plunk the baby in his lap.”

“Brilliant plan,” Renji assessed. “Zero foreseeable flaws. How many of these you think you can eat with dinner? I’m gonna freeze the rest.”

“One thousand,” Rukia proclaimed.

Renji rolled his eyes as he slid a tray into the freezer. “I have no idea how I am going to keep you fed, assuming I actually manage to knock you up.”

“I believe in you,” Rukia assured him. “On both counts.” She watched him as he continued to clean up. “You’re really on board with all this? You were probably looking forward to a few years of me bending you over the kitchen table as soon as we got home, not late night feedings and dirty diapers, huh?”

Renji finished drying his hands, and he reached over the counter to tip Rukia’s chin up with one finger. “Rukia. As much as I love having rauchy sex in inappropriate places with you– and you know that I do– the thing I’ve been waiting forty-six years for is to be a family, whether that means just the two of us, or us plus however many babies you demand I put in you. I’ve had enough waiting for one afterlife, to be honest.”

“How did you come up with 46?” Rukia frowned. “Forty-six years ago, we were still back in–”

“Don’t do the math,” he implored.

“Okay,” she agreed, smiling at him.

“We’re not gonna start trying before the wedding, though, right?” Renji asked, pulling off his apron. “I’m pretty bad at math, but your brother’s not.”

“I suppose not,” Rukia agreed.

“Then we should squeeze in as much lazy daytime sex as possible while we still can!”

Rukia shrieked gleefully as he ducked around the kitchen island and pulled her off her barstool. 

This was going to work out just fine.

[idabbleincrazy]

Which Fic - Tag Game

I was tagged by @idreamofplaid (Please make your own post)

Which of your fics…

…did you think would get a bigger reaction/audience than it got?

There’s a lot of my fics that I had hoped would get more notice than they do, but Ask and Ye Shall Receive is one that I really expected more attention on. Being my first real Destiel fic, I was already nervous about posting it, but it got so little notice compared to the number of people who follow the ship. It really speaks to how important reblogging is that this fic still has under 100 notes for each chapter. I was also surprised that Voulez-Vous didn’t get more traction, seeing how so many readers love both the clothes sharing trope, and being part of a Winchester sandwich. 

…got a better reaction than you expected?

Prodigal Son was one that did quite well that I was expecting only a few people to read, given the nature of the smut, but hey, ya never know right? Another one I was glad to see get more love than I’d hoped for was Best Shark Week Ever; given that it’s a fic about the reader being on their period, I wasn’t sure how it would be received. But it���s one that I’ve received some really loving comments on and I’m glad I posted it. There’s not enough fics that include the topic, and it’s something that seems to be perceived as taboo when it shouldn’t.

…is your funniest?

I don’t really do full-on crack fics, more crack-ish, but I think my funniest would probably be Unexpected Discoveries, where Sam has been reading A/B/O fanfic and ends up roleplaying with the reader. Happy Trails to You is another one that has some funny moments in it, given the nature of the fic was based around Gabriel’s whipped cream happy trail, and a silly line about America’s Ass.

…is your darkest or angstiest?

Hmm...there’s Pierced, a fic that wasn’t supposed to be angsty but ended up very much so. Do not go into it expecting a happy ending. The Wrong Something, To Be Loved, Whatever the Cost, Say Something, and Those We Left Behind are all angsty coda drabbles. Depends on your definition of Dark fic, but Stay and Flightless Bird are two dark!Chuck fics I have, centered on the way he’s been since the end of s14. The King and His Demon is a dark!Sabriel fic, my previously mentioned Prodigal Son is another Demon Blood Sam fic, and Saving Grace is a dark installment in my Christa-verse series. 

…is your absolute favorite?

How do I pick just one? I guess Flightless Bird, Best Shark Week Ever, and Situation will always hold extra love in my heart.

…is your least favorite?

I guess The Promise. It was my first posted fic and I probably could have done a lot better with it.

…was the easiest to write?

Best Shark Week Ever. I got the first two chapters written in a day. Now if I could just get back to it...

…was hardest to write?

Angel of the Morning. I stepped away from it forever before finally pushing thru and finished it. 

…has your favorite lines/exchange/paragraph? (share it!)

From Happy Trails to You ~ “Who needs America’s Ass, when you’ve got Heaven’s Dick in your bed?”

This little exchange from Voulez-Vous ~ "You haven't been playing fair, baby girl. Waltzing around in our clothes like this; that coupled with that teasing jibe you made after that 'wolf hunt, how were we supposed to resist? We know how to share when necessary, so we came to an agreement."

"That is, if you want us. Both of us."

You pulled back enough to look at them both, your head swimming with the knowledge that they wanted you, that your once impossible dream was this close to becoming reality. Sam smiled down at you, a wolfish gleam in his eyes.

"So, I guess the only question left is, voulez-vous?"

You swallowed back the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape your lips at his blatant reference and leaned back across Dean's lap, letting the arm of the couch support your back as you responded.

"A-ha."

From Jacksonville, FL (A KoC fic) ~ “Hmm, never figured you for a bossy bottom.”

“There’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me, Richie, but I’ll make sure you have plenty of fun finding them out.”

…have you reread the most?

The Hunting Cabin and A Fish May Love A Bird are two I love to go back to for some happy feels.

…would you recommend to someone reading your work for the first time?

Honestly, it depends on the person. I’ve got so many different levels of kink throughout my smut fics, and a lot of different pairings, I wouldn’t even know where to start. What do you guys think?

…are you most proud of?

Best Shark Week Ever. I’m proud that I was able to incorporate hot, loving smut into all the ‘Sam-is-the-best-boyfriend-ever’ fluff and pass on some info about periods that isn’t discussed enough. I’m glad that people have told me how realistic it seemed, and how they learned new things. 

Tagging: @archangelgabriellives @thewhiterabbit42 @shaylybaby2032 @mir567 @warlockwriter @falcatrecon @masterpieceofturkeycleverness and whoever else wants to do it, not sure who all’s been tagged already...

[bbrandy2002]

Two Men and a Baby Pt 9B-The Ending.

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Part 9a was posted earlier this morning if you haven't read it yet.

Thank you everyone who took the time to read this. Your comments have been wonderful to read and kept me going when I got a case of writers block. I have other stories I plan to write so I hope you'll stick around for a while.

I am posting fun facts at the end of this story, if you'd like to read those too. - Brandy

@gardeningourmet @emceesynonymroll @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @crookedslimecreatorpasta @moonlightgem7 @katedrakeohd @romanticatheart-posts @carabeth

The Real Last Final One 9B

Liam just finished his account of the predicament he found himself in earlier. Riley felt badly for her husband and the anger she felt over his "zip it" comment seemed a little more justified.

Drake stood from his chair and apologized for what he had done. He, too, had had a rough day, however, no one deserved to be clawed in the face, hauled off to a psych ward, beaten and nearly strip searched, especially the King.

"I know what will make you feel better, My King." Riley whispered.

"I can't imagine what." Liam pouted.

"Well....we are in a hospital, I don't think we've ever done it in one before." Riley looked at him like she wanted to devour him right there.

Liam raised an eyebrow, "I do like doing it in public places."

Riley grabbed his hand and led him off in search of an empty room.

"Watch your zipper Liam" Maxwell yelled.

Olivia huffed "Well, there goes my ride. Hey Walker, why don't you give me a lift back to the palace."

Drake didn't want to, the last thing he wanted was to end his night with Olivia, but, perhaps she'd be too tired to annoy him for the hour drive back.

2 hours later....

Bertrand had to have surgery to free him of the zipper. After a healthy dose of drugs and a little reconstructive surgery, he and his dick should make a full recovery. He will need to wear a diaper for a while, but, that's a small price to pay for ones manhood.

Savannah finally reunited with her son. She knew the whole time that Bartie could drink from a bottle, but, she had a secret breast fetish and seeing Bertrand with it on, drove her wild.

The boar was finally caught. It caused significant damage to the Beaumont Estate, but, in reality, it was nothing they hadn't seen following a Beaumont Bash. It was placed in the Valtoria menagerie, due to Zeke being unable to take him back.

Zeke and Penelope were arrested that night for operating an illegal animal ring. Truth is, Zeke was raking in profits off the illegal purchasing and trading of several wild animals. Penelope was the ringleader. She had made off like a bandit having acquired 100's of boxes of dog treats for her poodles.

Liam and Riley found an empty room and did what Liam and Riley always do when they're alone. When they finally finished, Riley noticed a white flash as she was dressing, but, it was probably nothing.

Maxwell and Drake finally sat down together and pondered their day. They were two men, who certainly had one hellish day, but, they both were able to stand tall knowing they made it through...well, Maxwell had the crutches.

Maxwell was not charged for his part in the disaster. Being a Beaumont has its perks, but, when you're able to forge letters from the King pardoning you, it's even better. He would hitch a ride home in a news van and sleep outside with his peacocks that night.

Liam was cornered in the hospital by the press as he tried to leave. He had to explain why hospital security caught him running out of a vandalized bathroom full of shit, that was now playing on loop from every news station. He also had to explain why he delivered a baby, was beaten, placed in a mental health ward and beaten again. Riley, however, announced she would throw a Royal Ball and go on a Royal Tour, in hopes of answering their questions and calming the masses. Liam, also decided to start wearing condoms again; he wasn't sure he could handle another delivery right now.

"You ready Liv", Drake shook a sleeping Olivia from her chair in the waiting room.

She gathered her things and followed Drake out to the parking lot. The ride to the Palace was fairly quiet, both too exhausted to say anything.

They walked up the grand stair case and Drake couldn't help but notice her ass swaying in her skirt. She annoyed the hell out of him, always had, but, damn if she wasn't sexy.

Once they reached the top, she looked at him like she hadn't before.

"Well Walker, for what it's worth, this day had been something I never expected. I've laughed more today that I have in a long time and its all thanks to you and Maxwell."

Drake slightly huffed," glad we could entertain you Duchess."

"Well, I'm going to bed, I can't keep my eyes open any longer", she smiled at him, winked and made her way to her guest room.

"Night Liv", he would say as he watched her walk away.

Drake went to Liam's study; he was tired, but, hadn't had a stiff drink all day. He sat on the couch, slumped down and drank his long awaited whiskey. One glass after another, until he started to feel much more relaxed and comfortable.

He stood up from the couch and that's when she walked in.

"I thought I heard someone in here" she said.

She walked over to the bar cart and poured her own drink.

She was beautiful in her white, silky robe that accentuated her breasts.

"Didn't mean to disturb you your highness."

"Drake, you can never disturb me" she said while taking a drink and lifting her bare leg to rest on the coffee table.

"Mrs.Rys, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Would that be so bad?" she asked while undoing her robe.

Drake pulled at his collar and licked his lips. He looked at Liam's desk and nodded. She smiled at him and stood in front of the desk. He told her to bend over and he couldn't help but stare at her round ass. He felt kind of guilty about what he was getting ready to do, but, alcohol and his throbbing dick took over. "What the hell" he whispered and went for it.

The next morning

He looked at her and uttered, "I'm sorry".

She replied with a soft smile, "I'm not".

Drake closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "but, what about Liam?"

"Drake, my husband never took the time to touch me like you did last night; trust me, I'm not worried about Liam finding out."

"Yeah, last night sure was crazy."

After doing it twice on Liam's desk, they moved back to his room for the night. She got up and put her clothes on. After she left, Drake picked up his phone to text Maxwell.

....Beaumont, you were right! She does have an apple pie tattoo on her ass.

Fun facts.....

1. This was never supposed to be more than one chapter. I had the idea, thought it would be cute to write a drabble of Bertrand breastfeeding with that fathers breastfeeder seen on Meet the Fockers.

2. After writing chapter 1, I wanted to explore the cliff hanger at the end....would Drake wear the breastfeeder. I had to go ahead and do another to ensure he did.

3.it wasn't until part 4 when my little story started to get noticed by others. I never expected anyone else to read it. I personally thought it was too bizaar, but, continued out of pure enjoyment. You all made it worth it and I loved every minute of writing this.

4. Chapter 7 was my personal favorite. I have to thank @emceesynonymroll for inspiring Maxwell's dialogue. It also was the quickest chapter I wrote.

5. I adore Drake and his character in TRR/TRH, but, as a Liam stan, I could never bring myself to have Riley in his bed at the end. However, I'm not opposed to exploring that for a future post.

6. I wanted to continue this series, but, there is only so much you can write about in a one day timeline. Also, I think everyone suffered enough in the story. I decided it was time to call it quits.

7. There will be new adventures ahead for the gang....I have big plans for them 😂

8.If you have any requests or suggestions, let me know. I'm interested in new ideas. I'm also not opposed to constructive criticism; message me and let me know where I can improve.

As always, thanks for reading!

[jlf23tumble]

Hi jen! I know usually anons have specific requests but could you rec me a couple of fics ? Just something you think it's really great! I'm not feeling too well and i need to get out of my head for a while. (Thank you in advance!)

oOh, mannnn, that sucks, but I feel ya!! This is mildly tricky but also incredibly easy: you don’t necessarily need or want anything super angsty or kinky because you don’t feel great, and canon’s probably a no go (which is a shame, I’d be rec’ing that pube fic HARD bleepin’ CORE), so you need some good AU material that’ll err on the side of distraction, methinks. Because I’ll bet that you’ve read most of these, I’m gonna give you a few more than two, and if you HAVE read ‘em all anyway, come back over and tell me a little bit more about some parameters, and I’ll do another pass. These are just off the top of my head, but I can search with the best of ‘em, goddammit, even my own spotty bookmarking. Under the wiggly line, in no particular order.

Tuxedo Dress-Up, by Blake/ @newleafover, 11k, E. Louis is an aspiring song writer by day, a make up artist for drag queens by night, and masquerading as a full time real estate agent for his third most famous (and first most handsome) client Harry Styles.Or, five times they fail to fuck in a closet, and one time they get it right. (I will not rest until everyone has read this one!!!! I can rec it for pretty much every single scenario, and I barely restrain myself, I’m telling you)

Sing You Butterflies, by objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain, 22k, E. Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap. (I’m putting two from Phoenix on here, but rest assured I’d rec all of hers, too, this is just an adorable fantastical story that completely immerses you in another world that’s still rooted in this one? talent, I tell ya...and I HIGHLY recommend all of P’s fic, she’s writing drabbles in so many universes if you want to explore)

Take Me Under the Blue, by objectlesson, 19k, E. Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction.He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.It’s sort of a long story. (when I heard about this one before editing, I was scurred...but it’s so fucking GOOD, I’d read so many more installments, and I say this as someone who hates fish dick stories, p.s., there’s no fish dick)

just call me inspiration, by @hereforlou, 51k, E. The truth is Louis knows he’s going to hell, if there is such a thing, but it isn’t because he writes erotic fiction for a living. If anything, it’s because his muse, the reason he’s inspired to write about people shagging in increasingly creative ways everyday, is the sweetest, loveliest, most genuine (and completely oblivious) future children-book illustrator in the world. Or, the one where Louis is a writer, Harry is an art student, and they inspire each other in very different ways. (Just me as Liam, that’s all I’ll say)

Tied Down, by @ham-palpert, 48k, E. The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. The investigation yields an unexpected yet satisfactory outcome for Liam and Niall. For Harry and Louis, however, things are far more complicated. (A twisty mystery, and all is NOT as it seems, so read the tags and push through chapter 1; it’s more of a tense drama, if you want to go down that path)

Alien Roadtrip!, by @helloamhere, 16k words, E. For the first time in his life, Louis doesn’t know where he’s going. Harry doesn’t mind. Or roadtrip with desert feelings, too much snack food, and empty motels. Harry is definitely absolutely not an alien. That would be ridiculous. (great dialogue and miles of smiles/laffs in this one, plus you can pretend it’s related to that area 51 nonsense if you really want to)

I’m reading a couple of WIPs that might pull you in, too:

Harry Styles Cooks..., by @sunsetmog, 52k, E. In which Louis Tomlinson can’t cook, there’s a very special shower curtain, and Harry Styles used to be a baker.Or: Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them. (this one is updating fairly slowly, but that’s okay, it’s literally Christmas every time I get that nota, AGGRESSIVE SIGHING OVER HOW MUCH I GRIN LIKE A LOON WHEN I READ EACH INSTALLMENT)

Cards Are Dealt, by @loutmlnsn, 26k, E. Louis likes his life; he likes his job, he likes his house, he likes his town and he loves his cat. It’s not exciting, per say, but it’s comfortable, predictable and quiet. It’s normal. It’s what Louis has always wanted out of life. What Louis never wanted out of life was an A-list actor for a neighbour, who at first glance appears to possess all the values that Louis detests in a human being. An AU in which Louis is a nurse, Harry is an actor, and first impressions matter just as much as everyone keeps saying. (I’m actually reading a few wips, but I tend to notice when they update...I don’t bookmark them until they’re done, though, and this last one just updated yesterday, so check it out! Harry Styles Cooks is my fave wip of all time, I will never forget I’m following it, lmao)

[batsinwhitechapel]

A little drabble

Set after chapter 27

A little fantasy I've been obsessing about for the past month or so, so much that I had to write it down.

Be warned, as I rarely write and English is not my native language, some sentences and word choices are bound to be a little awkward (or downright incorrect). And the rules for the use of punctuation signs differ a lot between English and French, so I probably got it wrong somewhere too. And I can't get my software's spell check to work in English, so there are probably typos in there as well.

Also, the story itself is a bit corny and OOC. Actually, I got carried away by my own fic and didn't know how to end it.

For all these reasons, I'm far from 100% satisfied with it. I keep amending it a little, in the hope that I can make it better.

I've been lurking around the Saezuru fandom for a year, and never participated in anything. I took and never gave, not even an anon post or an intake on anyone's theory. So now, I'm contributing with something, however small or lacking (or corny or OOC). I hope you enjoy reading it!

Doumeki burst into the room.

Kageyama and Kuga sprang apart. Clearly, Kuga had been trying to seduce a relunctant Kageyama into having sex at the clinic, as he often did – sometimes successfully. At the unexpected intrusion, Kuga shouted an angry 'Who the -?' and seemed ready to throw a few punches. But when the identity of the intruder was revealed, his expression actually turned pleased.

'Doumeki!'

In a flash, he crossed the room to where Doumeki was frowning, looking lost and supremely oblivious to the two people in the room. His gaze swept the room twice before finally settling on them.

'Is Boss here?' he asked with even more intensity than usual.

'What? Uh, no, haven't seen him since yesterday.' answered Kuga. 'Why, is playing hide and seek a new fantasy of his?'

The taller man ignored this as if he had not heard (indeed, he had not) and started to retreat, mumbling what sounded like a vague apology. Kuga, now very intrigued, grabed Doumeki's arm, pulled him back into the room and threw him into a nearby chair, alarmed at the half-hearted way Doumeki was trying to fend him off. The more he watched him, the more he realised how dejected and anxious Doumeki was. He looked like an overgrown child who had just learned that his parents had abandoned him.

'What the hell's wrong with you?'

Focusing on him again, Doumeki answered with none of his usual calmness 'I have to find him. He left while I slept after... after, and I don't know where he is now! He could be hurt or- or worse, and it would be all my fault! Again! And I couldn't bear it!' and he lowered his head in his hands.

Kuga and Kageyama stared at him, then raised their brows at each other. Well, Kuga did.

That was more words than they had ever heard the usually unflappable man say, and more fervour than they would have thought he could show, at least in public. Something was definitely very wrong there.

Kuga spoke again. 'God, you seem completely off. Tell us what happened. You're his bodyguard, why would he leave you behind?'

Doumeki straightened up took a great breath, but said nothing.

'Is he angry with you? Did you do something you shouldn't have?'

Doumeki tensed.

'You did?' Kuga said, only half believing his luck. He regained his footing now that he had a vague idea what was going on. 'Sooo, what did you do?'

Silence.

'Did you kiss him?'

Silence. Kageyama frowned.

'Did you... touch him?'

Silence. Kageyama frowned at Kuga. Doumeki seemed to be made of stone.

'Did you... did you fuck him?' said kuga, in disbelief.

'Kuga...' Kageyama sounded stern.

Doumeki hung his head.

After a second of bewilderment, Kuga's laughter broke out, but was swiftly cut off by Doumeki's soft 'That's not right.'

'Huh? What's not right?' asked Kuga, his mirth receding a little at Doumeki's earnest expression.

'I didn't fuck him. We... I made love to him.' and with this, Doumeki raised his head and stared defiantly at the two other men.

Kuga's complexion became a couple of shades redder. 'Doumeki, that's... uhm, very corny.'

Doumeki lowered his gaze.

Kuga started to pace.

'But still, that doesn't really explain... wait.' Kuga stopped and turned back to Doumeki, asking mishievously: 'Are you that bad in bed?'

'Kuga.' Kageyama said, louder and more assertively this time.

'What? The guy took off while Doumeki here was sleeping it off, by the sound of it. One has to wonder. So, Doumeki, did you manage to make him come, yes or no?'

'Yes'. As if it was a matter of course. Despite himself, Kuga shivered.

'How many times?'

'Kuga!' Kageyama sounded slightly alarmed.

'Four'

Kuga's mouth hang open. Kageyama stared at Doumeki. The former was the first to recover.

'In a row? Holy...'

'But one was unintentional'.

'One was... how the hell is that even possible? My God Doumeki, I know the guy's a dirty perv, but even so, you probably overdid it.'

'Don't say that.'

'What?'

'That the boss is a pervert. He just... has a strong sex drive.'

'And likes to take it up the ass so much he can come four times in a row' Kuga countered with a cheeky smile.

'No.'

'No what?' the smile faultered.

'He did not come all four times like that.' Doumeki finished his sentence reluctantly. He realised belatedly that the conversation had taken a rather intimate turn.

'Oh, I see.' Kuga's face went another shade redder. 'And how did he come, intentionally or unintentionally?'

'KUGA!' Kageyama was definitely alarmed now. He was trying to find a way to avoid hearing this conversation without storming out of the room or stuffing his fingers in his ears, and he was failing. He did not believe he could stop his boyfriend's questions, now that Kuga's eyes were so bright with interest.

'I don't think I should tell you.' Doumeki already regretted having told them so much. He found he did not like other people prying into his private moment of bliss with Boss.

'Why not? I'm sure your precious boss would tell us himself if he was here.'

'Tell you what?' sounded a voice in the background, making them all start guiltily. Yashiro's voice. Its owner was standing just outside the room in one of these poses that made him look so effortlessly beautiful and sexy.

Before the two others had a chance to move a muscle, Doumeki had jumped out of his chair.

'Boss!' He crossed the distance that separated him from Yashiro in a single long stride, and fell to his knees in front of him. Then he prostrated himself. 'Boss, I'm so happy to see you! Please don't do this ever again, don't leave me behind. If you want me to, I will swear I'll never touch you again. But please, I beg you, don't send me away, let me stay by your side!'

'My, my, how chatty you've become in my absence' Yashiro sounded playful, but a troubled undercurrent was nonetheless perceptible in his tone. He addressed the two other men in the room. 'So, what was I supposed to tell you if I was here?'

Yashiro's presence and attitude gave Kuga a strong urge to unsettle him. Still a little red in the face, he said: 'How he made you come, including the unintented orgasm, since from what he said he did not manage it all four times with his dick.'

For a second everything was still. Yashiro's eyes widened a little. Everyone else was staring at Yashiro: Kageyama with apprehension, Kuga with defiance, and Doumeki apologetically.

Yashiro shot the latter an unreadable look, and the former a scary smile.

'That's true, I came only twice with his dick. The other two times were with his tongue and with his fingers, respectively. Oh, and the “unintentional”, or' his fingers fluttered to Doumeki's cheek 'should I say “unplanned” orgasm was the first, with his tongue in my ass. Was that everything, or was there something else about our fuck that you wanted to know?' He inclined his head in a gesture that would have been inviting at another time. Instead, Yashiro's tone and expression made it intimidating.

Doumeki looked as if he had been slapped.

Kuga recovered from his embarrassement at the thorough way Yashiro had answered his question when he noticed Doumeki's reaction. He glared accusingly at Yashiro and cried out:

'How dare you say it like that?'

The violence of Kuga's reaction took Yashiro aback. He was used to Kuga's hostility towards him, but he realised this time was different.

'What do you mean?'

Kuga pointed to Doumeki.

'To him, it was not a fuck. He said... he said – Damn, Doumeki, how could you say that with a straight face?' He tried and failed to prevent his face from reddening again. Turning back toward Yashiro, after a deep breath, he managed 'He said you... no, he said he made love to you'.

He was not the type to blush, he wasn't! But those two damn guys really were too much. He could feel his face burning.

Yashiro went very still. A mix of uncharacteristic emotions showed on his face. He looked uncertain and deeply moved, but also very frightened. Kageyama's jaw dropped a fraction.

Yashiro stared into Doumeki's eyes, very slowly raised his hand again, caressed Doumeki's cheek, and whispered 'you said that?' before concluding more loudly, trying for his usual carefree manner 'How corny.'

'That's what I said', interjected Kuga. But Kageyama had already grabbed his arm, giving off a strong “you shut up, now” vibe.

Doumeki was kneeling and staring adoringly up at Yashiro as if the man was his only anchor in a storm.

'Yes, because I do' he said softly.

'You do... what?' said Yashiro breathlessly.

Little pink spots appeared on Doumeki's cheeks. “So, he can get embarrassed” thought Kageyama.

Doumeki straightened a little and whispered:

'Love you'

A beat.

Then, very slowly, almost hesitantly, Yashiro bent to kiss him.

Kageyama wished he was anywhere but there. He was looking for another way out, as the kissing couple was blocking the door. But of course, as he very well knew, there was none.

He cleared his throat. It had no effect whatsoever on the deepening kiss he was made to witness. He suspected Yashiro and Doumeki had totally forgotten his and Kuga's presence.

'Oy! This is a private clinic here, go do this somewhere else!'

Doumeki stood, and for an instant, Kageyama thought he was going to act on his words. But then one of Doumeki's hands shot to the side of Yashiro's neck and the other to the back of Yashiro's head, and Doumeki kissed his partner even more fiercely than before.

Things were escaladating fast.

Kageyama was trying to find a way to halt the kiss and throw the two intruders out without actually getting too close to them, in case Doumeki lashed out at being interrupted. The two of them looked positively entranced, as if nothing and no-one else existed.

He turned to Kuga, and at his mesmerized expression, shook him a little.

Doumeki ended Kageyama's predicament as he lifted Yashiro from the ground and carried him towards the hospital bed on which Kageyama and Kuga had been when he interrupted them, clearing the doorway.

'Let's go' murmured Kageyama in Kuga's ear.

'Huh? You bastard, so we can't do it here today, but they can?' He pouted, craning his neck to watch the other two as they were starting to undress each other, totally oblivious. 'That's so unfair'

Kageyama did not answer. They were finally out of the room and into the corridor. He closed the door and locked the room from the outside. 'Thank God, we're out. They really have no decency'

'No, they really don't'. Kuga smiled.

[inkedangelhaz]

#142

I may have gotten a bit carried away with this prompt but I’ve been meaning to write something like this for a while. Thanks to everyone who requested something from the drabble challenge!

….

#142: “Hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

You’d been a bit skeptical when Harry invited you out to the bar so soon after your breakup. He’d always been a good friend, so you trusted him when he said it would be good for you to get out and have some fun.

It hadn’t been an easy breakup; you’d been completely invested in the relationship when your boyfriend decided to leave you without warning and get with another girl immediately. But Harry had been incredible. He let you stay at his house when you were feeling lonely, and cleared his schedule enough to have lots of movie nights or bring some dinner over to your place. So, you trusted him enough to go along with his plans for the night.

Your dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your heels did a nice job of showing off your legs. Harry’s eyebrows had shot up when he first got a look at you; it had been a while since he’d seen you in anything other than sweatpants or pajamas.

“You look lovely.” He smiled, taking your hand and helping you descend the few steps out of the house.

“You look handsome as well, Harry.”

It wasn’t long until you were pulling up to the bar, Harry sprinting to the other side of the car to open the door for you. The bar was nice; sophisticated but not overly crowded, exactly the way you liked it.

Harry managed to get you to drink a little, with the promise that he’d stay sober in order to get you home safely. You mostly stood out of the way with Harry, swaying to the music and talking a little.

You’d been there a while when a familiar figure came through the door on the other side of the bar, with some skinny blonde girl attached to his arm. You froze. Out of everyone at the bar tonight, the one person you were trying to get over had to show up. Harry had seen you tense, and he barely missed a beat before he leaned down to your ear to ask what was wrong.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

Your eyes remained set on the man on the other side of the bar; the one who had told you he loved you only a few short weeks ago and was now pressing kisses along another girl’s jaw. He suddenly stood up straighter, wrapping his arm around the girl and looking around the bar as if he could tell he was being watched. By you.

“Harry, quick, hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

You didn’t wait for approval before you grabbed his hand tight. Harry looked at your face, clearly confused by the sudden change in your behavior. He followed your gaze, his eyes locking in on the man on the other side of the room, and his hand squeezed yours tighter as soon as he recognized him.

“Is that-”

You nodded quickly. Harry was clearly fuming by now; his hand was nearly cutting off the circulation in yours, and you had to hold him back as he tried to take a step forward and move toward your ex to have a little talk.

“Harry, don’t. It’s not worth it.”

You tugged Harry closer, as you were sure the two sets of eyes across the room had found their way to you. The uncomfortable feeling hit you like a ton of bricks. All of the sudden, you felt self conscious about absolutely everything; you didn’t think you looked nearly as good as the girl your ex had brought along and he was probably over there telling her about how pathetic you were. But Harry sensed it immediately.

“Would you feel better if we just leave?”

You hesitated, not wanting to ruin what was supposed to be a fun night out to make you forget about the very person who had managed to show up at the worst time. But you reluctantly nodded, and Harry was quick to hand some money to the bartender and pull you out of the building.

You were silent most of the way home. There was no way you wanted to talk about what happened, especially since the sick feeling in your stomach confirmed your suspicions that you weren’t any closer to getting over him.

“He’s an ass, you know that right?”

Harry’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you caught his eyes as he rolled up to a red light. You nodded slowly, looking down at your legs when you felt the waterworks coming.

His heart stopped when he saw the first tear fall down your cheek, wanting to reach out and pull you into the biggest hug until you felt better, but he opted for grabbing your hand instead. You pulled his hand farther into your lap, his warm palm anchoring you from getting lost in your own flood of emotions.

“He’s not a good person. He doesn’t deserve your tears, sweetheart. Good riddance.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, as you reached your hand up to wipe the tears.

“I just… I thought he loved me, and seeing him tonight, I don’t think he ever did…”

He was driving up to your house now, as you sniffled and tried to pull yourself together before you had to go inside.

“He didn’t deserve you. He was a shit person, but I promise, you’re going to find someone someday who will treat you so much better than he did. And you’re going to wonder why you ever loved someone like that fucking asshole.”

You swallowed hard, shooting Harry a small smile from across the dimly lit car.

“Thank you.”

His hand was still tight around yours, not willing to let go until he was sure you were okay. He wanted to be some kind of support for you; even though he’d much rather be holding you and kissing your tears away, he needed to just be your best friend for now until you were ready to move on. He’d wait.

He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that your hands fit comfortably together, and his hand was exactly where he wanted it. It wasn’t long before you found your front door staring you down as you resisted letting go of Harry’s hand. You didn’t want to be alone at home again, when it was supposed to be a fun night and make you feel better. You knew as soon as the door shut behind you, you’d break into tears if you didn’t have someone there to keep you preoccupied.

“Do you wanna come in? You can spend the night and we could just hang out.”

Reminding yourself how lucky you were to have an easygoing best friend like Harry, you smiled brightly when he  nodded. But you couldn’t help noticing when his hand latched onto yours after you got out of the car, and again once you got inside after unlocking the door. It wasn’t until you sat down on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on your lap and the remote in your free hand, that you decided to question it. His hand had once again found yours, and you certainly weren’t complaining, but it was a bit unusual for Harry to be this way. He was always cuddly, of course, but something about the stiff way he held your hand tightly was giving you an off feeling.

“Harry, is everything okay?”

He looked confused, as if he didn’t know why you were asking. You thought he’d know what you were referring to when you questioned if there may be something wrong, but it looked as if you were going to have to explain it to him, and you weren’t quite prepared for the awkwardness it might bring.

“You’ve been holding onto my hand all night. I mean, I don’t care, it’s just that you don’t usually act like this. Is there anything bothering you?”

He smiled, giving your hand a small squeeze nonchalantly.

“Everything’s fine. Just, you deserve a little extra love, you know?”

It was a bit of a weird thing to say, honestly. Very sweet that he thought this way, but still weird. So you slowly let go of his hand, scooting closer to him and letting his arm wrap around you instead.

“Your ex was a dick. And he managed to ruin the night I set aside for just us to have some fun. When someone hurts you like that, it hurts me too.”

He frowned. Your hand found his knee, squeezing gently over the torn black fabric where his skin poked through.

“I didn’t know it bothered you this much.” You whispered, staring down at the floor and becoming lost in your thoughts again as silence took over the room.

You knew what it was like to hurt for someone else. You’d felt it for Harry countless times, of course, but you also thought you felt a bit more for him than a friend should, so you always attributed it to that. It was such a feeling of helplessness, when you knew someone you loved was hurting for reasons beyond your control. You reminded yourself that Harry was an exceptionally caring and selfless person, so you stopped yourself from venturing too far into your own fantasies of how he may feel some attraction to you as well. Until he said something you didn’t think he would.

“I love you.”

He blurted it out before he could stop himself, holding his breath afterwards as he feared the repercussions of what he’d just admitted. The look in his eyes said it all; what he just told you was completely true and he was glad you knew it, even if you didn’t feel the same. You stared for a few minutes, both your hearts beating quickly as some of your pain washed away and you realized, maybe he’d been the one you’d been waiting for all this time. So you cuddled up to him, leaning your head on his shoulder and looking upwards to kiss his cheek. You’d need to talk about this situation eventually, but for now, you were content with the knowledge that he loved you and he was already beginning to make you feel more loved than you’d ever felt with your ex.

“I love you too.”

[fateshaped-a]

boys, boys, boys . // drabble .

              With laughter spreading through the locker room, Sebastian was quick enough to pull his t-shirt back down. Fingers rested firmly on the edge of the fabric as he sat down, hands soon occupying themselves with ruffling around in his bag. Just five minutes. All he had wanted was five damn minutes.

              A stereotypical reflex, having been the first one to hit the showers for once. Sebastian was used to shower alone, either first or last. This time, however, he had managed to score a little extra time for once, he had simply asked the teacher if he could slip into the showers a bit earlier than usual (awfully strange coming from a guy, it had seemed, for what he had met was pure skepticism as well as a judgmental face from his own gym teacher). The thought of being surrounded by other guys his age made him uneasy. Besides, there was just something about showering on his own that made him feel a bit safer, for some reason. The empty halls and clear showers created a barrier, a safe spot for his comfort zone, one where he actually dared to undress and shower.

              Though, today seemed to be yet another day with Sebastian making himself occupied, so he could wait until the last one had left. He hated that. He hated waiting around, but something inside his mind kept him from undressing. An unknown voice, a gnawing presence in the back of his head whispering ill words.

              He just… didn’t like getting undressed.

              As the door opened, a massive pile of tall, broad guys rampaged through the door. Loud laughter accompanying them in every step. Not once did he look up. He had no intentions of talking today, at least not to these guys. Not the jocks, not the ones that always managed to pull the worst out of each other. They always made him feel…

              “Hey Claire?”

              Sebastian froze, his eyes now locked at the contents of his bag. Maybe he had heard wrong. Maybe it had been a different name. It had to be. It… just had to be. That name, that curse, was not something he used, not among this society, nor anywhere near people he went to the same school as. He despised it.

              “C l a i r e – ?” the guy called again, the voices surrounding them dimming down, bit by bit. “Are you ignoring me now, come on, Claire, I saw you hit the showers early today… You were on my team after all, do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

              The daredevil refused to answer, his hands busy as they kept ruffling around in his bag.

              He had never, ever enjoyed that name. The mere fact that his mother had simply forced his father to accept that add on was truly terrifying. It was a girl’s name. A female name. Why on earth had he, of all things, been given a girl’s name? He was already scrawny. He knew that. IF there was one thing Sebastian had full knowledge of, it was his lacking appearance, skills and general personality of the stereotypical vision of a man. For each time the jock called out the younger’s name, he felt his head lower. Shame. Great shame. He couldn’t stand it.

              Why him.

               It was only the matter of a couple of minutes until Sebastian found himself in the shade of a taller male, his hands halting as he sensed the other’s presence. He could smell him. It wasn’t easy to avoid. The other reeked of sweat, and being taller than him as well Sebastian was stuck in the groin area. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

               “What’s the matter, cutie?” he called, cooed, as he leaned over Sebastian, arm planted against the wall as he gazed down at him. “Don’t you like it when boys show off to you? I got all sweaty just for you –”

               “Haha, funny…” Sebastian forced out, a stifled laughter coming as he leaned closer to the wall, eyes glaring up at the other. “I’m trying to change here, so… if you – could… move, please?”

               “You want me to move?”

               “That’d be great, yeah, thanks.”

               “Want me…” he paused, eyes meeting as he leaned himself closer to Sebastian, his groin forcing the smaller boy’s body completely against the wall. It was a reflex for Sebastian. It was not the first time it had happened (there was a reason he always waited to head into the locker rooms). And the male did not make it better was he allowed himself to cup Sebastian’s cheek as he continued, “—to move closer then? I heard girls like it when guys offer them their dicks.”

              Met with amused whistling and wooing, Sebastian’s face turned red. He hated this. He hated the constant sexuality in the room. The hormones of the other guys, the bursting need to show dominance over one another with ridiculous sex based cock jokes. It was disgusting. Revolting. He had never, ever liked it. It left him pale, pale with fear, pale with intimidation over what the other even suggested (he knew himself well enough, and that comment hit home).

               Girls. Females. He wasn’t a girl. He had never, ever been a girl.

               “Too bad I’m not a girl then,” he responded, hoarsely as he elbowed his classmate’s side, gently, for he had no intentions of hurting him (the harder he’d hit, the funnier the other would probably find it).

               But oh, how short lived his comment was.

As Sebastian attempted to push the other away, a firm squeeze was given to his cheeks. The other male grinned as he turned his head around, gazing back at a smaller crew that had gathered up behind him for the sake of entertainment. Picking on the rookie, how grown of them.

               (I hate this)

               “Did you hear that, guys? Claire here says that… it isn’t female; but why the fuck does it have a girl’s name… if it doesn’t come with a pair of tits,” he laughed, chanting almost, as he hauled along the other guys, “—Wow, I am… at shock, for here I thought I had scored the real gem of the girls…”

               (I want it to stop, it’s getting old)

              Sebastian let them. He let them. For every insult, word, comparison and laugh that came, he allowed it to happen. He had no intentions of fighting back, for he knew that there was no point. He didn’t want to be the guy who solved things with violence, nor did Sebastian want to pick a bone with them. They were large. They were heavy. They had once been friends with him at some point, but now… Thanks to the wondrous system of the jungle law, the desire and need to prove their own worth, he had been pushed aside.

              It hurt.

              Everything hurt and it made him sick. The more they commented, the dizzier he became. Every word was a needle, his skin punctured and impaled. They mocked him for who he was, for a mistake and trait his own parent had given him. A name led to a thousand words and a billion of thoughts on his side. Girl. Girly. Female. He had heard it so many times, each and every one who had come across that darn name had laughed at it. Sebastian didn’t even mind being referred to as an ‘it’, of all things in the world he’d rather be an ‘it’ than anything else. That way…he was at least something (else).

              He was a living joke thanks to that name. He was nothing but a joke.

               “You’d make a cute girl, Claire, I bet those legs would look real good in a skirt!” he laughed.

               Skirt. Skirt.

               He twitched, eyes diverting as face turned red.

               (It was…as if they knew.)

Paranoia brewed in Sebastian’s chest, his heart quivering as he once again shoved his elbow into the male’s side. He couldn’t deal with it. He couldn’t. His mind panicked as his hands started pushing the guy away. No. No. Not that. The name was enough. It was more than enough. Why did they have to link it up towards that, of all things and pieces of clothing in the world.

Why. The. Fuck?

He felt sick. God, he wanted to throw up.

               Leaning back, the guy allowed himself to take a closer look at the reaction he had provoked, a curious hue brewing across his eyes as he let go. “No way… Your face is red?”

               “Leave me alone, okay.”

               “Your face – do you – do you guys see this!?”

               (No one was supposed to know)

Forcing himself out and up from his seat, Sebastian grabbed onto his stuff. Hasty feet shuffled, his body colliding with several guys as he made his way out and away from the crowd. All around were people, several eyes and their stares. Bullets, all of them. They shot in Sebastian’s direction, his eyes wet as he pushed the door open with a slam. He didn’t want this. He didn’t need this. The entire building was spinning and his legs had turned to jelly. Every step he made left him weaker, his hands clinging onto his stuff with all their might. He needed to run, he needed to get away. Their laughter stuck to his mind like syrup. It grew on him, turned louder the further away he got.

               He felt so sick. He needed to throw up.

               He needed…something. Something else. Something safe.

Hurrying away from the gym hall, Sebastian automatically brought his phone up from his bag. Everything dropped, his full attention and trembling hands stuck on the screen of his phone as he opened his messages. He needed to text, but every word he tried to type turned to a mess. What was he even going to write? He couldn’t write what had happened. Seth wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t be able to make anything out of it.

              Would… he even see it?

              …what if he looked away from his phone?

              A sulk came, quietly as transparent drops fell onto his screen. He’d have to apologize, he really would. He knew that Seth would be in class, yet… he pressed dial.

              And every sound felt endless there he stood, his hopeless self, in the middle of his school yard all by himself with tears streaming down his face. Every beep was a given rejection, every passing second making him want to withdraw the call and walk home.

              Weak.

              So weak.

              And yet so utterly sturdy.

              With the sudden change of sound, his boyfriend’s quick response breaching through to him, all Sebastian could do was to take a sharp inhale. A sob broke through again as he sent his hand to his mouth. He had no idea what to say. He had no idea why he called. Seth had a life of his own, pulling him out of class or practice like this, god. Who did Sebastian think he was?

              Who did Claire think he was.

              “S----eth…” he sulked, voice thin as he pressed the phone closer, “C-------oul---d…”

              He froze. What was he even going to ask? His mind had gone completely blank.

              He felt so…scared. For once Sebastian was scared.

               Yet another sulk.                He didn’t have the guts to speak up.

[fortheloveofpearlet]

Babeeee, you are so good. And I neeeeeeed a Pearlet being doctors like Grey's anatomy(?)

Thank you darling! I have never seen Grey’s Anatomy so I have just gone with the doctors idea and what I figure probably happens on that show so hopefully it’s ok! Also I realised after I’d written this that it has almost nothing to do with them being doctors but I tried! Possible I might make this into an actual fic in the future.

Send me sentence prompts and drag race pairings and I’ll write you a little drabble!

The ring on his finger caught the light as the blonde awkwardly played with his hands. He saw it glisten and he had a surge of guilt storm his whole body but he tried his best to ignore it. The brunette was staring at him, maybe willing him to say something or maybe willing himself to say something, the blonde wasn’t sure. The already small space felt smaller somehow, like the walls could be closing in on them. The blonde felt like he couldn’t breathe properly, a wave of nausea hit him. His ring caught the light again and the guilty feeling didn’t do anything to help the nausea so he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his white coat. The brunette must have known why he was doing this as he held up his hand and twirled his own ring around his finger.‘I feel like the guilts slowly eating away at me.’ Jason finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. If anyone was to walk by the medical supply closet they would hear them if they were too loud. Matt kept his hands in his pockets.'Slowly? Not for me. It feels like the guilt has taken up residence in my body and has destroyed everything in its path.’ Matt spoke slightly melodramatically. Jason raised an eyebrow at him.'It was just a kiss.’ He whispered. 'It didn’t mean anything right?’'Of course not.’ Matt was quick to say, almost too quick. 'I’m not gay. I love my wife. We’d just had too much to drink.’'Yeah same. I mean if my wife found out she would go insane but…she’s not going to find out right?’ Jason stopped looking at his wedding ring and stuffed his own hands in his pockets now.'She’s not going to find out from me.’ Matt insisted. 'And I’m pretty sure no one else saw.’'Pretty sure?’ Jason frowned. 'How sure is pretty sure?’'I don’t know Jason!’ Matt sounded exasperated. 'I was a little too preoccupied to be scoping out who was watching.’ Preoccupied with your tongue down my throat.'Someone would have said something by now right? It’s been a week, I’m sure if someone saw they would have said something.’'Maybe.’ Matt shrugged. 'Look let’s just forget about it ok? There’s not a whole lot we can do about it now anyway. It happened, it was dumb. Let’s just get on with things and never talk about it again.’'Agreed.’ Jason nodded.'Right well…I guess I’ll see you around.’ Matt reached passed Jason and grabbed a handful of disposable gloves and gauze before he hurried out of the supply closet. Jason fell back against the one empty wall and sighed heavily. He and Matt had known each other for years. They’d first met in medical school, they’d done their residencies together and finally got offered jobs at the same hospital. Matt was a surgeon and Jason was on the medical side but they’d always been close despite the divide. Maybe they’d been too close? They were at each other’s weddings, Jason remember watching Matt marry Naomi like it was yesterday, he wondered if Matt remembered Jason’s wedding to Courtney as well. Jason had never looked at Matt as anything more than his friend, at least he didn’t think he had. But last week things had changed. It had been the hospital Christmas party and for once both Jason and Matt had been off shift and decided to go. One thing had led to another, copious amounts of alcohol had been consumed and somehow the night had ended with a kiss. Jason had no idea if he’d kissed Matt or if Matt had kissed him but he supposed it didn’t matter either way. It had happened and Jason was sure that this was going to destroy their friendship. He sighed again, knowing someone would be looking for him soon, if they weren’t already. He grabbed a handful of medical supplies that he didn’t need, it was just a cover, and exited the supply closet.

Jason and Matt didn’t cross paths again for some weeks. The hospital was large which meant avoiding each other was easier than you’d think. Things had been strained at home for both of them. Since the kiss they had both been acting differently and their wives had noticed. How had they let this happen? They’d both blamed the drink but surely all the alcohol in the world couldn’t change your sexuality? They were both starting to worry that maybe there had always been some kind of feelings there and the alcohol had just brought it to the surface. It wouldn’t be the first time either of them had questioned their sexuality, but they had their wives to think about. They both had to forget about the kiss the best they could and just get on with things.

Jason was finishing up his rounds for the evening and looking forward to going home. He massaged the back of his neck and stretched a little before whipping off his latex gloves and tossing them in the trash.'You look exhausted Dr Dardo.’ Kim, one of the nurses told Jason frankly.'Thanks Kim.’ He rolled his eyes.'Sorry.’ She shrugged. 'You just look like you’ve been working too hard is all.’He had been working too hard. He’d been taking all the shifts he could just so he could spend less time at home. The less time he spent around Courtney the less guilty he felt. He had barely been able to look her in the eye since the kiss and they certainly hadn’t been intimate since. Jason always feigned tiredness in the bedroom because if truth be told he was worried about thinking about Matt if he was with her. And he couldn’t have that. He didn’t want to risk it. And also, maybe recently he didn’t find Courtney as attractive as he once had. She was stunning, there was no denying that but Jason didn’t have that overwhelming urge to jump her every time he saw her like he used to. He tried to tell himself that’s just what happened after so many years together but until the kiss he’d still looked at Courtney that way.'Maybe I have.’ He sighed. 'I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?’ He didn’t wait for a response, he didn’t need one. He turned away from the nurses station and headed down the halls towards the staff locker rooms. His eyes were heavy and his body ached. He felt way older than his years. He was pulling his hair down from its bun as he headed down the corridor when all of a sudden there was a hand on his wrist and he was being tugged into the supply closet.'What the fuck?’ Jason raised his voice angrily. 'You could have given me a fucking-’'Shush.’ Matt clamped his hand over Jason’s mouth. 'I needed to see you.’ Matt took his hand off Jason’s mouth and momentarily looked at his wedding ring before looking back at Jason.'I’m on way out of here, can it wait until tomorrow?’ Jason knew it couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Matt wouldn’t have accosted him like that if it could.'No, this can’t wait another second.’ Matt took a deep breath. 'I love Naomi.’ He whispered looking down at his wedding ring again. 'But it’s you I can’t stop thinking of.’ He looked back up at Jason, his face a picture of nerves. Jason’s heart hammered at Matt’s words. Matt stepped a little closer to him and held up his left hand. He slid the gold wedding band off his finger and put it in the pocket of his white coat. 'I know taking off my ring doesn’t make this ok, but I just want a moment where that ring isn’t complicating things.’ He stepped ever closer to Jason and took hold of his hand. He spun the ring around Jason’s finger. 'Can I?’ He whispered. Jason looked down at his hand and then back up at Matt. He bit his lip and nodded dumbly. Matt slid the ring off Jason’s finger and dropped it in the pocket of Jason’s coat. He took a step back again.'Now what?’ Jason whispered.'I don’t know.’ Matt shrugged. 'I mean I do know, but I’m scared.’Jason nodded, he was scared too. But he also knew that he wanted Matt more than he’d ever wanted another human being in his whole life. He didn’t care that Matt was a guy, he didn’t care that Matt was his friend and he didn’t care that they both had wives at home. He didn’t care about anything in that moment except Matt. Jason stepped closer to Matt now and cautiously cupped the older man’s face.'I can’t fight this anymore. Fighting this is exhausting.’ Jason told him and then he was moving closer and his eyes were closing and so were Matt’s. Jason’s soft lips pressed against Matt’s and they felt even better than the first time somehow. Jason wrapped his arms around Matt’s neck and Matt wrapped his around Jason’s waist. Jason shrugged his white coat off and helped Matt out of his. They were making out desperately, only just realising how much they both needed this. Matt got Jason out of his scrubs top and Jason in return helped Matt out of his. Their bodies pushed up against each other, flesh meeting flesh and it felt so incredible. Matt spun them around and pushed Jason into the wall. They were both hard, it was easy to tell through the flimsy material of their hospital trousers. Matt grinded his hips into Jason and the younger man moaned into Matt’s mouth. Matt’s hands found Jason’s long ebony hair and he threaded his fingers in it. They were moaning into each other’s mouths, so in need of more. Jason’s hands wandered Matt’s toned chest and got lower and lower until they reached his waistband. Jason cupped Matt’s dick through his trousers and Matt hissed.'Can I?’ Jason panted into Matt’s mouth.'Please.’ Matt whined a little. Jason’s hand found the waistband again and his fingers were just moving inside his trousers when the voice boomed over the tannoy.'Dr Lent, paging Dr Lent to first floor recovery. Paging Dr Lent.’Matt sprung back from Jason, panting and flushed from embarrassed.'Oh fuck.’ He shook his head and started scrabbling about to get his top and coat back on. 'Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.’ He panicked. He pulled the ring from his pocket and reluctantly slid it back on his finger. He made a dash for the door but Jason stood in front of it.'Is that it now? You don’t talk to me for another few weeks?’ Jason folded his arms.'Jason I have to go, we’ll talk late-’'No.’ Jason cut him off. 'Tell me right now what the fuck happens when you walk out that door.’Matt sighed and bit his lip.'I’m not ready for people to know. I’m not ready to leave Naomi.’'That’s ok, I’m not ready for that either. But I want you Matt, even if it is just in secret.’ Jason confessed and he waited with baited breath for Matt’s response. Matt’s eyes went to his wedding band briefly before finding Jason’s gaze again.'I think we can arrange something.’ Matt half-smiled and then he kissed Jason softly. 'But I really have to go. I get off shift in a couple of hours. There’s this motel on the edge of town-’'I know it.’ Jason’s eyes sparkled. 'I’ll see you there.’ He kissed Matt once more and then Matt exited the supply closet just another announcement was beckoning him. Jason got dressed with a smile on his face. He knew this was so, so wrong on so many levels. But if it was wrong, why did it feel so right?

[fortheloveofpearlet]

CLAT girls 4 way of some description?? ✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻

Thank you darling! Peppermint and Sasha are cis girls, Aja and Alexis are male. Peppermint and Aja are married and Sasha and Alexis are married. Probably quite Sasha heavy cos you know I love her! Not sure where this idea came from but enjoy love! Got a bit carried away with the story over the smut 😖.

Send me sentence prompts and drag race pairings and I’ll write you a little drabble!

Sasha wrapped the sheet around her bare chest and exhaled a little heavier than she’d meant to. She didn’t want to leave him, she never wanted to leave him. But that was how this worked. It was only quick fucks and nothing more. Those were the rules. At the end of the night she still had to go home with her husband, no matter how much she wanted to stay in Jay’s arms.

Sensing her upset, Jay sat up in the bed and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He placed a gentle kiss on her shaved head.‘I don’t want to go either.’ He whispered as if reading her mind.'But we have to.’ Sasha sighed.'Yeah, we do.’ Jay turned her in his arms and kissed her. 'Until next time.’ He spoke into her lips. It was a small comfort. Only a small one.

Joining a swingers club had been Alex’s idea. He and Sasha had been together since they were young teens, each other’s first and only. After almost twenty years together, things had grown a little stale. Sasha had been reluctant when he’d mention swinging, she didn’t want to be with another man. Then she’d met Jay. It was supposed to be a different man each time they went to a meet but it was always Jay, her husband didn’t know this though. She had no idea how many partners he’d had at their meetings, she didn’t know if Alex had ever been with Jay’s wife Agnes or not. She didn’t ask. She didn’t want to know. Honestly, she didn’t really care. For some reason, all she cared about recently was Jay.

It was their turn to host a meeting for the first time. Their house was full of beautiful men and woman but all Sasha saw was Jay. About an hour into the night he and his gorgeous wife headed their way. Agnes was tall with curves in all the right places. She had beautiful dark skin and curly black hair. Sasha had never been interested in woman but if she were to be, she would be interested in Agnes.'Hey there.’ Jay smiled at her in that way that made Sasha go a little weak. She hadn’t felt that way about someone since the first time she met Alex.'Hi.’ She replied shyly.'Hi.’ Alex put his arm around Sasha’s shoulders as he spoke.'So no point in beating around the bush, Agnes and I had an idea we’d like to run by you.’ Jay was still only looking at Sasha. It made her heart race.'Ok, I’m listening.’ Alex replied. Jay finally looked at Alex, then at Agnes and back at Sasha.'How would the two of you like to join the two of us in the bedroom?’ Jay’s eyes were sparkling dangerously almost in time with his septum ring. Sasha’s stomach flipped. She knew both Jay and Agnes were bisexual, Jay had told her, but she wasn’t. And as far as she was aware Alex wasn’t either. She stayed quiet, she didn’t want to be the one to decline their invite; she was sure Alex would do that for them. She saw Alex eyeing each of them up for a little while, maybe he was trying to come up with the best way to turn them down. He tightened his hold on Sasha and then he spoke.'I think we’d like that a lot.’ He smiled at the other couple. Sasha’s heart raced again but for different reasons this time. She looked at her husband.'Alex?’ She whispered.'Come on dear.’ He moved his hand to the small of her back and motioned for her to follow the other two. She did, she never could say no to Alex. She was ridiculously nervous. What if Alex could tell she had feelings for Jay? What would happen if he found out? And also she’d never been with a woman, what the hell was she supposed to do? But before she knew it they were in their spare room. Jay and Agnes sat on the bed and Sasha stood awkwardly by the door. She made eye contact with Jay and he gave her a soft smile.'Come here sweetie, I don’t bite.’ Agnes curled her finger and summoned Sasha over. Sasha’s breathing was heightened as she did as she was told. Sasha was very submissive, always doing what others told her. Alex had always said, Sasha wouldn’t say boo to a goose, and it was true. In all honesty when Alex had proposed to her when she was just seventeen she’d been too afraid to say no. Not that she was scared of her husband, she supposed she was just scared of not finding anyone else that would ever love her. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to marry him, maybe she just said yes because she always did. She sat down on the bed next to Agnes and her thoughts soon disappeared when Agnes took hold of her face and kissed her. Sasha gasped a little and Agnes took advantage of that and plunged her tongue in the younger woman’s mouth. Sasha just let it happen, always the submissive. She let Agnes lay her back on the bed and she let Agnes’ hand slide up her bare thigh. Sasha couldn’t really move. The way Agnes soft hand felt on her skin was making her feel things she’d never experienced before. And she couldn’t deny the way Agnes was kissing her was stirring something inside her. She felt the weight of the bed shift and Agnes tore her lips away from Sasha’s allowing her to look to the side. Jay was straddling Alex next to them, kissing him hard. Sasha had never seen her husband kiss anyone else, let alone another man. Alex had never let on that he was interested in men but judging by the way he was desperately grabbing at Jay’s shirt to undo it she assumed he must be. Jay opened his eyes and winked at Sasha as he kissed her husband. Her head was all over the place, she had no idea what to think. Just as Alex was getting Jay out his shirt Agnes’ lips found their way back to Sasha’s. Her hand was rising higher on the younger woman’s leg and Sasha gasped again as it came to a stop outside her underwear. 'Touch her.’ Alex groaned. Sasha looked over at her husband and he smiled at her, pulling her in for a kiss. Agnes sat back so Alex could pull Sasha’s dress over her head, leaving her in just her underwear. Jay’s eyes were on hers and only hers as Agnes got out of her own dress. He got himself and Alex undressed to their pants but he was only looking at her. His lips started moving but no words came out. Sasha only just understand what he was mouthing to her, ’it’s ok beautiful.’ It made her nervousness start to melt away. Agnes’ hand returned to the outside of Sasha’s underwear and she slid them down her creamy skin. Sasha felt exposed, but the way Jay was still looking at her made her not care. Agnes started caressing Sasha between her legs and Sasha gasped once more. Alex leant over her and started kissing her as Agnes’ fingers plunged inside her. Jay was staring at her, smiling. He came closer to them and started touching Alex through his pants. Sasha watched and moaned as Agnes scissored her, her thumb rubbing over her clit making her wet instantly. Jay pulled Alex away from Sasha’s lips and laid him back on the bed. Sasha watched as he started kissing down her husbands body until her reached his pants which he quickly removed from his body. Sasha was panting and moaning as Jay took Alex’s length in his mouth. He was looking up at Sasha with hodded eyes. His hand wandered the bed until he found Sasha’s and he entwined their fingers. Sasha smiled and moaned deeply as Agnes’ fingers plunged deeper inside her. Alex was moaning too at the feeling of Jay’s lips running up and down his dick. Agnes took hold of Sasha’s free hand and placed it on her breast. Sasha wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do so she squeezed it and Agnes smiled encouragingly at her. Agnes reached behind herself and unhooked her bra with her free hand. She moved herself a little so her chest was close to Sasha’s face and a surge of confidence came over Sasha and she pulled the other woman closer and started sucking on her tit. Jay smiled around Alex and gave her hand a squeeze. Sasha came with a moan muffled by Agnes’ breast. Agnes withdrew her fingers and sat back. Jay quickly let go of Sasha’s hand. 'Ok boys, enough foreplay.’ She told them. 'I want my husband to fuck you.’ She told Sasha, stroking her porcelain cheek. Sasha’s heart skipped a beat. She wanted nothing more in the world than for Jay to fuck her, she wasn’t hugely keen on the idea of Agnes and Alex watching them though. Jay came off Alex'a dick and gave his wife’s ass a pinch.'I want my wife to fuck you.’ He told Alex. Alex looked more than happy to oblige and Agnes moved so she was now straddling Alex. She took off her pants while Alex opened the condom Jay had handed him. Jay came over to Sasha and kissed her softly.'Are you ok beautiful?’ He whispered in her ear.'I am now.’ She whispered in reply. He stroked her shaved head and got out of his boxers and helped her out of her bra. He straddled Sasha and rolled the condom over his length. Almost in unison, Jay entered Sasha while Agnes lowered herself onto Alex. The room with filled with moans. Sasha’s eyes were locked on Jay and he smiled at her as he began slowly and gently thrusting in her.'You’re so wet.’ He told her, as if she didn’t know that already. In comparison to the softness which Jay was showing Sasha, Agnes bounced hard on Alex’s dick and he moved his hips to fuck her harder. Alex grabbed Sasha’s hand a little roughly and put it on one of Agnes’ tits. Sasha didn’t even really notice, she was too wrapped up in the way Jay felt inside her. Their eyes were locked on one another’s as though the others weren’t even here. He was so gentle with Sasha, so caring. It made her feel as though she could cry. Jay made Sasha come with ease, he seemed to know her body and what she liked as though they’d known each other forever. She never had to fake it with Jay, not like she did so often with her husband. Alex and Agnes finished up while Jay just took the moment to stroke Sasha’s face and kiss her. There was something about the way Jay looked at her that made her feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. They came back to reality when Agnes and Alex finished. They got rid of the condoms and got dressed in slightly awkward silence.'Right I need a drink.’ Agnes laughed.'I’m sure I can assist you with that.’ Alex linked his arm through hers. 'Are you coming babe?’ He asked Sasha.'I’ll be right there.’ Sasha told him, getting her shoes back on. Agnes and Alex left the room but Jay hung back. Once the door was closed he came over to Sasha and cupped her face. He kissed her softly and it made her melt.'I made a decision.’ He told her.'What kind of decision?’'I’m leaving Agnes.’His words shocked her. Her eyes widened as she stared at him.'What? Why?’'You know why.’ Jay laughed a little and kissed her again. 'I’ve fallen for you Sasha. I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the one I want to be with.’Sasha’s heart swelled. God she felt the same, she was crazy about Jay. A small tear escaped her eye and Jay wiped it away. 'Run away with me Sasha.’That should be a tough decision. That should be something that took a long time to think over. But honestly Sasha had been thinking about it since the first time she’d met Jay. She loved Alex, at least once she might have done. But she’d never felt like this before, the way she felt about Jay was completely new to her. She felt like a teenage girl with a crush. She knew she and Alex had run their course years ago. So really, it was one of the easiest decisions of her life.'Yes.’ She nodded, pulling Jay close and gently kissing him. 'I love you Jay, I’ll run anywhere with you.’ And maybe for the first time in Sasha’s life, that was a yes she meant. She didn’t say it because she felt she had to, or because it was easier to. She said yes because it was the only thing she wanted in the whole world. Jay wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.'Oh god you don’t know how happy that makes me to hear. I love you so much Sasha.’ He spoke into her ear. It was the easiest and greatest yes Sasha had ever given. Her life started today. Right here, right now she was getting her do over. Her whole life she’d felt like she was just getting by, waiting for her real life to begin and wondering if it ever really would. Today was the day her real life began. And she was never looking back.