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moonlit-jeno · 3 years

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red door, yellow door (m.)

pairing: mark lee x fem reader x jung jaehyun

words: 8.1k

a/n: this is a repost from my old bts blog! pls don’t ask abt it bc i no longer actively follow bts :)

One of these days, you’re going to kill your coworkers.

You love them, you really do, but sometimes they can just be so dumb. It was Donghyuck and Renjun who came up with the idea to play this stupid game, one that is probably only played by naive 12 year old girls during slumber parties.

Normally you’d just brush it off, but Renjun had called you a wimp, so naturally you had to do it. Which is how you’ve ended up on your back with your best friend massaging circles into your forehead.

“Red door, yellow door, any other color door,” is being chanted around the room. You fight the urge to move your neck to a more comfortable position on Mark’s lap. Your hand twitches above your head, where your arms are raised. “This is stupid,” You whisper, and Mark laughs, scolding you lightly.

After a while, the mindless chanting lulls you to sleep, and you feel yourself drift off.

“What do you see?”

Two doors appear in front of you, one red and one yellow. They both look kind of old, paint chipping and peeling off.

“Anything else?”

A black door appears next to the yellow one and you find yourself drawn to it, wanting to go in. This one is shinier, considerable newer and more inviting compared to the other two

“Go in.”

You open the door and walk through, a sense of relief flooding through your senses as you give in to the pull. The room that you find yourself in seems never ending, the only thing in it a large bed.

“Do you see anyone?”

A man appears, sitting on the bed. The suit he’s wearing is unfitting for the plain surroundings- in fact, he’s unfitting for the surroundings in general. His teeth are blinding white when he smiles, not a hair out of place on his entire head. He’s attractive, all golden skin and beautiful features. Almost too beautiful. A shiver crawls up your spine, a tinge of discomfort bleeding into your senses. He smiles, dimples popping out, and you push the discomfort to the back of your mind.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out distant to your own ears, echoing around you.

“Call me Jaehyun. Why don’t you come here, little bird? We can get properly acquainted.” The voice sounds haunting, like a distorted video. You wouldn’t believe that he’s speaking if his lips didn’t move in sync. Despite the unnatural voice sounding warning bells in your brain, you find yourself moving forward automatically and settling down on his lap when he pats his thigh for emphasis.

“And what’s your name, little bird?” He trails a hand up and down your thigh and you shiver, leaning back against him. He chuckles when you tell him your name, a pleased smile lighting up his features.

“Well, little bird, seems that we’re going to have some fun together.”

Your name is being echoed all around you, and you wake with a jolt, eyes flying open to see Mark staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The rest of your group is also gathered around you, standing in a half circle.

“Yeah, just fell asleep for a bit. Why?” You push yourself onto your elbows, sitting up so that you can lean against Mark.

Donghyuck plops down on the floor, sitting so that he’s facing you. “You were talking like you were having a conversation with someone. Who was it?”

You shrug, trying not to dull his excitement. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

“Was he wearing a suit?” Renjun asks, standing behind Hyuck. He grimaces when you nod. “Y/n, we literally told you not to talk to anyone in a suit. We told you not to talk to anyone. It’s in the rules.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how serious he gets when it comes to stuff like this. “Relax, it’s fine. He seemed nice, and it’s not like it was anything real.”

Renjun still doesn’t look convinced, but Mark interrupts his paranoia by doing what he’s best- or worst, depending on who you ask- at, cracking jokes.

“Hey, was he eating deviled eggs?” He laughs at his own joke, and everyone else groans. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. His place was probably such a hellhole.” The bad mood dissolves into jokes and loud laughter for the rest of the night.

You leave the party- or gathering as Donghyuck had called it because it sounded more mysterious- when it starts storming. The rain drenches you and pretty much everyone else that’s sitting on the porch, leaving you scrambling for shelter. Luckily, Mark offers you a ride.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Mark hollars out the window of his truck, his words getting lost in the night as he speeds off. His truck hits a pothole and you can imagine him swearing as his head hits the roof. Giggling to yourself, you unlock your apartment and slip inside. It’s close to 2 in the morning, so you decide that if you’re already not going to get that much sleep, why not binge Shameless?

You only get through two episodes before your eyelids feel heavy, and you have to fight to keep them open. On screen, there’s a bar fight that you try to take interest in, but sleep quickly pulls you under.

“Welcome back, little bird.” The voice is all around you, but no matter how much you turn and search, no one’s to be found.

“Turn around, little bird, I am here.” Spinning abruptly, you come face to face with the man from earlier, Jaehyun. He gives you a chilling grin.

“So we meet again,” he starts, and his voice no longer sounds eerie or inauthentic. He sounds like, well, a normal man. “Tell me, what would you do if I were to kiss you?”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips on instinct. “Depends. Are you a good kisser?” You aim for coy, but you miss the mark and land closer to worried.

“You could say that.” He pulls you close with one hand on the back of your head, stopping right before your lips. “May I?”

You nod, and he pulls you in for a gentle, closed mouth kiss.

It’s like that touch ignites a fire in you, because before you know it, your arms are thrown around his neck, dragging him closer to deepen the kiss. You lick along his lower lip and he readily grants you access, a throaty groan leaving him when you suck on his tongue. Liquid heat courses through your veins when he nips at your lower lip, tongue flicking over it in apology. You moan, raw and needy. He likes that, if the chuckle and wicked grin is anything to go by. Picking you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, he walks over to a bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

He drops you on the bed, and then suddenly you’re both naked. Jaehyun leans over you, all lean muscles and golden skin. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his legs, and you have the urge to swallow him down. He groans, as if reading your mind, and then reaches to pump himself slowly, long fingers wrapped around the length. “Not now, little bird, not now. I have something else in mind.” With one gentle push to your shoulders, you’re lying flat on the bed, Jaehyun between your legs. His mouth hovers over your core, already wet and dripping despite not having been touched. He plays idly with the slick on your upper thigh, drawing random patterns into the flesh. His eyes are dark, and you could swear that they’re entirely black, no white visible. He peers curiously up at you from between your legs, watching your reaction as his fingers get closer and closer to where you want him. Your breathing picks up as arousal thrums through your body, center pulsing and aching for some sort of relief.

“May I have you?” His breath ghosts over your center when you speak, the sensation making you even needier.

You nod quickly. “Take it, fuck, you have all of me.” He grins, wasting no time in diving in. His tongue feels impossibly good, licking up your folds and circling over your clit. He leaves sloppy kisses along your core, one hand massaging your thigh and keeping you spread open. You cry out when his tongue pushes into you, his nose brushing your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

His tongue feels impossibly long, so good inside of you that you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hips buck up desperately, riding his face to hell and back. One arm gets thrown over your stomach to keep you in place while two fingers from his free hand dip into your soaking core, curling into that spot immediately. Stars flash behind your eyes, one hand coming down to fist in Jaehyun’s hair. Your feet scramble frantically along his back, heels digging in in an effort to anchor yourself, toes curling at the sensations singing through you.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer, heat pooling in your center. You whimper brokenly as you try to chase after your high, grinding your hips along his tongue. He lets you, just holding his tongue flat out for you to ride.

You come like that, falling apart on his tongue, screams of his name falling from your lips. He works you through it, tongue gently licking along your folds, slurping up your arousal as if he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

You lay there, boneless and whimpering weakly through the aftershocks until Jaehyun pulls away to kiss up your body. He licks into your mouth hotly, reminding you that he hasn’t come yet. You bat weakly at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “Your turn,”

He groans in appreciation at the view of you above him. “So perfect, little bird. I’m gonna have so much fun with your soul.”

This sentence freezes you in your spot. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jaehyun meets your gaze, black eyes entrancing you. “That means, y/n, that I’m going to have your soul. You belong to me now, hmm?” One of his hands plays gently with a strand of your hair. “That’s what you agreed to earlier, no?”

“N-no.” You try backing away, but the inhuman voice from earlier is back, echoing everywhere, repeating his words over and over until you can’t take it anymore-

You wake with a gasp, hitting your head as you sit up. Your computer is still on your lap, episode fifteen playing. Fuck, you’ve only been asleep for forty five minutes. It’s not even three yet, and you don’t have to go to work until eight. Deciding there’s no way you’re falling back asleep, you get up and decide to bake.

Five hours later, your coworkers love you when you show up with containers of cinnamon rolls, five different types of cookies, and a coffee cake. Mark looks mildly worried.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you bake since high school.” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to face Mark. The look of concern on your best friend’s face is enough to make you feel guilty and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had a bad dream last night and couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You respond, trying not to show how bothered you actually are.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark leans forward over his desk, chin planted on his hand.

“No, it’s gonna sound dumb.” You whine, shaking your head. And it is dumb, even to you. You’re scared because you had a dream that some man ate you out and then told you he was going to take your soul?

“Well, you always sound dumb. Of course your dreams are gonna be dumb.” Mark laughs as you chuck a piece of cake at him, infectious laugh soothing you. You sigh.

Mark raises his eyebrows at you when you finish telling him your dream. “You’re scared because you had a wet dream? Damn, I’d be living in a nightmare if I was scared after every wet dream I’ve had.”

You kick him under the table. “Mark! It was really scary. He told me he was going to take my soul!”

Upon seeing that you’re actually freaked out, his face softens. “Look, y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You probably just thought that he was hot, and your brain remembered his face and put it in a dream. I wouldn’t worry about it; what’s the worst he’s gonna do, haunt you?”

You give a shaky nod, agreeing. It’s not like something from your dreams could actually harm you. Mark reaches across the desk, taking your hand in his and giving a tight squeeze, warm brown eyes gazing at you openly. “And if something does happen, just remember that I’m your best friend. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks, Mark. Means a lot to me.”

He leans back in his seat. “Anytime, anyplace, anything. Triple A.”

You smile, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?”

His eyes go wide, taking in the glint in your eyes. “Within reason.”

“How about a sip of coffee?” You nod down at his cup, pasting a huge smile on your face.

“I did say within reason, so no.”

You huff. “I expected that.”

Although you don’t scare easily, it’s safe to say that you’re a bit unsettled tonight, especially after your nightmare last night. You find yourself jumping at every little noise, hand slamming the light switch on with your pulse racing every five minutes. This has been going on for an hour, and after a final sweep of your room reveals nothing, you decide that maybe a face mask will help you relax.

Your bathroom has two mirrors facing each other, which is normally a blessing when you do your hair, but tonight it does nothing but make you want to hide under your blankets.

Get a grip on yourself, you chastise, grabbing your phone and opening spotify. Maybe some music will help? You click on your Christmas playlist because what better way to cheer up than to think about your favorite holiday?

A mistake, really, because it seems that you’ve forgotten how creepy Santa is.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” Yikes. You stop that song in a hurry, feeling anything but comforted. No music then, noted.

You reach for your face wash, turning the sink on and waiting for the water to warm. You can’t help but glance in the mirror behind you every so often, paranoia getting the best of you. Man, you feel pathetic, worrying about monsters in your closet like you’re six and not twenty-six.

You wash your face quickly, hoping that your fears will wash away as well. No such luck.

You swear you see something move behind you after you dry your face off, but there’s nothing there. Shaking it off, you reach for your face mask, taking your time painting your face with the green clay.

It’s after your face is coated that you spot someone in the glass behind you. You scream, whipping around to come face to face with a man. Not just any man- Jaehyun.

Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes widening in fear. He seems to be in the mirror, copying your petrified expression mockingly.

“Hello, little bird.” He purrs, smirking lightly.

“Are you- are you in my mirror?” You’re in disbelief, mind struggling to comprehend this. First you spot him while in a weird trance, then in a dream, and now in your mirror? Maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis.

“No, I am not. Mirrors are just gateways to alternate dimensions. I’m merely using the mirror to visit you.” He says this like it’s common knowledge. It feels like your throat is made of sandpaper with how hard it is to choke out your words. “O-okay. I’m just gonna- yeah.”

You grab your phone from the counter and bolt, fumbling for your keys before jumping into your car and speeding off in the direction of Mark’s house. You call him, fingers fumbling on the screen. He goes to voicemail the first time, and your heart drops. “No, no, no,” you whisper frantically, calling again. He does pick up this time.

“Y/n? It’s the middle of the night.” His voice sounds gruff, and you feel guilty for waking him up. One glance in your rear view mirror reveals that Jaehyun is joining you on this ride, and you scream, car swerving violently to one side before you straighten it out.

“Where are we going, little bird?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice has lost its sleepy edge, taking on a concerned tone. He says your name again, more frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your tires squeal as you make a turn, now only two blocks away. “Can I- can I come over? I really need to be with someone right now.”

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome. The door’s unlocked.”

You hang up, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over. Finally arriving, you slam on the breaks and haphazardly pull next to a curb, yanking the key out of the ignition and sprinting to Mark’s house.

You lock the door behind you when you step inside, testing the handle as if a door could stop a mirror traveling demon or whatever the fuck Jaehyun was from coming inside. “Mirrors,” you mumble, reaching the stairs.

“Y/n? What’s-” Mark stands at the top of the stairs, one hand rubbing at his eyes. You cut him off, flying up the stairs.

“Mirrors, fuck. Mark, we need to cover the mirrors!” You breeze by his shocked figure, not noticing the way he turns to stare at you incredulously.

“What, why? Y/n, are you crazy?”

Ignoring him, you throw a towel over the mirror in his bathroom, ripping open a pack of bandaids to use as adhesive.

You throw another towel over the mirror in his bedroom, collapsing on his bed when you’re done and finally allowing yourself to sob.

“Y/n, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Mark, as gentle and caring as ever, comes over to sit next to you, one hand combing through your hair.

“I- don’t laugh at me.” You stare him straight in the eye, pleading with him. You know you’re going to sound crazy, but you’re praying that your best friend listens to you. He nods, urging you to go on.

“That- that man I saw in my dream and during whatever fucked up game Hyuck had us play? He was in my fucking mirror, Mark. I- the whole night, I had this feeling that I was being watched, and then I went into my bathroom and he was just there, and-” You’re hyperventilating at this point, fighting for every breath, tears clouding your vision. “He was in my car, in the rear view mirror-” Mark pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms and allowing you to sob loudly into his chest. You cry for a few minutes, until you’re finally able to pull yourself together.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’ve had a rough week, I know. It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He wipes a tear away from your check, patting you lightly. “Why don’t you go wash this off, okay? We can watch a movie after.” He offers, and until that point, you’d forgotten you were wearing a face mask. You grimace at the green imprint on his black shirt, but he just chuckles. “I’ll go grab you some water in the meantime.”

Nodding, you garner up the energy to walk to his bathroom. It’s fine, the mirror’s covered, he can’t hurt you. You close the door just in case, wanting an extra level of protection

You rinse your face with cold water, hoping that it will clear your mind. You give your face a couple more splashes before drying off with a towel.

“You missed a spot on your forehead.” You freeze before looking around wildly. There’s no one around, which can only mean that Jaehyun can still see you. Swallowing, you start the water again, rubbing at your forehead.

“And your left cheek.” You rub at the skin, being way too harsh but you excuse it considering your situation. “No, your other left. My left.”

“Jesus,” You growl in annoyance, reaching up to rip the towel down. Sure enough, there’s a splotch of green on your cheek. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I am losing my mind.

You finish rinsing the mask off, finding some face lotion buried in Mark’s drawer, screaming bloody murder when Jaehyun appears in the mirror again. “Looking for me?”

“No! Leave me alone!” You cry, head spinning. Jaehyun fakes a pout, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Do demons even have hearts?

“Ouch, little bird. You don’t want to finish what we started the other night? When I had you moaning so pretty, so wet for me. I’m sure your pussy would take me so well, hmm?” Your heart rate kicks up again, but for a different reason this time. You almost moan, thinking about the dream.

Because he was right, you had been so wet. The want comes back full forces, slamming into you like a truck. You remember how needy you were, wanting to suck his cock so bad, wanting him to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. All fear that you previously had is slowly disappearing, fading into lust.

The demon smiles knowingly. “Ah, little bird, so you do remember. Remember how you promised me that you’re mine?”

You nod, eyes glazing over. You’re wet, panties starting to stick to your throbbing core uncomfortably.

“Mmmh, I bet you’re already dripping for me. Just waiting for me to come out and fill you up.”

Hearing your name leave his lips sends a wave of arousal crashing through you so strong that your knees buckle, grabbing onto the counter for support. He chuckles, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mark.

“What were you say-” Your best friend trails off, eyes wide as he observes the scene. You snap out of your haze at the interruption. His mouth parts in shock. “You really weren’t kidding, shit.” He laughs humorlessly.

Then, quick as lightning, he rears back and punches the mirror. You scream in surprise at the crack, shards falling to the floor.

You and Mark both stare at the broken shards of glass on the ground, gleaming under the lights. “Mark,” You start, trailing off once you realize you have nothing to say. He seems to understand, walking forward until he’s close enough to pull you into a hug. You feel tears start to slide down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of your best friends shirt. You hug him closer, burying your face into his broad chest. He wraps himself around you, and you let yourself be lulled into the sense of security that his larger frame brings you. A sense of security that vanishes once you hear a low chuckle that definitely does not belong to Mark.

You both scream, leaping backwards and away from the noise. Jaehyun stands there, just in front of the door, with a shit eating grin on his face. You cower behind Mark, who is wrapping a protective arm around you while simultaneously trying to hide behind you.

“I really must thank you for finally setting me free. Normally I have to wait for some asshole with a ouija board, but then there’s just so many other demons that I have to compete with. So I just stick to the dream world-” He pauses to wink at you for emphasis “-but this is so much more fun.” His eyes are black, and you can’t tell where he’s looking. Swallowing, you clutch onto Mark’s arm for dear life.

The demon seems to regard the two of you for a moment, before his amusement seems to grow. He begins to move forward.

“Ah, Mark Lee. Lovely name for a stupid boy. Didn’t you know breaking a mirror is bad luck?” By this point, you and Mark are flattened against the wall, while Jaehyun stands less than a foot away from the two of you. There’s nowhere to run. This is it, you think, this is how I die.

Jaehyun chuckles, turning to you. You lower your gaze to the ground; it hurts to make eye contact with him. “No, little bird. This isn’t how you die, don’t worry.”

Then he’s backing away from the two of you, motioning to follow him. The logical part of your brain is screaming not to, but you find yourself drawn to him, legs carrying you after him without your consent, Mark clutching your arm tightly as he walks next to you.

Jaehyun seems to know the layout of the house, leading you straight into Mark’s bedroom. The demon grabs a chair from the desk and spins it around, straddling it so that he’s facing the bed.

He motions lazily. “Go on now, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

You find yourself sitting down on the edge of the bed, following his words like marching orders. Mark sits about half a foot away from you. Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I said to get comfortable, did I not?” He raises an eyebrow as if daring you to argue with him. “Go lay down at the head board.”

You crawl to the head of the bed, settling so that you’re on your side, facing the demon. Mark follows suit, pulling you close to him so that you’re spooning. Jaehyun lets out a pleased hum. “Much better. Aren’t you much more comfortable now?” Nodding, you realize that you actually are more comfortable. It’s not just the change of position, but the energy in the room as well. The demon is no longer giving off a threatening aura. It’s more relaxed, maybe even happy? He certainly looks more relaxed, probably as happy as a demon can get, if not a little smug.

Your body is pulsing with energy, and it takes you a moment to place what you’re feeling. The earlier need to run that you had felt has been replaced with another need, albeit further down. Your thighs clench as another surge of heat pulses through your core, and your face warms at the realization. Why now, of all times, are you horny?

Jaehyun’s grin broadens as he seems to sense your dilemma. “Oh, little bird, if only you knew. Tell me, what type of demon do you think I am?” He watches you curiously, black eyes staring into your soul.

You try to tilt your head towards Mark, but the position’s too awkward and you only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He looks a bit flushed from what you can see, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, teeth that you could easily replace with your own- you blink, dazedly. What the fuck? Sexual thoughts about your best friend? That’s a new one. Even if you’ve noticed that he’s hot, you’d never thought about him sexually. Now, though, you can feel the hardness of his dick against your ass, and you can’t help but think about how good he could fuck you.

“Incubus,” You finally manage, blinking rapidly to clear the haze of your vision. Jaehyun grins, looking genuinely surprised that you’d gotten it right.

“Good girl. Make a little sense now?” You nod, fighting a moan as Mark starts to rock against you, slowly, as if he’s unconsciously doing it. Jaehyun notices.

“How about you, Mark? You doing alright over there?”

Your friend, your best friend, buries his face in your neck and groans, deep and delicious. It sends another surge of heat through your body, the growing need between your legs pulsing pathetically. “What are you doing to us?” The words are growled behind you, vibrating against the skin where his lips are pressed.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m not doing anything to you. The only thing I can do to you is make you realize your desires. Your deepest, darkest fantasies? I make that happen. Finally being able to fuck the girl you’ve been in love with for years? I make that happen.” The words take a minute to register with you, but you stiffen when the meaning hits you. Mark Lee, in love with you? An unlikely story, bordering impossible.

The demon chuckles at your inner turmoil, rolling his eyes at how dumb humans can be. “You too, y/n. You love Mark, even if you won’t admit it. You let the idea that he was too good for you scare you away from him. Do you not remember how often you thought of him, late at night after first meeting him?”

You groan in protest, not because it’s not true, but because you do remember. It had been so long ago. When you hadn’t known Mark, had only known of him. You pull away from Mark, awkwardly pushing him to lay flat against the pillows while you clamber on top of him.

“Mark, is it true? Do you love me?” You hold his face between your hands, staring into his eyes. He meets your gaze, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. He nods as best he can.

“So, so much.” Mark’s voice comes out raspy, matching his flushed skin. You lean down to kiss him, uncaring of the other presence in the room. Mark moans when your lips make contact, hands pulling you to straddle him. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his clothed cock against your center, rocking your hips to try to ease the throb of your core. His hands fly to your ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh as he urges you into a harsher pace.

The kiss is rougher, needier now, open mouthed and panting. Mark’s got his tongue tangled with yours, sucking in such a way that sends waves of heat through you. You want him in you, any part of him really.

Jaehyun seems to agree, speaking up from right next to you. You jump, having forgotten he was there although he’s the reason you’re like this in the first place.

“Let’s get the show on the road. As much as I’m enjoying this, I think we’d all enjoy something else a little more.” The demon reaches for the hem of your shirt and you nod, raising your arms above your head to let him pull the garment off. Mark groans at the newly revealed skin, hands going to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Fuck,” He whines, staring in awe at your chest. He doesn’t waste time before leaning up to kiss along your cleavage, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts. Another set of hands unclasp the bra before traveling down your torso to rub circles into your hip bones, sliding your sleeping shorts and panties off at the same time. Jaehyun throws the shorts somewhere off the bed. He keeps the panties, a pleased sigh leaving him as he appreciates the ruined fabric.

“Fuck, little bird. You’re really enjoying this,” He comments, as if he isn’t a fucking lust demon that can sense these kinds of things. You don’t voice your thoughts, because Mark chooses this moment to suck a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin so that all you can do is moan. “You’ve even ruined your panties. They’re soaked.”

He hands the strip of lace to Mark, who lets out a throaty groan at the sight. “You’re not getting these back.” He informs you, slipping the garment into his bedside drawer. You ignore him, instead tugging insistently at his shirt. He takes pity on you, grabbing the collar and yanking the baggy tee over his head.

You let your hands slide down his chest in admiration, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. You lick your lips at how broad his shoulders are, how strong he looks. Jaehyun doesn’t give you much time to enjoy the view, gliding two fingers along your slit before circling around your little nub. A cry of pleasure leaves you to mindlessly press your face into Mark’s collarbone, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re sure you’ve left a bruise.

Jaehyun slips the two fingers into your aching core, curling and dragging them so well along your walls. Sparks of electricity flow through your veins, heat pooling in your center.

Mark groans from below you. Looking down, you see that you’ve unconsciously dug your nails into his hard chest in an effort to ground yourself. You remove your hands, only to spot little red half crescents littered over his skin. You rub your palms over the marks as if to soothe them, but it seems that the man wasn’t groaning from pain.

“Y/n” He sounds so fucked out, voice hoarse and raw even though hardly anything has happened yet. “You look so good like this, so perfect for me.” He brings one large hand up to cup your cheek, thumb delicately stroking over your cheekbone before moving down to trace your lower lip. You part your lips, letting him slide in before sucking around the digit, tongue curling around it as if it were his cock. His eyes darken a fraction, tongue coming out to wet his lips, swollen and kiss bitten.

You moan around the digit as Jaehyun adds a third finger, stretching your walls so pleasantly that you can’t help but buck your hips back for more. A whine forces its way out of your throat as the demon pulls his fingers out of you, leaving an empty ache between your thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be more fun if she was sucking on something a bit bigger than your finger, Mark?” The voice startles you, breath tickling your ear as he speaks. The man under you nods, swallowing thickly. Your eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement, and a gush of wetness pulses down below. Your thighs are probably covered in your arousal at this point.

You scoot down his body, trailing kisses and bites down his toned stomach. You take your time unzipping his pants, sucking a mark into the soft skin below his navel. He’s hard as a rock, and you moan in appreciation at the sheer size of him once you shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask, mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. “No, ‘s too restricting.”

You lazily pump his dick, thumb flicking over the tip once or twice. You plan to tease him more, but then Jaehyun’s pushing your head down and you have no choice but to open your mouth wide, innocent eyes peeking up at Mark as you take his cock in your mouth. He’s so big that you can’t take him in all the way, keeping one hand curled around his cock to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. You let it get sloppy, using your spit to ease the glide until you’ve got a pleasant rhythm going. Mark replaces Jaehyun’s hands with his own, gathering strands of your hair in his palms and using that grip to control your pace. “F-fuck,” He lets out a shaky exhale, letting his head fall back against the pillows once he’s satisfied with the pace.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, a loud smack sounding throughout the room. You moan, pitching forward onto Mark’s cock and gagging as he hits the back of your throat. A strangled cry leaves the man above you, his hips thrusting even further into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

The demon kneads your stinging flesh before using his grip on you to pull your hips up. “Good girl,” You keen under his praises, sticking your ass up even higher. The warm, wet pressure against your center has you faltering, moaning almost violently around Mark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be having any complaints, the vibrations forcing a moan of his own out.

Your eyes roll up into your head as Jaehyun wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You’re sure you’d be screaming by now if Mark’s cock wasn’t halfway down your throat. You’ve given up sucking him off by this point, content to let the man fuck your mouth while Jaehyun sucks your fucking soul out from between your legs. It feels so good, not used to being the center of even one man’s focus, let alone two.

Mark eases you off of his cock after you accidentally bite him, using your spit to ease the slide as he lazily fucks up into his loose fist. You rest your head on his thigh, alternating between moaning wantonly and mouthing messily against the skin as you feel your orgasm approach.

Jaehyun pulls away at the last second, and you whine loudly as your orgasm is cut off. The feeling of frustration leaves you close to tears, and you jiggle your ass in hopes that it will regain his attention. It does momentarily, as Jaehyun lands a harsh smack on the flesh, but he pulls away again.

“Mark,” The man in question looks up, hand freezing on his dick as if waiting for Jaehyun’s orders. And fuck, what a sight that would be: your normally brash and confident friend being so pliant and submissive to a near stranger… You blink out of it, feeling mildly ashamed even in your current state. Luckily, Jaehyun interrupts your thoughts. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go first. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, anyway.”

Mark nods eagerly, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You paw at every inch of skin you can reach, searching for a release from the ache inside of you. Your wish is granted when he hooks two fingers in your soaking cunt, groaning at how wet you are. He scissors you open quickly, hissing at how tight you feel.

“Ready, angel? Want my cock?” The pet name has you moaning, though it draws a low chuckle from Jaehyun, who’s watching from his position next to Mark.

“Hurry up, already. Need you in me, ‘ve waited so long.”

Mark lights up at this, smile stretching his features. He looks so breathtaking in this moment, skin glowing and flushed, hair mussed up, eyes blown wide and half lidded.

“I’m yours,” He breathes, leaning up for one last kiss. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you forward so that you’re hovering above his thick cock. “Ride me baby.”

“I’d love to.” Reaching one hand down to position him at your entrance, you start to lower yourself down. Of course, Jaehyun chooses this exact moment to stop you. He truly is the spawn of Satan.

“Little bird, hold on just a second. I found something of interest in the back of Markie’s brain.” You cringe as he mocks your earlier nickname for the man. “What’s this I’m seeing, Mark? You like it up the ass?” His tone is teasing, but Mark groans in embarrassment. His face has gone an alarming shade of red by this point. “N-no,” He tries to deny, sputtering excuses but Jaehyun cuts him off with a press of a finger to his lips. “Oh, Mark, don’t get shy on me now. It’s a perfectly fine thing to like. Little bird, you’ll get your turn in a minute. You,” He snaps his fingers at Mark. “Come here. Kneel up, just like that. Perfect.” He appraises Mark’s ass for a moment, hands moulding the flesh before slipping a finger in. Mark’s eyebrows furrow, and you shoot up in alarm. “Doesn’t he need lube?”

Jaehyun looks at you, surprised that you care, before chuckling. “I can produce lube. Perks of being a lust demon.” Winking at you, he returns his focus to Mark. You can’t see what he’s doing, but the pure pleasure present on your best friends face has you clenching your thighs together, waves of need crashing through you. If you thought he looked good before, he looks absolutely gone now. Breathless groans are leaving him now, eyelids fighting to stay open as he sinks down on the others fingers. You watch him, mesmerized, before shuffling over to him.

“How close are you?”

He forces his gaze down to you. “Kind of- nngh- close, w-why?”

Wrapping a hand around his base lightly, you start stroking. “Will you come if I blow you?”

He moans, a punched out sound that takes you by surprise. “Fuck, yes, I’ll definitely come if you blow me.” You pout in disappointment. Upon seeing your crestfallen expression, he continues. “Maybe we c-can- oh, yes- figure something out. Jaehyun,” He turns his head back behind him, struggling to get the words out between moans. “Can I eat y/n out?”

There’s just something so hot about Mark asking for permission from someone else that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. Jaehyun must nod, because then you’re being laid back, Mark settling between your thighs. He’s sucking sweet kisses into your core almost immediately, pulling your legs over his shoulders to give him better access. You’re letting out sharp cries of pleasure the whole time, eyes fighting the urge to roll back in your head in favor of watching Mark between your legs. A particularly well placed flick of his tongue has your hips rolling against his face, grasping the sheets in your hand as your mind blanks. The pleasure climbing through your system is insane, threatening to burn you from the inside out.

It only gets better once Mark starts moaning, his sinful mouth sending sweet vibrations traveling up your core. You manage to catch sight of Jaehyun behind him, kissing wetly along his shoulders and neck, features curving into a smirk once he notices you watching him.

“Little bird likes this, hmm? Like watching another man pleasure your boyfriend while he pleases you?” You hum, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze, unable to even think, letting his boyfriend comment slide. Whereas before it hurt to look directly into his eyes, you now find yourself getting lost in his dark orbs. It’s like a drug, your pleasure being amplified by the man, demon, whatever in front of you.

You finally break eye contact, head falling back against the mattress as Mark draws you closer and closer to your peak. Burying one hand in his hair, you use the leverage to grind your core against his face, chasing your sweet release. “C-close, Mark, please-” You don’t know what you’re begging for at this point. It’s too much but not enough at the same time. Jaehyun saves you from having to decide by cruelly ripping your orgasm away from you, again, dragging Mark’s face away from your pussy.

A few tears slip down your face at this point, frustration reaching its peak. Jaehyun wipes the tears away, laughing lowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire soon.”

He must pull out of Mark, because your friend whimpers before seeming to realize what he just did and clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Mark, would you like to fuck our little bird now?” Mark nods, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

Jaehyun smirks. “Good. On your back. Y/n, ride him.” You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble onto your knees, wasting no time in straddling Mark before dropping yourself down on him. You both moan in satisfaction, you at finally being filled and Mark at your tightness. You have to brace both hands on his chest, almost collapsing at the overwhelming relief you feel. Beyond the burn of the stretch, his cock filling you up so nicely, there’s a sweet pleasure, a satisfaction.

You don’t wait very long to adjust, grinding your hips in smooth circles before lifting yourself off of him and dropping yourself back down. You quickly start a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock, eyes rolling at how fucking big he feels in you.

Mark’s hands are locked in a vice grip on your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and using his grip to urge you into a faster pace.

Jaehyun decides to join, coming up behind you to kiss at your neck, one hand reaching up to your mouth. “Suck,” He commands, slipping two fingers past your willing lips. You do, hollowing your cheeks and slurping around the digits, wishing that it was his dick. He hums behind you, bringing the wet digits down to your entrance, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fast circles into the little nub. You moan even louder now, feeling yourself speed towards your climax. You’ve been on edge for too long, you can’t hold on anymore.

“You close, little bird? Going to come on Mark’s cock? Gonna make him fill you up, pound into that dirty cunt?” His words get to you, your head falling back against his shoulder once more.

“Yes, yes! Oh, please, please-” He cuts off your mindless rambling by pulling you in for a kiss, one that you melt into. This is the first time he’s kissed you, and you’re quite upset that you hadn’t kissed him earlier. It’s a hot kiss, lots of tongue and teeth. It heightens your pleasure immensely, and you can’t stop kissing him. You suck on his tongue filthily, and oh, he must like that if the resulting groan is anything to go by. Even when he goes to pull away, you won’t let him, one hand fisting in his hair to keep him close. He seems to be speeding up your release, if that were even possible. Your mind feels hazier now, every sensation heightened, core screaming for release. You feel your orgasm twisting painfully at your insides, pulsing before finally exploding. The intensity of it rips a scream out of your throat, nails scratching across Mark’s chest as Jaehyun licks even deeper into your mouth, drinking up the noises you make.

When you come down, Mark is still thrusting desperately up into you, though he stops at the demons command. “From behind,” You hear Jaehyun say, but everything’s hazy at this point. Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, and it’s like watching through a screen. Like you’re high, though you hadn’t had anything the whole day.

Mark manhandles you into position, hands and knees with your ass raised high in the air. He leaves one gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before relentlessly pounding into you, cock hitting even deeper in this position. Jaehyun kneels in front of you, pulling your face in towards his cock. You moan around him as he slips inside, mouth not quite burning at the stretch like Mark, though the demon still has you gagging. His cock has the same effect on you as his kisses did, and you feel addicted. You’re slurping and sucking and moaning around him, not wanting the intense pleasure to stop. You barely hear the kissing above you, taking far too long to register that Jaehyun has pulled Mark into a messy kiss above you. The image has you moaning even more wantonly, ass pushing back against Mark.

The kiss seems to have a similar effect on the man, because then he’s slamming into you at an even more relentless rate, moans higher and more frequent before he’s coming with a shout, finally filling you up. Your core pulses again at the feeling, and you suck at Jaehyun’s dick with renewed vigor. His hands fist in your hair, keeping you still so that he can fuck your mouth as hard as he wants. You relish in the feeling of your throat being fucked raw, spit dripping out of your mouth and down his cock. He lets out a deep groan, hips slamming deep one last time as he finishes. His cum seems to ignite a fire within you, because you’re coming almost simultaneously with him, despite not even being touched.

You collapse afterwards, dragging yourself to Mark and letting him drape himself over you. You let yourself drift off to sleep, sated and still riding the high.

The demon kisses each of you one last time, drinking in the last remaining parts of your soul, watching as the two humans take their last breaths. “Thanks for the meal, lovelies.” He chuckles, petting your head almost affectionately before walking out into the night sky, not sparing a single glance back.

#mark smut #mark lee smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #super m smut #nct u smut #gonna delete any asks abt bts or the old blog so pls dont send any lol #not for bad reasons or anythnig i just dont have anything to say abt them #ummm ok i did edit this but it was originally jin and hoseok so if you see their names that's an accident my b #anyways enjoy kdjsnfj

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shortracha · 2 years

Text

Bad Days

Summary: Peter’s romantic partner, lovingly nicknamed Sunshine, has a really rough day and he comforts her.

Pairing: College!Peter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I don’t really think anything but as always, read at your own risk buddy (she does curse like twice)

Word Count: 1,357 (she’s a baby)

A/N: So I’ve never written an x reader before so obviously it’s a little rough around the edges, but it made me feel better after a rough week so I hope you like it, also the Peter you choose to imagine doesn’t matter so have fun

After struggling for near a full minute trying to get the door open, dropping her keys an incredible four times, and just about kicking the door in, she stumbles inside and flings her bag to the floor not two feet in the threshold. The door slams shut behind her, her foot a little more forceful than she meant, but there it is. Another few steps, and she’s at the couch, throwing herself face-first into the soft decorative pillows set atop the grey cushions. She lays there, deadly still, for several seconds before she flips over onto her back but holds the pad to her face. She lets out a scream into the fluffy white square, prompting a familiar voice to pipe up from across the hall.

“Rough day?” Peter pops his head out of the bedroom doorway.

“You have no idea, Bug.” His partner’s voice is a bit muffled by the pillow still smothering her, but Peter can make it out well enough. “Everything that could have gone wrong today absolutely did. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep for five days straight.” She pauses.

“Tell me what happened, Sunshine!” He calls out to her from the other room, and Sunshine takes that as her cue to begin ranting about her day, starting with spilling her lemon tea all over her new shirt just as she was leaving this morning, pillow securely held over her eyes.

Her blocked view keeps her from noticing Peter approaching, and she nearly jumps off the couch in surprise when his hand grabs hers to take the pillow from her gently. He doesn’t say anything, just bends her legs to create a spot on the sofa and replaces the empty space with his own body. Once seated, she lays her legs across his lap, never skipping a beat in her sound-off about the ‘day from hell’.

“...And do you know the worst part? I was three minutes late to my exam today, and Professor Stallings had locked the door! Three! Minutes! Late!” At this point, Sunshine’s eyes start to well up, and Peter can tell she’s about to lose it. “Can you believe that shit! I need to do well in this class; I can’t afford to fuck this u-”

“Hey, you’re okay. C’mere.” He takes her hand in his, delicately pulling her up into a sitting position and his arms. He wraps one around her middle, and the other pulls her hair from her face and lays it on her back. Peter shifts his partner to sit in his lap so he can hold her better, and the second both of his hands connect behind her back, Sunshine slots her face in his neck and begins to outright sob. Peter softly rocks back and forth, murmuring quiet encouragements to his partner but not trying to stop anything.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you…Everything is gonna be alright. Just let it out…I’m right here, shhh, I’m here…”

They sit there for several minutes, Sunshine crying and Peter rocking and rubbing her back in a large circle while fully letting her frustration with the day out. Once the cry starts to lose momentum, Peter places a kiss on the top of her head. She manages to calm herself down enough to wipe her eyes and look up at him, where he’s waiting to give her another kiss, this time on her forehead. She sits up straight, still crying but not nearly the same as the previous moments.

“Hey, look at me,” Her eyes lift to meet his, and he wipes away an excess tear from her cheek, almost caressing her face while she tries to get ahold of herself. “I need you to breathe with me, and then we’ll decide what to do next, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?” She sniffles in response. Peter releases a breathy chuckle and begins to lift his shoulders and suck in a loud, exaggerated breath. Sunshine follows suit a little more modestly.

Together, they take three long, deep breaths. “In for 4, hold 3, out 7…In 4, hold 3, out 7...One more, in 4..hold it, 1, 2, 3, breathe out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…There you go. Are you feeling any better?”

Sunshine smiles for the first time since…probably leaving for class this morning. It’s small, but Peter takes that as a win. She nods, leaning forward to give Peter a soft and loving kiss. It’s far too short a time before Peter breaks it off, though.

She pouts. “Not enough.” She juts her bottom lip out in protest.

He laughs again. “Not enough?” He leans back in, both hands lift to hold her in place, and he pecks her forehead, nose, cheek, nose again, anywhere his lips can reach in the hope he hears his favourite sound in the world: Sunshine’s laugh. “Are you sure?” He teases her, and she giggles and tries to squirm away; his kisses tickle her face. She pushes against his chest to lean back, but Peter’s grip on her face is just firm enough that she can’t escape. While he continues his assault on her soft skin, his smile grows each time his lips reach her face.

“Okay, okay! Enough!” She’s evolved to a fuller laugh, and only now Peter is content. His hands drop from her face, and hers raise in return to reach around and play with the hair that sits on the nape of his neck.

“One more, a real one this time, I promise.” Their lips connect again. This time it’s a little more…enthusiastic on her part. If she had to be honest, she was not the biggest fan of physicality in most capacities. Still, she’d be damned if she didn’t admit she had a particular inclination toward Peter’s sweet and surprisingly soft lips. His kisses make her dizzy, they make her mind go fuzzy, and she absolutely loves it.

They both lose count of how long they sit there in their moment, and by the time she breaks away, she’s completely forgotten about her shitty day, and all Sunshine wants to do is keep kissing and kissing him until she can’t breathe.

“Better?” He knows the answer, but he wants to hear her say it.

“Much.” Her answer is very matter-of-fact as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It sort of is, to be fair.

“Great, come with me then.” Peter slides his hand under her ass and lifts her as he stands. Sunshine wraps her legs around his waist, and he walks them into their bedroom. After tossing her onto the bed, he slides in beside her. She cuddles up to him, turning on the tv.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But, I do think I can guarantee the rest of your night will be much better.” He offers her an overly enthusiastic wink, and she rolls her eyes in response.

“Can we eat dinner in bed and watch a movie?” Sunshine’s voice perks up, eyes watching Peter’s for a reaction. Peter doesn’t respond right away, and he takes a moment to contemplate. He is not a fan of food in the bedroom; spidey-sense and crumbs don’t mix. But, it’s hard to tell his partner no after the events she relayed to him today. Although, Peter rarely said no to anything his partner wanted. Part of it is the guilt for constantly leaving to Spider-Man, part of it just loves the way she lights up when she gets what she wants. So-

“Sure thing, Sunshine. I’ll make something that’s not so messy.” Satisfied with his answer, she pecks his cheek as a thank you and changes the input to their streaming and begins scrolling for a specific title.

“Let me guess, Clue?”

It’s not really a guess. Clue has always been Sunshine’s comfort movie. In fact, she has always loved all things Tim Curry. Peter had never seen most of his films before they met, but one snowed-in weekend later, and he was well versed in the TCCU (Tim Curry Cinematic Universe).

“You know me well, Bug Boy.”

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #x reader #spiderman #peter parker fluff #spiderman fluff #fluff #peter parker fic #spiderman fic #peter parker fanfic #mcu spiderman #tasm peter parker #mcu peter parker #tobey peter parker #tom peter parker #andrew peter parker #college!peter #college!peter parker #bad days

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rezzyromance · 3 years

Note

hihi may i request a heisenburg x reader comfort fic? reader is feeling deppressed or something and karl and reader just cuddle or something

I need this right now. Where's MY big, crusty, greasy, metal hobo man?

(CW: mentions and descriptions of depression based on my own personal experiences.)

The bed felt like it was consuming you at this point. You barely left it all week, and hadn't left it at all today. Your heavy body only had a slight feeling of piece when you lay curled up in the bed no matter the time of day. All of the lights were off and you were left alone with your thoughts. A feeling of numbness consumed you, yet you ached at the same time. How could someone feel so numb but so in pain at the same time? The question had been taunting you recently as every day made you feel more and more useless.

The self isolation you had put yourself through was only making things worse. You live in the factory with Karl but you haven't seen him since you've started staying in your room more often. He's so occupied with work that he hasn't really noticed your absence.

Well, it was bugging him in the back of his head. Something didn't feel right and he knew it, he just couldn't put a finger on what. It was actually a bit distracting. He didn't realize what was wrong until he was journaling. When he writes in his journal, it's one of the few moments he has where his emotions become somewhat known to him. He barely knows what he's writing until he rereads it. He just lets his mind take over as he writes. He was rereading his most recent journal and the last sentence made him pause.

'I haven't seen (Y/N) in a bit. I wonder where they're at."

"Damn.... I'm stupid...", he mumbled to himself. "How could I have been so oblivious?", he groaned and rubbed his forehead before setting his journal down. He expected the worst as he roamed the living areas of the factory in hopes to find you. "I bet they're pissed. I bet they hate me now.", his mind was clouded with negative thoughts.

He twisted the doorknob to your room, hoping you'll be there with a smile on your face. That smile that warms his heart so much and makes him feel like he's worth something. Instead, he was greeted with you laying on the bed with your back facing him. "Yep. Pissed.", he thought.

"Hey.. you awake?", he asked in an almost-whisper. He wasn't aware of what time it currently is, but the fact that you were in the bed with the lights off made him assume it's probably late. "Yeah.", you respond. "I'm awake." There was no emotions behind your words. You sounded so tired, but not a normal, groggy and sleepy type of tired. Like an exhausted and pained type of tired.

"Were you sleeping?", he asks. "No."

He inhales deeply through his nose as he tries to asses what's wrong. "I know you're mad at me. And you have every right to be.", he starts off. His words confuse you. You weren't mad. You've felt this way for a long time, but having Karl around helped you keep your chin up and tuck the bad feelings away. It wasn't until he became super occupied with his work that the feelings came rushing back. You were left with nothing to help distract you from the negativity that had been brewing inside of you for so long.

"I'm not mad.", you say, still without moving from your spot. "You're not?", he sounded genuinely shocked. "No." "I just haven't really checked on you or paid any attention to you recently. I know you must feel like I forgot about you completely." His words made you feel bad even though there was no reason for them to do so. "I'm sorry.", you say. He cocks his head to the side in confusion. "What? Why are you sorry?", he asks as he walks over to where you were laying.

Suddenly, you feel small. So small. You feel your eyes sting at the threat of tears. "I..", your voice shakes a little. "I don't know..", you can't help but sigh. Karl isn't the most empathetic person, but seeing you this way made him feel a type of way he has never felt before. He could tell you were upset, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to help, but he had no idea how. He had no past experience or even an example from his life where he figured out how to comfort someone that is sad.

"You look tired. You should rest.", is what he said. What his words really meant where "I recognize your emotions and I understand completely. Please, take care of yourself.",

He crawls into the bed and lays beside you. "Tell me..", he begins to talk and hesitates slightly, unsure of what to say. "What's got you so exhausted?", he says. He continues to use words like "tired" and "exhausted" as replacements for "depressed", but you both know what he really means. His words cause a sharp pain in your throat. You wanted to cry so badly but kept it in. "I don't know. I'm just....", you can't help but let a few tears fall. "I'm so tired." Even though there is an absence of light in the room, he can tell you're crying.

He swallows awkwardly, thinking of what to do next. He takes a deep breath and places his hand on your arm. He can feel you shaking beneath him as you quietly cry. Something in him feels like it breaks a little, but something else in him grows. A passion for protecting. A need to keep you safe. It fuels him in the moment as he pulls your body into his. He was still fully clothed with his work shirt, pants, and even boots, but he didn't want to waste a second removing his clothes when he could be holding you close. You're his number one priority.

You clutch the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you fight back the tears. "It's okay.", he says as he rubs your back in attempts to soothe you. "You're okay.", he kisses your forehead and lets you cry out what you've been holding back for so long.

Once you're done, you feel a little embarrassed and unsure of how he feels. But, he still holds you tightly to his body. He rubs circles in your back with his calloused thumb.

"It's okay to feel bad. That's probably a dumb thing to say.. but it's true. It's okay to be pissed off and sad. Just, try to remember that you're so much more than what you feel.", for a moment, his words actually sound wise and it surprises himself. "Promise you'll try and remember?", he asks. "I promise.", you sniffle. "Good. I'm gonna shut up before I say something stupid while trying to sound smart." His words make you giggle which lights up his face and heart. A wave of relief washes over him and he continues to hold you.

Now, you're no longer alone in the bed with you're thoughts. Sure, they're still there. But you're not alone. And as long as Karl's around he'll make sure you never go through them alone again.

#re8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg headcanon #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg angst #karl hesienberg

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Realignment

Prompt: I love when Remus is a lot smarter than he lets on, so I’d love a prompt where Logan is overworking himself and not taking care of himself and one tic of the clock away from either passing out or having a full on mental breakdown (not the type you can recover from in a day). Remus notices the little signs Logan shows, and hears the intrusive thoughts Logan has. Remus really becomes concerned when Logan’s intrusive thoughts start to involve taking breaks, going to eat properly rather than inhaling granola bars, and even sleeping. Remus storms in and is like “Logan tf????” Then gets hella soft once he realizes the state Logan is in

Thank you for the prompts, babe! I liked this one the best so I picked it.

GUYS PLEASE VIEW THIS AS A C H E C K P O I N T if you've been scrolling for a while (and you probably have) pause here! drink water! get food! walk around the room for a little bit! stretch! do something please! you are very important to me and I care about you very deeply!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussions of self-harm, nothing explicit, some self-destructive tendencies and behaviors.

Pairings: focus on intrulogical, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 2410

Realignment: to align again.

Realignment: to reorganize or make new groupings of.

* * *

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

The problem arises when the shit he starts to hear isn't weird at all.

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

The more appropriate definition would be ‘fucked up like you wouldn’t fucking believe,’ but one of us has a problem with particularly strong language and shit doesn’t have to be censored in a lot of media anymore. Which is so convenient! For some of us!

It’s fucking great.

Anyway. Point being. Fucked up shit.

Intrusive thoughts literally fall under his purview. It’s the fun stuff! The stuff you don’t wanna think about that makes your skin crawl and your eyes pop open at the witching hour and stay awake until the sun rises. That’s Remus’s job.

And it’s like the whole Mindscape is whack-a-mole that he gets to play with! Buttons here and there, squeeze this part and watch the eyes bug out of this part, bap this one on the head, see which one pokes up next. Who’s gonna have nightmares tonight? Who is having a nightmare tonight?

It’s fun.

Point. Right. Right.

It’s normally pretty easy to tell whose intrusive thoughts are whose. They taste different. Patton’s taste like sugar so sweet it’ll fill your mouth with cavities. Virgil’s taste like spiders, crawling around his mouth. Janus’s taste like salt. So much fucking salt. Dry as hell.

Roman’s taste like blood. Problem is, Remus’s mouth normally tastes like blood, so…

Yeah, they gotta work that out.

Logan’s taste like ink. Which is why it took him so long to figure out that Logan was having them. Not just because the nerdy wolverine was so convinced he couldn’t have them—rationalizing them as philosophy principles, come on—but because Remus isn’t exactly an expert on pens. Writing like normal people. Ugh.

Normal people.

What a lie, Janny probably gets a big kick out of those.

No one is normal and normal is boring.

Logan. Right.

Okay, so here’s the thing.

Logan’s thoughts aren’t really…standard? They are to some extent, you don’t really get a whole lot of variety from him—even when Remus has been so helpful in making his room safe for him to be in during bad days, there’s such a lack of imagination there that he wasn’t sure exactly how to feel—but it’s the recent ones that’ve been getting…weird.

Remus chews thoughtfully on the kraken tentacle. He swings up to the chandelier and hangs by his ankles, letting the blood run to his head. Makes it easier to think sometimes.

It hasn’t been very long since they found out…well, since they found out.

Remus frowns. Why is he censoring himself? It’s not like he can’t fucking say self-harm, it’s not like he can’t describe what it was, it’s not like he can’t close his eyes and see it happening again.

Then his mind jumps helpfully to the shocked, panicked look on Logan’s face and the soft, furious resignation on Roman’s, and his jaw snaps shut.

Oh.

Right.

He cares. So he has to be gentle with them.

He growls, swinging himself up to perch on the chandelier proper. He turns the kraken tentacle over and chews on the rubbery side.

The others are delicate. Not that they’re more breakable than any other metaphysical humanoid, but their minds are fragile when it comes to Remus’s side of things. Could they handle the full spectrum of his side of thoughts and shit? Probably, they’re stronger than they give themselves credit for. Should they have to? Hell to the fuck no. But it means that Remus can’t just throw them in the deep end and see if the kraken spits them out whole or in chunks. Could they survive? Absolutely. Would they still be…them? Doubtful.

Remus lets one of his legs go, hanging by one knee as he tips over.

Plus they’re always a little more fragile when it comes to these thoughts anyway. Poking and prodding too much would hurt. Like, the bad kind of hurt.

They’re not supposed to get hurt. Not like that.

So. Gentle it is then.

Right. The others. He has a point, he’s just gotta get there.

Roman…fuck he’s missed his brother. They got—they got so much shit to still work out but they’re gonna do it together and fuck he loves his brother so goddamn much. Roman knows that, he knows that, and he’s always there to pull Remus out of his head when he needs it, hit him with a pillow, or tackle him onto something and hold him tight. He’s—his thoughts taste like blood and Remus hasn’t bitten anything since so that he’ll never miss it again.

But with Logan...

Logan is…odd. It hasn’t been long since they first found out—or rather, they confronted him about it, and Remus hasn’t tasted ink without it disappearing very quickly or knocking on someone’s door to please go get your fucking nerd, please. But the ink has only written the usual suspects, whispering the theorems in dark corners, muttering about the incompleteness of a set, the need for Logic, not Logan, and how to jump through the little loophole again.

It’s not exactly hard for the others to tell.

Lolo hasn’t been looking great. Sure, he’s all pressed and dressed, glasses perfectly in place, tie done up just so, walking around like everything’s just totally and completely fine, but it’s in his face. Object impermanence aside, normally when Remus bugs him, he reacts in some way.

Sass is an emotional response and you won’t convince him otherwise.

Whether it be a wry comment, effortlessly fixing whatever Remus has done to him this time, or even just a look, Lolo does something.

Not anymore.

Now he’ll just kind of…sigh and move on? He’ll fix whatever it is only if it’s directly interfering with what he’s trying to do, or when Patton or Virgil come round the corner and freak the fuck out because you’re bleeding! Then he’ll fix it.

Remus wouldn’t say he’s bored, but he’s worried.

Mainly because the intrusive thoughts…aren’t what he’d consider intrusive anymore.

Take a shower.

Eat something that isn’t just a granola bar.

Go to sleep.

Ask someone for help.

See?

If those are Lolo’s intrusive thoughts, then what the fuck is normally going on in his head?

Remus waits. Waits. Keeps waiting.

The instant his mouth tastes like ink again, with a question of whether or not Logan should take a break, he sinks straight into his shower. He washes his hair thoroughly, gets every single bit of grime off him he can, and puts on the softest pajamas he has—thank you, Roman—and drops himself outside of Logan’s door.

He strains, mouth still full of ink, to hear anything other than the soft click, click, click of Logan’s keyboard.

He can’t.

Fuck.

He knocks.

“One moment, please.”

Indeed, a few seconds later, the door opens to reveal Logan, looking as annoyingly pristine as he always does, surprised to see him.

“Remus? Did you need something? Why…” he trails off as he takes in what Remus is wearing. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I come in?”

“Of—of course,” Logan stammers, moving aside to let him in, “are you alright?”

“Should be asking you that, Lolo.”

“Remus, you’ve just knocked, first of all, on my door and asked to come inside.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he sits at his desk. “This is extremely out of character for you.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus flops onto the bed. “You know what else is out of character?”

“Not wearing your costume?”

“Not hearing intrusive thoughts.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “Has—is there something wrong? Are you not hearing any? Do I need to get Roman?”

Remus frowns. “Why’s it so easy for you to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Care. Try and take care of me.”

Logan blinks. “Because you deserve to be taken care of, Remus. Your needs are important.”

Remus idly toys with a loose thread on one sleeve. “Why?”

“Why? Why are you important?” Remus nods. “Because you’re—you’re an important part of Thomas, you’re important to us, and we care about you.”

“So it’s easy for you to care for me because…you do?”

“As simple as that sounds,” Logan says with all the softness that should be directed at himself, “yes.”

Remus nods. “I’m not having problems with hearing intrusive thoughts.”

“You’re—you’re not?” Logan sighs, relaxing a little back into his chair. “Then why did you say you were?”

“Because the thoughts that I am hearing aren’t really what I’d consider intrusive.”

Logan frowns. “Like what?”

Glad you fucking asked.

“‘Take a shower,’” Remus says, his eyes fixed firmly on Logan’s face, “'eat something,’ ‘take a break,’ ‘go to sleep.’”

He watches Logan’s face tense.

“Sound familiar, Lolo?”

“You—I—my apologies,” Logan manages after a moment, adjusting his tie, “I did not mean to be an inconvenience. You are correct, those are not intrusive thoughts, I’m not sure why you’re hearing them.”

He turns to his desk and begins to fish around for a notebook.

“That is quite intriguing, I wonder what the possibilities for hearing other types of thoughts are, considering—“

“Lolo.”

Logan pauses, turning back. “Yes?”

Remus fixes him with a look, getting up and walking toward him. “They are intrusive thoughts, Logan. The issue is that your intrusive thoughts are about you taking care of yourself.”

Logan freezes.

“W-well, I’m sure that it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“So either you can admit that was a lie or Janny’s about to get summoned.”

“Remus,” Logan sighs, “it’s fine. As you said, these aren’t what are traditionally considered intrusive thoughts, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“No, Lolo, it is,” Remus argues, “because it means that the thought of you taking care of yourself is so foreign, so fucking out of the ordinary that not only does it happen to cross your mind—“ he takes Logan’s chair and spins it around— “but you try to force it out.”

Gotcha.

Logan looks anywhere other than Remus’s face and tries to stand. Only to wobble and crash back down.

“Easy,” Remus says quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder, “you haven’t eaten in a while.”

“But I have work.”

“But you need food.”

“Remus—“

“Logan.”

At Logan’s honest-to-fuck pout, he sighs, dragging the poor nerd up and out the chair and sitting him on the bed.

“Why do you think you don’t deserve to be taken care of?”

“I didn’t say that—hey!” Logan blinks up at him, scandalized and covering his stomach. “Why did you poke me?”

“’S what I do when Janny won’t tell me the truth.”

“I wasn’t—okay, okay!” Logan covers his stomach protectively as Remus readies another poke. “I just…I’ve already asked for help for this before. I shouldn’t have to again.”

Remus sighs and lightly flicks the side of his head.

“Hey!”

“Virgil tries that too.” He stares hard at Logan. “Come on, Lolo, you can do better.”

“It’s not your jobs to take care of me.”

For fuck’s sake…

Remus reaches out and tugs gently on Logan’s tie.

“Remus, what—“

“You taking more books outta Patton’s library now?” Remus tilts his head. “You don’t have to beat around the bush, Lolo, just be honest.”

“I am being honest!”

“You’re not lying, but you’re not being honest.” At the poor nerd’s confusion, he sighs and fixes his glasses on that cute nose. “Just talk to me, Lolo.”

“I—“ Logan sighs and oh fuck why does he look so tired?

Well, because he hasn’t been sleeping.

Or eating.

Or taking care of himself.

Unbidden, part of his conversation with Roman flashes into his head.

“Self-harm can be self-denial too.”

“Lolo?”

“It’s bad enough that I’ve made you all worry about me,” Logan says finally, “I would hate to be a burden.”

Oh, Lolo. “You and Roman, huh?”

Logan looks up warily. “What do you do with Roman?”

“You know what I do.”

Logan sighs. “May at least take my glasses off first?”

“You might wanna change too, I’m not letting you up for a while.”

Logan stretches to place his glasses on the nightstand and poofs himself into a t-shirt and boxers. He sighs and opens his arms.

Remus takes two running steps and tackles the poor nerd onto his bed.

“Ah!”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no, just—just a little startled.”

“Mm.” Remus snuggles closer into Logan, his arms wrapped tightly around him. “So. Wanna try one more time?”

Logan sighs, deflating them both to the bed. His head lolls to his left, eyes on his open computer screen. Remus follows it, barely suppressing a growl as he stretches his arm out to save whatever’s on screen and shut it.

“I know what I’m supposed to be doing,” Logan whispers, “I understand the process, I am aware that healing is not a linear concept, I know it’s going to take time, I—I understand.”

Remus looks down, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “But?”

“It’s hard,” comes the soft confession.

Oh, Lolo.

“I know,” he murmurs, leaning down to hug him properly, “I know, Lolo, I know it’s hard. But you can’t try and do it all yourself, you’ve gotta remember that we’re here for you, we care about you.”

“But why?”

Remus smiles and cuddles him tighter. “You said it yourself, Lolo. We care because we do.”

“O-oh.” He feels Logan’s throat work as he swallows. “Thank you, Remus.”

“Of course, Lolo. I’m guessing that sinking us to the living room so everyone else can spoil you is a bad idea, right?”

“Yes.” Finally, finally, he feels Logan shyly tighten his grip on him. “Can we just…stay like this?”

“Do I have your permission to hold you hostage until you fall asleep?”

“Yes.”

“Then go to sleep, Lolo,” Remus murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

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#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #roman sanders #logan angst #virgil sanders #patton sanders #self harm #tw self harm #tw: self harm

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secretobsessionstuff · 3 years

Text

Traffic Jam: Madix Food Poisoning

Madix awoke with his head in Riley’s lap. It was awfully disorienting. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep with his head against the car window while Dakota and Blair chatted quietly in the front. He also remembered that his stomach was quite full from dinner, and that it lulled him into a deep food coma. He definitely ate too much at the buffet, so he welcomed the drowsiness that came with the heavy meal.

Now he was completely horizontal with his legs curled up on the back seat. He could feel Riley playing with his hair which felt heavenly, but he did want to know how he ended up with his seatbelt off. He also registered the fact that his stomach didn’t feel any lighter. In fact, it was hurting and churning more than before.

With a groan, Madix sat up and looked around. It was dark out, like it had been before he fell asleep, but now the car’s interior was flooded with red from other people’s brake lights. Everywhere he looked, he only saw the lights from many stationary cars on the highway. He couldn’t have been out long if they were still on the highway.

Dakota looked back as he saw movement in the mirror. “Did you sleep off all that food, Mads?”

“Not really.” He squinted more from discomfort that anything else. “How long was I asleep for?”

“Close to two hours.”

“Two hours!” he exclaimed. They should have been back home by now. The four lanes of stopped cars answered some of his questions. “How long have we been in traffic?”

“Close to two hours.”

Madix huffed and fell back on Riley’s lap. He would have much preferred to be home rather than stuck in a sea of parked vehicles. He looked up at Riley with as much of a smile as he could manage with the ache in his belly. “Thanks for keeping me comfy.”

“I didn’t want your neck to hurt from sleeping against the window,” Riley said while leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. “When it seemed like we’d be stopped for a while, I took off your seatbelt.”

“What the hell is keeping us stopped for two hours?”

Blair looked back at the boys and chimed in saying, “the rumour is that some guy got hit trying to cross the lanes. People gave up a while ago and got out of their cars.”

“They have the right idea,” Madix mumbled. He really had to pee and now it seemed things were about to get worse with the nausea that was slowly growing in intensity.

The car was mostly quiet, the conversation having died an hour ago. Madix closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep again, and sleep off the stomach-ache this time. He still had the taste of the ocean in his mouth from the seafood portion of the buffet. It made him want to gag just thinking about it.

His belly was so full and swollen. He could feel it pressing against his jeans, so he undid the button to give him some room to breathe. As he did, his stomach let out long gurgle that he could feel beneath his hand. The air must have traveled up his throat because the next thing he knew he was burping wetly into his fist.

“Ugh, excuse me,” he moaned. Lying down was not the best position to be burping in. His throat was already burning from the reflux.

Riley’s hands went back to playing with Madix’s hair, but it felt more tense this time. “Your stomach was making a lot of noise while you slept.”

“Mmh, it’s kinda upset,” Madix said with his eyes closed. For a moment, he forgot who he was talking to. “I’m actually a little nauseous to be honest.” The gentle massage ended as Riley’s hands froze. Shit. Madix sat up and fixed his hair nervously. He wanted to tell Riley that it wasn’t that bad – that he could hold off until they got home. But he didn’t know when that would be and God his stomach was cramping. Whatever he’d put into his belly really didn’t like it in there.

Riley started to bounce his leg and bite the nail of his thumb. Madix could see the war on his face. Half of his brain told himself to run away while the other half told him that Madix was able to comfort him all the time. It was no big deal. But the louder half was the one telling him to escape. There was only one problem. “Madix, we’re in a car. I—I don’t like this…”

Before saying something that would help, Madix couldn’t help the belch that escaped past his lips. Sitting up straight made the air and food shift around in his stomach. There was another gurgle that made him push his hand into his abdomen. He hated the fear that came across his boyfriend’s face. “Ry, it’ll be fine. I can always get out of the car if I need to.”

That’s when Dakota piped up, perhaps sensing the change in atmosphere. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Madix says he’s nauseous and thinks he’s gonna puke,” Riley said quickly with a quiver in his voice.

“Well, I didn’t say the part about—” Another wet belch caught him off guard and forced him to put a hand over his mouth. Okay, yeah Riley was right, he did think he was gonna puke.

Dakota and Blair both looked back worriedly. It was weird to see Dakota so well from the back seat, but it wasn’t like he had to concentrate on driving. He gave his friend a sympathetic look which morphed into an alarmed one as he heard the burp that Madix let out. “Damn, that didn’t sound good. Are you—”

Madix suddenly opened the door and left before Dakota could finish his sentence. Dakota just stared at the place where Madix had been. He blinked a few times and then simply turned up the car’s music up much louder than normal. With his hand on the door, he looked back at Blair. “You should talk to Riley about something really awesome. I don’t know what, but just talk. Or sing!”

“I’ve got him. Go help Madix.”

Dakota didn’t need to be told twice. He left his passengers in the beautiful company of Freddie Mercury as Bohemian Rhapsody started to play. Good, that was a long song.

He went around to the back of the car where he found Madix hunched over and coughing. There was no puddle of vomit by his feet. Yet. The boy’s hair was a mess and sticking up from sweat. Dakota placed his large hand in the center of his back. “You know, you puke in my car a lot.”

Madix groaned and spat on the ground as his mouth filled with saliva. “I didn’t this time.”

“I know. It just got me thinking of all the lovely memories,” Dakota said with a grin. The grin turned into a grimace as Madix burped, the sound of it hitting the back of his throat. “Did you catch a bug? ‘Cause I can’t imagine you’d be carsick.” Looking around at the traffic jam, Dakota tried not to make eye contact with the car behind them. It was only then that he realized that they might be giving a few people a show that they didn’t want to see.

Madix shook his head. This was worse than motion sickness. This was something spoiled trying to crawl out of him. Or swim out of him. He was going to tell Dakota the reason, but a harsh retch put an end to that plan.

Dakota’s eyes went wide. “Oh boy, sounds like you’ll tell me later.”

Madix’s stomach heaved into his throat as a gush of partially digested food rushed out of his mouth. It splattered in between his feet, forming an impressive yet disgusting puddle of sushi and ice cream, and everything else that the buffet offered.

He felt big circles being rubbed on his back which made the pain of his next retch less terrible. Still not great. His throat burned from the second wave of sick. The burn invaded his nose, making him wish he had a tissue as the sniffles came on strong.

Dakota gave his back a firm pat in between the light circles. “There you go. Get that shit up and you’ll feel better.” He had no idea how true those words were. Madix just had to get it out of his system because it was wreaking havoc on his stomach.

There was a rare moment of quiet in between bouts that Madix used to contemplate if life was worth living. He leaned against the back of the car, trying to catch his breath before the next round started.

“Are you finished?” Dakota asked, “Because I have water in the car.”

He moaned. “No, but water would be great.”

Dakota came back to the car just in time to hear the last verse of the song. Riley and Blair were indeed singing, albeit shakily in Riley’s case.

“How’s he doing?” Riley asked with concern in his voice.

“Beautiful, very impressive boyfriend you’ve got,” Dakota said with the same energy that he gave to everything. “But seriously, he’s okay. We’re managing. Lovely voices by the way.” He gave a Blair a wink and left.

Madix was back to gagging over the puddle with sick hanging from his lips. Yep, so beautiful, Dakota mumbled to himself.

“Thanks,” Madix said as he wiped his sleeve across his mouth and took the water bottle from his friend. “It was something I ate by the way. Sorry about this.”

“Hey, I got nowhere to go,” Dakota raised his arms, gesturing to the traffic jam.

As if the universe wanted to prove Dakota wrong, the cars started rolling ever so slowly. It was more movement than they’d seen in the last two hours. “Finally. Do you think you’ll be okay for the rest of the drive?”

“I hope so.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate doing this to Riley.”

“He’s singing his worries away with Blair.” Dakota waved his hand in the air.

“I thought I heard Queen.”

Dakota chuckled. “And I think I’m going to take the backroads home, so I’ll pull over whenever you need.”

Before Madix could thank his friend, the car behind them honked at them to get a move on. Dakota shouted unkind words to them and waved goodbye with only one finger.

#emeto #emetophilia #emetophile #emeto fic #emeto kink #sickfic #food poisoning #Madix #Riley #Dakota #Blair #my ocs #vomiting #puking #platonic

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subterfugespecialist · 3 years

Text

Led to You

As a child, everyone finds their "soulmate guide," an animal meant to lead your soulmate to you. And one morning, Janus and Remus wake up to see a stranger's guide in their homes.

Written for Day 3 of @dukeceitweek : snakes/bugs

AO3 link

Pairings: Dukeceit, Familial Creativitwins, Platonic Loceit, Moceit, and Dukexiety

Warnings: Some Remus-typical violent thoughts, scorpions/tarantulas/snakes

Word count: 4228

Janus woke up to something brushing against his hand. He groaned and batted Dusa away while muttering "Five more minutes"

But when it brushed against his hand again, he noticed it was definitely not the headbutt from a snake. His eyes snapped open and he glanced down to see a fucking scorpion on his bed holy shit-

If his roommate asked if that was him that made the high pitched squeal that morning, no it wasn't.

He scrambled out of bed to look around for something to try and trap the scorpion under, but he didn't want to get near it what the fuck-

Janus paused. The scorpion was staring at him. At least, it looked like the scorpion was staring at him. It at least didn't look like it was trying to attack him.

Did... did it wave?

Now that Janus had calmed down, he noticed the scorpion was a deep, emerald green. Janus didn't know much about bugs, never had a reason to, but he never heard of a green scorpion before.

Could it be...?

"Hey, Logan?"

Footsteps came from the kitchen down the hallway.

"I was wondering when you were going to call me in," Logan said as he opened the door, his deep blue raven perched on top of his head, "What happened?"

"Can scorpions be green?"

"Why would I know that, Janus?"

"Because you know everything."

"Why are you asking?"

Janus pointed to his bed, and when Logan looked down he jumped back with a startled shout, disturbing the raven on his head.

The scorpion turned towards Logan and, yeah, the scorpion definitely waved.

After calming himself (and his bird), Logan slowly approached Janus' bed.

"...While I have heard of scorpions glowing green under ultraviolet light-"

"Oh, so you did know, you asshole-"

"I haven't seen a scorpion that looks like this, no," Logan said, crouching down next to the bed, "Is Dusa here? She was not under her heat lamp."

"Dusa? Come here, darling."

Dusa didn't crawl out of hiding, and Janus' room and the living room under her heat lamp were the only places she liked to be first thing in the morning.

"I guess she isn't."

Logan's raven, Minerva, hopped off his head onto the bed to examine the scorpion. She leaned down and the scorpion gently bumped heads. Minerva let out a happy chirp.

"My soulmate guide is a scorpion."

"Fascinating," Logan muttered as the scorpion and Minerva playfully chased each other around the bed, "I haven't heard of a bug guide before."

Janus glanced at the clock and put his hand down on the bed. The scorpion immediately ran onto his palm.

"I have class in an hour," he said as he cupped his hands and lifted the scorpion, "So how do you feel about business, corporate, and commercial law?"

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Remus woke up to Roman screaming. After a moment of debating whether to go back to sleep or not, he decided that, yeah, he probably should go check on the well being of his brother. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Remus trudged towards the living room to see a snake curled up on the couch, with Roman's robin perched on its head.

"Peter, please come here!" Roman pleaded. But the little bird seemed perfectly content on top of the snake. The snake started to slither off the couch, making roman shout again. The robin flew onto Roman's hand and he relaxed a bit as he held the bird to his chest.

Roman took his gaze off his brother back to the snake and- oh look at that it. It was headed towards him.

"Remus stop standing there what is wrong with you-"

The snake was around four feet long with yellow-and-black stripes. Quite gorgeous, really.

Remus decided he wanted to pick it up.

He knelt down and outstretched his arm (as Roman continued to shout at him), letting the snake crawl up and around his shoulders. The snake nuzzled its head against Remus' cheek.

Roman stared at him, eyes wide and mouth opened.

"What?"

"You're insane."

"And you're a chickenshit. You've lived with a scorpion as a roommate your whole life and you're gonna freak out over a snake guide?"

"How was I supposed to know it was a guide!?"

Remus stepped over and placed a hand on Roman's shoulder. "...You're a moron."

Roman shoved him.

"Peter was fine. And we should be expecting to find strange animals in our apartment at this age."

"Oh, piss off to find your soulmate and stop bothering me for a while."

"Gladly."

Remus turned to go back to his bedroom.

"...I'm really happy for you, you know."

Remus stopped and groaned. "Roman, no sentimental bullshit before nine."

"But I mean it. You deserve this."

"...Thanks, you idiotic bastard."

Roman gave him a gentle smile as Peter hopped onto Remus' head and nestled into his wild mess of bedhead.

"Also you screamed like a little girl."

"Fuck off-"

Remus cackled as Roman shoved him again. Peter gave Remus a petulant little peck on the top of his head.

Peter flew back over to Roman while Remus held out his arms go guide the snake in front of his face.

"Are you gonna lead me to my soulmate?" Remus asked with a large grin, which only grew wider when the snake nodded.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Janus was very much enjoying having a scorpion on his shoulder. People instinctively stepped away from him, even more so than with Dusa, meaning he didn't have to fight his way through the crowded sidewalks.

The scorpion had been upset that Janus didn't follow its directions. It scuttled frantically from one shoulder to the other. It calmed only when Janus explained he had to go to class, but would follow its directions immediately after.

Janus was stopped in his tracks, though, by a corgi running up to him and jumping on his knees.

"Hi, Peachy," Janus said as he scratched behind her ears. The scorpion crawled down his arm in curiosity.

if someone's guide was a common house pet like a dog or cat, they were issued a special white collar to show they were a soulmate guide to be allowed in public places along with service animals.

But this dog didn't have such a collar. She was just a dog.

"Hey, Janus!" someone called out. Janus looked up to see Patton jogging down the sidewalk, his guide right beside him.

"Hello, Patton. Hello, Cookie," Janus said to his friend and the capybara standing next to him.

Patton had been Logan's friend first, and Janus hadn't been too keen on his... optimistic personality at first. But dammit, the guy's too sweet.

"Miss Peachy! What have I told you about running off?" Patton said with a light scowl as he reattached her leash. But of course, unlike a guide, she couldn't actually understand. She jumped off Janus' legs to go lick the capybara's face.

Janus didn't understand the appeal of keeping animals that weren't your guide, but to each their own, he supposed.

Patton's eyes fell to Janus' shoulder, and after the instinctive fear vanished a large smile took over his face.

"Oh! You've got your soulmate guide!!"

"Yep," Janus said as he resumed walking down the sidewalk. Patton followed.

"Ohmygosh, this is so exciting!" Patton exclaimed, practically bouncing as he walked, "How long have you been out trying to find them? Do you think you're close?"

"I'm going to class, actually."

"Really? Gosh, you've got more self control than me," Patton laughed, "I don't think I'd be able to wait."

"I've got exams soon, Patton. I can't risk missing anything."

"Oh, I'm not trying to change your mind! You do what you think is best. But aren't you excited?"

Janus was convinced Patton was smiling so hard his face was going to get stuck like that. But when Janus didn't answer immediately, his frown dampened.

"Hey, are you okay, Jan?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, honey. You're nervous, aren't you?" Patton asked as his smile turned empathetic, which Janus thought was almost worse than excited.

The scorpion nuzzled against his neck, which was an odd sensation for sure, but Janus appreciated the sentiment.

"Of course I'm not nervous. I have no reason to be."

Patton tilted his head down slightly and gave him that look. The soft-smile dad-friend look that meant you were about to be comforted, whether you like it or not. Janus sighed.

"Okay, fine. A little," he conceded. He probably should be worried about how close that scorpion and its stinger was against his neck as it cuddled closer. But he'd never heard of a soulmate guide killing anyone, so he chose not to.

"Oh, sweetie," Patton said in that annoyingly soft tone. He wrapped an arm around Janus' and led him over to a bench. Peachy promptly hopped up to sit on Patton's lap while Cookie plopped against Patton's legs, giving Janus a soft nudge with her nose.

"It's not a big deal," Janus huffed, "I just think its reasonable to be nervous about meeting some stranger I am now expected to spend my life with."

"You have every right to feel what you're feeling. Such a big life change can be scary. But I'm certain your soulmate will understand your reservations and will go at any pace you're comfortable with."

While yes, the idea of a soulmate was a pleasant one, it was also a bit... concerning, to say the least. Janus was quite happy with where he was in life, and he wasn't too keen on the idea of something changing it all completely.

He was a bit surprised Logan wasn't his soulmate. He was the perfect roommate: neat, consistent, punctual. And Janus felt enough fondness for Logan that he was sort of expecting to wake up one day and have their guides just push them into each others' arms.

Alas, apparently not.

Janus bit his lip, debating. It would be good to talk about his worries. And as much as Janus pretended, he was actually quite fond of Patton.

"Patton, what if we don't work?"

"What do you mean, hon?"

"This person is supposedly meant to complete me. To make me better. But I'm perfectly fine the way I am now. I don't feel like I'm missing anything. What if I meet them and they just want to... to fix me? Because I'm expected to change for them?"

"Janus, your soulmate is meant to compliment you. Not complete you. You aren't missing any parts of yourself, because you're already your own complete person. And you certainly don't need to be 'fixed.'"

The scorpion crawled down to Janus' hands, and Janus ran his thumb over its back to pet it.

"But what if... what if we meet and nothing happens? Everyone always talks about their 'immediate romantic connections' but I don't buy it. What if we're doomed to always be strangers? After all, I'm not particularly good with people, Pat. What did I call you when we first met? A-"

"An annoying, self-righteous, dependent puppy with no boundaries?"

Janus winced. "Yeah. That."

A gentle smile grew on Patton's face as he held his arms out for a hug. Janus hesitated for only a moment before accepting.

"You don't need to worry about anything. Soulmates don't always mean romantic. Even if you don't feel romance at first, even if you never do, you two are going to share a tight bond and a special relationship different from anyone else you know. Nothing gets to take that from you."

"...Thank you, Patton. For taking the time to talk to me."

"Of course! What are friends for?"

Patton gave him a soft smile, and Janus gave him a rare, genuine one in return.

"Oh! I hope I didn't make you late for class!"

Janus looked at his watch. "I'll be fine if I hurry. Thank you. Again. Goodbye, Cookie. Bye, Peachy."

Peachy didn't react. Cookie gave him one last gentle nudge.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The snake in Remus' arms couldn't guide in front of him like Roman's bird would or any sort of animal with wings or legs. While he could let it slither on the ground, it would be dangerous with how busy the sidewalk was. And Remus really didn't need to return the snake to his soulmate all squished.

So it was wrapped around his shoulders, reaching down his arms, and rested in his hands, guiding him down the street like a compass.

The snake turned back to look at Remus.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked as he kept walking, the snake shaking its head urgently. Only for someone to grab the back of his jacket and yank him back, pulling him off the street and narrowly missing oncoming traffic.

"Watch where you're going, asshole," the person muttered. Remus turned, ready to start shit, but instead broke into a goofy grin when he saw Virgil.

"Hey, emo!"

Besides Roman, Virgil was Remus' only friend. Most people were too put off by Remus', well, everything.

And Virgil had been too, at first. But the two bonded over their soulmate's guides being creatures most of the public feared and the stigma that came with that. And now he was used to Remus' bullshit.

"And hey, Helena," he said to the tarantula sitting on Virgil's shoulder.

"So. You found your soulmate guide," Virgil said. The snake reached over to inspect Virgil and he scratched under its chin, the snake then nuzzling against Virgil's cheek.

"On your way to find your soulmate?" he asked as the snake and tarantula started inspecting each other.

"Yep!"

"Are you nervous?"

"Nope!"

Virgil squinted at him, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but all he saw was the normal, excitable Remus.

"Shit, you're lucky, man. I've been psyching myself out over meeting mine."

"But aren't they, like, made for you?"

"Supposedly. But you know me. I can't stop thinking about all the bad things. Like what if they don't like me?"

"Well, that would be a them problem."

Virgil let out an amused huff. "Really? You wouldn't be bothered?"

"Well, yeah," Remus said as he watched the snake and Helena play peekaboo behind Virgil's neck. "But like, it's not like I'm not used to people not liking me. And if I don't know this person, what would I lose, really? So actually, this can only go up for me."

Virgil cast him a sad smile. Remus hated it.

"It'll be good for you," Virgil said as the two crossed the street. "You are a strange fucking creature, but you're a good dude. Mostly. Partially? Mostly."

"It'll be good for you, too, then. Cause you're better than me."

Virgil nudged him with his shoulder.

"Ultimately, I know it will be. My brain just hates me."

"You and me both, emo."

The snake curled back against Remus after booping Helena and resumed its role as soulmate compass.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Remus ended up on his old school campus.

Ew.

He had dropped out, and he had hoped he would never have to step foot back here again. Oh, well, C'est la vie, or whatever the fuck.

Though you needed to swipe a student ID to unlock the doors, Remus knew if he yanked hard enough the doors would give. He had managed to make it through a whole semester without his ID after he lost it.

A grimace grew on Remus' face as he walked back into the Taylor Building for the first time in over a year. It was named after his least favorite professor, and he had a lot of bad memories in this building.

Time to find his soulmate and get the fuck out.

He was just about to head upstairs when someone shouted at him.

"Excuse me! Only students and faculty are allowed in this building."

Yeah, Remus supposed he didn't look like the typical law majors that took up a majority of the classes here. Not with his spiked leather jacket and ripped jeans. He turned to see who had yelled at him.

And speak of the devil.

"Hey, you're Taylor!"

The man straightened his shoulders.

"Yes, I am. Were you a student of mine?"

"Yeah! I hated your fuckin' guts."

The man looked like he had been slapped before a sneering look of recognition appeared on his face.

"Remus Kingsley."

"Aw, I'm flattered you remember me. Especially since I dropped out. You encouraged me to, remember? Right after you called me a, what was it, 'moronic good-for-nothing- imbecile that would never amount to anything?'"

"You need to leave immediately."

Taylor had reached out to grab Remus but he bolted up the stairs, making sure he had a tight grip on the snake.

He wasn't about to give up on his soulmate that easy.

As they ran down the upstairs hallway, Taylor continued to shout at him. But Remus wasn't worried. He was clearly much faster.

He turned to see the disheveled man chasing behind him and laughed. This was kinda fun!

Then he had to turn around and run face first into the chest of a campus officer.

Well, bitchtits.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Janus' class was nothing out of the ordinary, except that his surrounding classmates had inched as far away from this as they could, and Janus was enjoying the extra space.

The scorpion had been still on his shoulder for the most part, settling in where Janus' neck and shoulder met. But now it stood, rushing down Janus' arm to the desk and running around in circles.

"What is it?" he whispered.

Right after he asked that, shouting was heard down the hallway. The professor and students all turned their heads in time to see someone running past the door, laughing, with Professor Taylor chasing after them.

"...Okay, then," The professor said, "Now back to your review material."

Janus hardly listened as the professor spoke. He was more focused on the scorpion that kept switching between running in circles and scuttling onto Janus' hand.

When the professor dismissed the class, Janus hung back. He preferred to let the crowd of students leave before him instead of trying to fight his way through.

By the time he walked into the hallway, it was mostly empty. Janus was holding the scorpion in the palm of his hands and it jumped to get his attention. It gestured with its body to go down the hallway.

"Alright, let's go."

The scorpion led him down a couple of hallways, and Janus heard shouting and the sound of running footsteps against the tile.

A man ran around the corner, his neon green combat boots skidding on the floor as he tried to stop. He had a mustache above a wild grin, with a streak of white through his hair.

He also had Dusa wrapped around his neck.

Janus stared. The man stopped in front of him.

"Fluffy!" he said to the scorpion in Janus' hands, who was alternating between running in circles again and hopping in excitement.

He looked up at Janus with a manic grin. "Hey! I'm Remus. I'd love to stop and chat but I'm afraid I've found myself wrapped up with something."

Two campus officers rounded the corner.

What the fuck.

Janus took the scorpion - Fluffy - in one hand and held it against his chest, grabbing Remus' wrist with the other and bolting.

Remus let out a delighted laugh as he let Janus pull him down the hallway and down a set of stairs.

Jesus, what did Janus get himself into?

He was heading towards one of the student parking lots, cutting through the Union. There would be lots of students and he hoped they could get lost in the crowd. But with two idiots running across the yard with a snake and a scorpion, people were parting a path for them. Which made them more obvious but at least let them through.

When Janus looked behind him, he couldn't see the officers, but he didn't want to risk it. It wasn't exactly hard to identify them: one with a large scar on the left side of his face and the other, with, well, a lot of fucking identifiable traits.

Logan would probably get mad at him for this, but Janus was sure he would be forgiven that same day if he made Logan thumbprint cookies. So Janus let go of Remus' hand to dig in his pocket, finding the spare key to Logan's car he gave Janus only for emergencies. Janus would consider this an emergency. Logan probably would not.

Janus unlocked the car and Remus got in without question. Remus hardly stopped laughing.

Great. So his soulmate was a maniac.

Janus pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, gunning it out of there as Remus shouted in excitement.

"Fuck, yeah, dude!" he yelled. His seat-belt was not on, by the way.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Trespass, technically. But it would've been fine if that bitchass Taylor hadn't come along. And then I maybe assaulted an officer, but could it really be assault if I just whacked him when he tried to grab me? Anyways I already have three offenses - I guess four now - and I didn't want to go to jail or anything so I started running-"

"God, I'm going to miss my next class," Janus groaned, "What if they try to find me tomorrow?"

"How's your track record?"

"It's clean. Unlike someone, I don't get caught."

"Psh, then you're probably fine. you're a white law student."

Janus took a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. What was even happening right now?

"...Okay, I may have fucked this up," Remus started, and he at least had the decency to sound sheepish, "I didn't mean to drag you into this mess, even though I was purposefully... searching... for you... Shit, I didn't even think about that. I don't think a lot, actually. I mean, I wasn't even paying attention on the way to find you. I almost got hit by a car. Could you imagine, Fluffy leading you to me only to find your soulmate and guide squashed by a car and our blood and guts everywhere-"

"Remus."

"Sorry, sorry," he groaned as his hands went to grab his hair, "I was really excited to meet you, and even when being chased by police my dumb brain only wanted to focus on finding you because I don't have many friends cause most people get weirded out since I can't control my thoughts or my mouth so, like, all the weird shit that pops int my brain just comes right out and I was really looking forward to meeting someone who wouldn't leave-"

"Remus, it's okay," Janus interrupted, "Deep breaths, okay?"

Remus took a couple deep breaths.

Then Janus let out a short laugh. He felt bad for laughing, but he couldn't help it.

"...What?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. The situation just caught up to me: You're my soulmate, we just ran from the police, and we just took my friend's car and wow. Can't say this is how I expected this to go."

Remus grimaced. "Sorry."

"No, actually. This is better than the sappy shit I was thinking about."

Remus perked up a bit. "Yeah?"

"Is it always like this with you? Am I sentenced to spend my life digging you out of trouble, now?"

"Yeah, probably."

Janus laughed again as he pulled into the parking lot of a shopping center. He had no clear idea where he was going, and at least this place had plenty of people and plenty of parking. When he stopped, the scorpion hopped off his shoulder and scuttled to Remus.

"Hey, Fluffy," he said with a smile as he put the scorpion in his lap.

"Hey, actually, let's talk about that," Janus said, "You named your scorpion Fluffy?"

"Yeah. I named him that to trick people. Scared the shit out of my mom when he first showed up. 'Hey, meet Fluffy,' then I pull a scorpion out from behind my back. It never gets old."

Janus couldn't stop smiling, and he was sure his face was disgustingly close to Patton's in terms of fondness, but he couldn't do anything to help that.

"I'm Janus. The lovely lady on your shoulders is Dusa."

"Janus. That's a badass name," Remus said as he scritched Dusa under her chin.

"Thank you for your help today, Dusa," Janus said with a grin as she slithered back over to wrap around Janus, "And you, too, Fluffy."

"Fuck yeah. Thanks guys. Shit, Dusa was awesome. I'm pretty sure that while I was running, she flicked her tail to open a door and it hit one of the officers in the face."

Janus glanced down at her. "You are an enabler."

She stuck her tongue out.

"Well, since we're already here, would you like to go on a date or something? It seems like you have stories to tell," Janus said as he gestured to the mall in front of them.

"Yeah," Remus said with a fond grin, "Are you hungry? I'm starving. Wanna go to the food court. On me. We'll have to be careful, though. I'm pretty sure I'm banned from this mall."

Janus stared at him before bursting out laughing again. This was his life now, and how exciting that thought was.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

Thanks for reading! Requests are open in my inbox. Hope you enjoyed <3

#sanders sides #dukeceit week #janus sanders #remus sanders #dukeceit #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic loceit #creativitwins #platonic moceit #platonic dukexiety #janus fic #remus fic #dukeceit fic

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wormstacheangel · 3 years

Text

15x18 coda fic...?

I had an idea that bugged me so I wrote it. What if Dean just...threw himself at Cas while the Empty was taking him? Then this happened. (comfort/fluff/first kiss)

No.

Cas looked back at him. A smile so big and loving but heartbreaking all at once was still on his lips.

No. No. No.

Dean watched it all from the ground where Cas had shoved him to protect him again because that’s what Cas does. He protects him. He saves him time after time. Everything he has done has been for...him. He always knew that Cas made it pretty clear but he could never accept it. It made no sense for an angel of the lord to sacrifice so much for him, for him specifically, but here he was doing it again. Sacrificing his life once again but it’s so much different this time.

“No!” A shaky cry came out of him as he half lunged and crawled to take a hold of Cas’s legs that were already covered in black goo.

Dean can feel the goo start to envelop him as well and while fear was completely eating at him, there was nothing in the damn universe that could make him let go. He held his breath as he pressed his face into Cas’s thigh and felt the goo crawling up his neck to finally swallow them.

Then it was silent.

Dean felt like he just woke up but he knew only a few seconds had passed. His grip was still tight on Cas’s legs but the goo was gone now. He let out the breath of air that was burning his lungs before he even dared to look up, the glare was so clearly burning into the top of his head.

“Dean?”

Dean still wasn’t thinking clearly as he hid his face into Cas’s thigh. Clinging to him as he kneeled at his feet because Cas was still with him. He could feel a sob trying to escape from his throat but he just buried his face deeper into Cas. Letting the tears fall but still, the goodbye was not processing with him. He was about to lose Cas again but he’s right here. He was still with him.

“Dean?”

Cas pulled his white-knuckled grip off of him as he kneeled down to look at him but Dean couldn’t stand the separation so he pulled Cas into a strong hug. One that must have surprised Cas as he made a gasping noise while Dean hid his face into the side of Cas’s face. Feeling the tickle of his hair on his lips and nose. Breathing in the scent of rain, Cas always carries and lets one of his hands buried themselves into his hair while the other wrapped around his shoulders to hold him close. He has him.

Then he felt Cas’s shoulders shake. His arms remained at his side as his chin rested on Dean’s shoulder. He could just picture Cas’s face and it made him squeeze his eyes shut as he let out his own gasping sob. His hand grasping at Cas’s coat afraid to let go. Afraid he would really disappear again if his hold loosens because he has his own confession to say but everything was overwhelming him.

“Cas,” Dean took a shaky breath against Cas’s skin before he rested his forehead on Cas’s shoulder. “Tell me again. Say it again. I need to know...I need to know it’s really you.”

Dean didn’t move as Cas’s hands finally touched him. He started making soft strokes down his spine, comforting and warm. Not at all desperate the way Dean was holding him.

“Dean, Chuck has no hold on me. You know that. I’m real. My feelings are real. We… we are real.” His voice was still calm but he could hear softness in them still. The way he was still holding back cries.

“Then say it again.” Dean pushed back just enough to take Cas’s face in between his shaky hands. Their eyes meet for the first time since being here and Dean had to fight back another sob as he meets those watery blue eyes. With his thumbs, he wiped Cas’s tears away and desperately said, “Please. I need to hear you say it again.”

He smiled again as he started saying his name but Dean shook his head as he let his head hang between them. A shaky breath or laugh escaping him as his mind still fogged up, nothing making sense anymore.

“No, wait, shh!” He shook his head as if everything would clear up but he was still feeling a bit dizzy. Not ready to hear the words and finally accept them. “Shit, fuck, I’m not ready. Wait”

He heard Cas chuckle, felt the shaking in between his hands, before he said, “You’re so stupid.”

“Gee thanks, Cas, and here I thought you loved me.” The teasing came out so naturally that it shocked Dean when those words escaped his lips.

Of course, Cas would not skip a beat as he said, “I do - love you I mean - but I also think you’re an idiot at times. Like right now for instance.” He pulled Dean’s hands off of him but held them tightly on his lap. Dean looked up to meet his glare. “Jumping into the grasp of The Empty? Really, Dean?”

“Cas, I-I can’t lose you again.” Dean shook his head as he looked back at him. Watching Cas strain to hold back his emotions as tears continued to flow.

“Dean, it’s fine. I was at peace with my decision. If it meant saving you,” Cas looked down at their hands moving them just enough so the desperation wasn’t showing. Cas sat back on the black hollow floor and held one of Dean’s hands. Held it as if they were going to go for a nice walk instead of discussing his own sacrifice. “I’ll do anything.”

Dean sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder as their hands rested on Cas’s knee. “So what? I’m supposed to willingly let you go?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Cas rolls his eyes as he uses his free hand to wipe his face. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Well, I do.”

“No.” Cas says firmly as he shakes his head. He made a move to let go of their hands but Dean only tightened his grip. Cas sighs as he looks down at their hands again before looking back at Dean. Softer but still an edge. “No, you need to leave.”

“He’s right you know.” Dean turns towards the familiar voice and sees Meg appear before them. Her smile wild and manic as she glared down at them. He instantly stood up to block Cas from her view. “No humans in my void.”

“I’m not leaving without, Cas.” He could feel Cas’s hand gripping at the back of his shirt, ready to yank him out of the way at the first sign of trouble.

“Dean,” Cas started but Dean reached behind him to squeeze his wrist.

“Shut up.” Dean tells him before looking back at Meg or not Meg. “We’re kind of a package deal so you might as well throw us both back.”

She chuckles before she takes a shaky step towards them. “Humans aren’t supposed to be here. You shouldn’t be here. You’re being too noisy. Everything is too loud now!”

Dean pulled at Cas’s wrist to pull him in close. To just make sure he was there. “Then let us continue our conversation back at home and we’ll leave you alone.”

“No! Castiel and I had a deal.”

“Fine! Send me back alone but you’ll never get peace.” Dean threatened as he pulled Cas along with him when he took a step towards Meg. “You’re gonna deal with my stubborn ass poking at you again and again until I get him back. Cause trust me, sweetheart, I’m not someone who gives up easily. I killed Death already, twice, and you’re going to be next on my list.”

Meg just started to giggle, low and deep, before she started to full-on laugh. Throwing her head back before she looked back at them with her wild smile. She grabbed her head as she closed her eyes. “I just...I want to sleep! Let me sleep.”

“What if we promised not to bother you?” Cas stepped forward and away from Dean’s grasp. “We were all betrayed by Billie but what if we work together again. Help each other get what we want. You get your peace again and we-”

“You guys walk out of here?” Cas only nodded while Dean couldn’t stop himself from reaching for Cas, his hands grasping at his trench coat. She eyed them both. “I never want either of you or that...Jack, here again.”

“Got it. We can do that.” Dean says as he stands beside Cas. Looking over at him while Cas kept his eyes forward. Standing strong and confident while his face was a blank stare but Dean could see his mind running. “Cas?”

“We still need to defeat Chuck. I can’t promise I’ll make it out of that alive. I may be back here in a few hours or days after we return.” Cas doesn’t look at him as he talked but at Meg who was glaring back at him. “If you help us defeat him maybe we can all finally have peace.”

“How?”

“I summon you again.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue but Cas shook his head at him, holding his hand out to stop him from talking but Dean instead took it. Intertwining their fingers together to let Cas know that if it’s a dumb suicidal plan again then he better be ready for him to follow him into the damn dark again.

“I summon you when I am close to Chuck and you-”

“And I’ll bring him here.” Meg finished Cas’s sentence with a smirk. “Where he is powerless.”

“He has Amara in him so that would keep them both alive. Keep the balance.” Dean adds as Cas eyes finally turn to look at him with a smile on his lips as things start to fall in place. He squeezes his hand with a hopeful look because maybe, just maybe, they had a chance for some real happiness.

“We got work to do then.” Cas tells Dean before turning back to Meg.

She looks back at them with a less strained and creepy smile before she says, “I’ll be waiting for your summon then? I’m still connected to you, Castiel, so I’ll hear you.”

Cas gave a solid nod while Dean didn’t like the sound of that at all. He was about to open his mouth to ask what that meant but then Meg waved her hand and they were in the dark again.

Dean woke up face down back in the dungeon. He blinked awake as he sat up trying to get his head on straight when he sprang up to look for Cas, afraid he was left behind. That he was tricked and this was how he finds out that he actually lost Cas. He lost him before he could even-

“Oh.” Dean turns to find Cas passed out behind him. He was laying on his back with his tie draped across his face. He couldn’t help but chuckle wanting to add another picture to his collection but there were more important things to do, to say, right now. “Cas?”

He crawled over to him and moved his tie as he shook his shoulders to wake him. “Come on, sleeping beauty, time to get up.”

Cas groaned as his eyes tighten up before he opens them, squinting up at Dean with a confused haze. “Dean?”

“Yeah, buddy, come on.” Dean helped sit him but then he was pulled into an overwhelming hug. The relief that was running out of Cas was heavy as his grip was tight but for the first time, Cas turned his head to hide his face into Dean’s neck. “Cas?”

Cas shook his head and once again Dean felt the angel shake with silent cries.

Dean held on to him as he tried to comfort him but his own tears were blinding him. Cas was here, alive and in his arms. He almost lost him again and just like every other time he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go on. How was he supposed to care about saving a world that he wanted to escape from? Now, now everything was right again. Well, almost everything.

Dean pulled back just enough to look back at Cas’s red-rimmed eyes, the most he has ever seen the angel cry.

“You’re a mess.” He reached over to wipe Cas’s face with his sleeve and that made Cas slowly smile before a choke of a laugh escaped him.

“Yeah, well you don’t look so hot either.” Cas copied him, Dean’s face being wiped clean by the rough fabric of the dirty old trench coat. His smile slow-growing before he was grinning, dazzling, and beautiful as his fingers then replaced the fabric. Then the smile became a pout again as he tried to fight back more tears. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t want to leave you but I saw no other way to save you.”

His fingers reached to caress Dean’s face with no hesitation. Dean cloaked Cas’s hands with his own before he asked again. “Tell me now.”

Cas rolled his eyes as he shared his you’re-such-an-idiot smile. “Dean, are you sure this time?”

“Yeah, Cas, say it again.”

Cas features all soften as he relaxed while he looked into his eyes. There was never fear in Cas’s eyes while he took a deep breath. He looked so happy so...in love.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean let go of the breath he must have been holding as he read Cas’s lips. His voice echoing in his head, trying to compare both of the confessions but they both sounded so confident. This time though it wasn’t a goodbye. No, this was just the beginning for them.

Dean let his forehead fall against Cas’s own, a move that surprised Cas as he froze under the touch. He felt too overwhelmed with it all but it’s true. His angel loved him, the words that always were unspoken between them were finally out in the open. That whole speech was Cas. It was how he truly felt about Dean and maybe he wasn’t as good with his words as Cas but he could at least say it.

“I love you, Cas.” Dean fought the lump in his throat. “I love you. You...you have me. You always had me.”

“Dean.” Cas gasped out still unmoving as all of this was new territory for them but it wasn’t weird. It wasn’t uncomfortable but just unsure. Still hesitant. As if they both couldn’t believe they finally crossed this dumb line they drew themselves. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Dean pulled back just enough that their noses touched but he wasn’t ready to be so far away from him just yet. “Are you?”

“Yes!” Cas said sounding half annoyed that Dean ever doubted him in the first place and half thrilled that he could finally say it. “It’s one of the few things I know for certain. I love you, Dean.”

“Cool. Can I…?” Dean wanted to ask but now he finally felt the embarrassment, the one that always crawled up his neck when they were found too close together. Lost in each other’s gaze and always drifting closer without words.

“Please do.”

Dean watched Cas's eyes drift closed and just when he got the confidence to lean in he heard his name being called out in the halls. Desperate and scared.

“Sam?” Cas turned towards the hall and heard Jack call back to him. “Jack!”

Dean let himself be pulled up by Cas before they were both almost tackled down by their kid. “You’re alive!”

“Barely,” Dean mumbled as Cas turned to narrow his eyes at him, telling him not to worry the kid so much. “We’re fine. How are you guys?”

Sam walked in then and they get the cliff notes of Sam and Jack’s missing person’s case. Then it was their turn to do the same, leaving out the whole them part out of it. Now they had to figure out how they can make Chuck bring all these people back before they shove his ass into the Empty.

“Come on, we can check the town out.” Sam tells them and Jack follows right behind him.

Cas was going to follow them right out the door but Dean then grabbed his arm to pull him back to him. Taking his face in his hands and before Cas could say anything, though his wide eyes made him believe that Cas wasn’t about to say anything to stop him, Dean leaned in to finally kiss him.

Letting himself melt against Cas as he has always wanted to. Moving his hands to wrap around his waist, under the coat and jacket, to hold him close to his chest. Wanting more as Cas carefully rested his hands on his shoulders as if not knowing what to do with them but he was so confident in the kiss as he moved his lips along with his own with the same eagerness.

Then he pulled away too quickly as his hot breath tickled Dean’s lips. His bright eyes looking down at his lips then back at his eyes. “We have to go, Dean.”

“Okay,” Dean leaned down for a quick peek and he couldn’t stop his chuckle as Cas chased after his lips. “Let’s go save the world and then we can pick this up later. Deal?”

Cas nodded, flashing Dean a smile before he said, “Of course, Dean.”

“Guys! Come on!”

Dean takes Cas’s hand squeezing it before they raced back down the hall to meet up with Sam. A last chapter in Chuck’s story starting but they knew they had the power to write their own ending because they are real. This is real.

#Destiel #Deancas #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #My Writing #SPN Spoilers #s15 #I just pretty much ignored everything lol #also i needed a kiss so yay #i needed a lot of tears and forhead touches too #destiel fic #destiel first kiss #destiel fanfic #15x18 fic #spn coda 15x18 #coda fic #WormstacheWrites

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tigerdrop · 3 years

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so. this is my attempt at posting a 20k-word-long g/t frenrey RP that kogo and i were doing at the start of this year. its not finished and im not sure when were gonna pick it back up, since we are currently working on co-op game theory instead of a filthy RP that takes place like 100k words down the line of co-op game theory. but ive been sitting on it long enough so here u go

i never really planned on posting this anywhere so its really self-indulgent and not as polished as our usual stuff but look. this is a ludicrous amount of erotica im dropping here. cut me a lil slack

anyway, here it is: Gordon Gets A Xen Bath

Gordon tries to keep moving, but eventually his pace slows to a stop, his legs growing heavier and heavier until he can't bring himself to lift them.

"Okay. Okay," he pants, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees. "I can't fucking do this anymore, man! I'm tapped out! We've been walking all day - or, well, I have, I don't know about you. We can't... can't all be alien god fuckers, floating around or whatever." He pauses to catch his breath. Every muscle in his body aches from the strain of hopping around Xen in the HEV suit. Sure, gravity doesn't have quite as strong a hold here as it did back on Earth, and that makes all that metal easier to lug around, but it seems like time doesn't work the same way, either. Gordon can't tell how long it's been. Feels like days.

Smells like it, too, now that he's got a moment to breathe. He's covered in dirt and slime and congealed alien blood and God know what else. In short, he needs a fucking break. And Gordon aggressively takes one right then and there, dropping to his feet. What's the rush, anyway? "Like we're ever gonna find out way out of this fucking place," he mutters.

> Benrey watches as Gordon collapses, a pile of metal and smells. Odors. Sweat and dirt and tangled hair. His head tilts to the side but his expression remains flat as he lifts his head and gazes out into the vastness of Xen, before turning back to Gordon and furrowing his brow. They hadn't even gotten far, not really, so it doesn't really make sense that he'd just crumple like this.

> He sniffs, shuffling in a circle on his feet as Gordon bitches behind him--something about never escaping Xen, as if Benrey hadn't traveled from one end to the other to find him in the first place--and chews his lip in deep concentration, trying to think of literally anything that would maybe make the guy stop. Stop with the, uh, whining and whinging and "blah blah, we're not all alien god fuckers" or whatever.

> (Though, well, technically, Gordon was an alien god fucker anymore. Their time back with the space maggots and the gun bugs and that skinny doppelganger had seen them in a couple of situations where Gordon happily fucked an "alien god.")

> But. Wait. No. Mind wandering. Wandering to fun places, places more fun than being lost in Xen (though he's not lost; they'll find their way out eventually), but not anywhere useful. And, for once, he has to think along those boring terms. Being, you know, reliable or whatever.

> What matters is making Gordon go. The hamster wheel in his head turns and turns until the rodent is slung clear off and, with a slow blink, Benrey accepts defeat. Ideas are not his forte when he's actually trying to be helpful. He turns to his human, he tilts his head in the other direction, and he waits for his human to look up at him. Then, he speaks without even waiting for eye contact.

> "So, uh... what can best friend Benrey do to... make you. I dunno. Less dumb?"

> Nailed it. Benrey is getting good at this "empathy" thing.

Gordon drags his gaze up from the ground to Benrey, and immediately scrunches his eyebrows up. "Wow, that was almost nice of you," he says, a touch of genuine surprise in his voice. It doesn't outweigh the disdain, though. "You know what? Just don't do anything. The best thing you can do right now is to stand right there and do absolutely nothing... and let me just... catch my breath."

He hopes against hope that, for once, Benrey will do what he says. Despite all the evidence that suggests otherwise. His internal monologue turns a bit haggard. Well, it's not like there's anything he could do about it, anyway. Even if he was fit as a fiddle, if Benrey wanted to fuck off and get lost, there was no stopping him.

He can't hold Benrey's stare for long, though. It's-- it's always harder to look him right in the eye like this. Something about the size of him makes it uncomfortable, like he's staring right through Gordon. So he darts his eyes away, scanning his surroundings. The perils of an alien landscape: all the little islands and chunks of earth start to look the same after awhile. Rocks and strange, angry plants and pools of mysterious fluids. He's seen it all. There's a number of all these things and more around him, but the one thing he finds himself wishing for is something to eat. You can't trust anything out here.

"I just want a burger, man," Gordon groans. "Sick of jumping around like I'm playing some kind of platformer. You know, they never tell you how exhausting this shit is! My heart's-- my heart's racing-- like, adrenaline? Hate fucking jumping over these big-ass pits, I'm tellin' you."

Or, failing that, like, a nap. Or a bath. He vocalizes both of these things before burying his head in his hands. Maybe he could get one of those microsleeps going. If he can just calm the fuck down, anyway.

> Food? Nap? Bath?

> Benrey's mouth curls into a jagged smile. Of course Gordon would just need some of that weird, seemingly pointless human stuff. You would think after two grand adventures of dragging this sad sack around and listening to him complain every two meters, he'd have picked up on the human necessities. Things like 'burger" and "bed time" and "smelling like preferred smells, and not the natural smells that are apparently 'bad.'"

> A huge sigh heaves out of Benrey and he watches in amusement as it makes Gordon's hair puff out of his face. Small little tiny man, curled up on a chunk of rock, not able to embiggen and make things easier. It's sad and pathetic, almost as sad and pathetic as Gordon looks, but Benrey knows he's capable of being a good enough guy for the both of them. A real bro. A best friend.

> Because he knows Xen inside and out for some reason. And he's observant. He's seen things and can do the mental math necessary to figure out how to problem solve, sort of. He's spent enough time floating around Xen to figure out what those sparkly puddles do, and he's seen enough of those people back in the Wrong World eat the not-Lamarrs (or, at least the Vorti-bros did, which were close enough).

> And, well, Gordon could literally sleep anywhere. There was dirt for days, lots of rocks to align the spine. Fun nap places. Good for Gordon.

> With a burst of pride and dagger-toothed grin, Benrey propped his elbow on the island where Gordon was whining and held out his hand, palm up and flat, extended as an open invitation.

> "Oh. Uh. That it? That's, uh... that's a cool I can do. Big cool for you."

He stares, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? What do you mean, that's a-- What are you doing?"

> "I'm doing a cool," Benrey responds. Though his voice is still fairly flat, there is a bite to it, hidden almost completely under his monotone. As if to emphasize the point, he lifts his hand and slaps it back down into the earth once more in a way he thought was light. Judging from the way the ground shook and the island rocked, perhaps not as light as he'd imagined.

> "Gonna, uh... help. Or somethin'. You gettin' on or you gonna be a babyman about it?"

Gordon yelps as the ground shakes around him, even though he's (relatively) safe on the ground. "Jesus, Benrey! Watch it!"

What the hell is he doing? His eyes dart between Benrey's hand and face as the gears struggle to turn. It's been a long fucking day, all right, and Benrey's... Benrey-isms are hard enough to understand at the best of times. This is supposed to help, somehow. So, scratch the burger. And the nap, too, probably. So, does that mean he wants to--

No. That's stupid. He's stupid for thinking it. Gordon steadfastly ignores the way his ears prickle and shakes his head, like a dog ridding itself of water.

"Please tell me you're gonna just carry me the rest of the way," Gordon sighs. It's a visible effort for him to get back to his feet. "Hey, actually, why didn't you just do that from the get-go? You're not even breaking a sweat!"

He complains, sure, but it doesn't stop him from dizzily shuffling forward and stepping on. Better late than never. He'll have plenty of time to chew Benrey out for this once he's out of this alien hellscape and back in his own goddamn bed.

> Benrey blinks.

> Oh. Yeah. He probably could have carried Gordon, huh? The thought never really occurred to him at first because, well, why would it? Was he a bad guy--a bad friend--for believing that his bestest buddy was a capable man? Color him insensitive for actually expecting things of Gordon, but he'd just watched the guy win Space Invaders in real life.

> After that, traipsing through Xen should have been a walk in the park.

> Best not to point that out, though. Gordon may take offense and, for once in his life, he isn't out to make him mad. He's trying to be good, trying to carry that camaraderie they built from Shit World Without Sony Products back to Good World With Heavenly Sword. Highlighting Gordon's stupid human failings would only work to reset the karma he'd worked so hard to build up in their social link. Or, you know, however humans fucking worked.

> Instead, he lets Gordon crawl onto his hand and then turns away, wracking his mind for the last place he saw a good puddle. After all, it made sense to start with a bath, right? Eating while gross would make Gordon complain, and sleeping while gross wouldn't be much better. Drifting past island after island, his head swivels to see if maybe there are some good candidates going forward.

> And there's... really not. Testicle stalks. Pointy rocks. Less pointy rocks. Tit-on-stilts that is aggressively spitting little Lamarrs over the edge of a rock chunk that looks like Swiss cheese. Benrey isn't sure what it's hoping to accomplish, but it's sure as fuck not accomplishing it.

> Then, he sees it, in the distance: A glittering pool of blue that sparks like electricity and glitters like cheap body mist. A strange smell, not unlike Sweet Voice, wafts from its direction. It's certainly one of the Good Smells Humans Like. Gordon will love it.

> Wordlessly, he glides toward it. Gordon's smart. He'll know what he's getting at.

Benrey's not saying anything, which is mildly concerning, but he is looking around like he knows what he's looking for. And when Benrey fucks off, Gordon in tow - held in a grip that's a little looser than he likes - Gordon lets his brain wind down for the first time in... a long while. Flying around Xen like this is nervewracking, yeah, but in a way he's more equipped to handle. Benrey's chest at his back helps. It's solid as a wall and deceptively warm, and if he keeps himself pressed flat against it, he can almost forget about these bottomless pits they're flying over.

He lets Benrey go like that for an indeterminable amount of time. (He may have dozed off a little.) But Gordon comes back to himself once Benrey's velocity changes. Gets a bit more pointed. Eventually, Gordon puzzles out that he's heading for one island in particular, one with a shimmering pool on its surface. Not exactly what the endgame was.

Wait. Gordon's brain chugs. He was looking for... some kind of water? Oh, Christ.

"Wait, were you being serious about the bath thing?" he asks as they approach. "I-- I wasn't being that serious about it! Getting out of here kind of seems like the more important thing!"

> "Huh?"

> The word falls off of Benrey's lips despite the fact he actually heard everything Gordon said. He heard him and even registered him, but he just didn't get him. After all, he's fairly certain that Gordon wants a bath considering it was one of the big things that spewed out of his mouth when he was being all needlessly fussy before, so why isn't he just saying it? Owning up to it?

> Was it because it was a detour? Slowing them down? Or was it just Gordon being whatever-the-hell-Gordon-was?

> Yeah, that had to be it. Gordon just doesn't want to get side-tracked. That's fair, he supposes. Or, at the very least, he assumes that's what a human would consider fair, considering how obsessed with "time" and "schedules" and "fast" they all were.

> "Real quick dip," Benrey promises, hoping to put Gordon's mind at ease; it was a far cry from what he typically did, so he could only hope it landed properly, that he was saying the right things and had the right inflections. "Real fast. Get'cha all nice. Wet. Uh. Soaps and hygiene. You know."

"Oh my God, man, it's gonna be a whole fuckin' production!" Gordon agonizes as Benrey brings them to that strange, glittering watering hole. "Saving the world's kinda time-sensitive, you know? And it's always such a hassle getting in and out of this thing! And-- Okay, hold on, you actually want to-- Okay. Fine. Look, I'm just saying, this is weird even for you, Benrey!"

Soaps. Hygiene. You know. Letting his best frenemy peel him out of his suit so he can scrub him clean, like normal people do. A shiver runs down the back of Gordon's neck. There's gotta be some kind of catch, but honestly, he's having a hard enough time keeping up with events as they're written. If there's some kind of malicious subtext to this whole thing, well, that's not his problem. He's got more important things to worry about, like convincing Benrey that it would be a little more prudent to just keep forging on rather than waste valuable time on a bath.

...Unfortunately, he's close enough to smell whatever it is that wafts off the surface in waves, and it makes Gordon's resolve waver. It's a clean smell, warm and vaguely fruity, with an undercurrent of salinity. Like a shower that's just been used, almost. God, he'd really like that, wouldn't he.

> The words don't really have weight to them anymore. If Benrey had a nickel for every time Gordon called him "weird" or told him he was endangering the world by taking detours, he'd have enough nickels to melt them down and make a big-ass nickel. And, judging from the way even Gordon's mouth wasn't running anymore, it didn't seem like Gordon had put any weight into his own words, either.

> Which was good. Real good. It meant Benrey was doing a nice job of not pressing every one of Gordon's buttons like a kid in an elevator, and being a proper friend. Best friend. More than friend? God, he fucking wished.

> And he'd shut up right in the nick of time, too, because the urge to tease is building up inside of Benrey like pressure in a flaming aerosol can. It's hard not to want to pick at him when Gordon is griping like this, just goading him on with his (strangely cute) bullshit. Benrey mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done as he glides to the edge of the island and leans carefully over the tiny expanse of mottled dirt and glittering water.

> "S'fine. You're fine. S'gonna be fine. Just cleanin' you up, makin' you pretty. Like a good friend. Best friend."

> The water bubbles against the back of his hand as he extends it, dangling Gordon over the surface so he can get a good look at it himself. Maybe, with the proper viewing, he'll realize that this will be a pleasant time all around. Good for him. Fun for Benrey. Bonding experience.

> "Gonna make you, uh, real shiny. Polished. A, ah, regular... Casa... Casa del Nova."

> With that, he hooks a nail under one of the thigh pieces of the HEV suit and waits, eyes resting on Gordon's face in search of approval. Approval he selfishly hopes comes quick, before reflex takes over and he pops it off regardless.

Gordon peers over the edge of Benrey's hand to look down at the water, where it lies placid and clear and a vivid blue-green. Mysterious bubbles aside. It's... it's like one of those pools at Yellowstone, he thinks dizzily. They look so warm and inviting and then you step in and suddenly your flesh is deciding to melt right off of you. Gordon's stomach swoops unpleasantly.

Then Benrey offhandedly mentions making him pretty, as if he were just trying to sell Gordon on a new restaurant, and it swoops for an entirely different reason. An irritating reason.

"Don't just fucking say things like that," he says hotly, his voice pitching up and cracking from nerves.

But it becomes an afterthought in short order when Gordon feels Benrey's nail tugging at his HEV suit, and he realizes that Benrey's very, very serious about this. Especially when he fixes Gordon with that intent stare. Like he's waiting for something. Permission? It must be, since he's not making any moves to pop off the armor on his thigh. Gordon looks down at Benrey's finger, chipped black paint peeking out from the corners, then back up at Benrey.

Oh, fuck this. He hates when Benrey does this. It's one of those mind games, or something. Make Gordon be the one to make the call, like it's a game of chicken and Benrey's trying to get him to lose. Instead of, you know, not derailing his entire fucking journey in the first place with the suggestion of a bath. One where, well, it does smell really nice. And he can feel the ambient heat from the water from his perch on Benrey's palm. And Benrey's offering to pry him out of his suit and, presumably, do the washing for him. So Gordon doesn't have to move a muscle. Or even think about it.

His face twists and turns its way through a melange of emotions before he decides, fuck it. Even if this is weird, and Benrey's probably playing some kind of 4-dimensional chess, his mind's already sold itself on the idea. So Gordon's tongue darts out to wet his lips, mouth unexpectedly dry.

"I-- Okay-- You know what, fine. We're already here. Just... no, fucking, tricks or jokes or whatever, man. If you leave me on some fucking rock with my dick out, I'm going to kill you," Gordon tells Benrey.

> What Benrey wants to say is that Gordon is being a baby. A bitch, even. There's no reason for him to get all flustered and pissy when they've already done so many things together. Things that only the closest of bros do, like take down a hostile invading force and push their dicks together and make out. But instead, Benrey takes a deep and steady breath as he works his nails deeper under the chassis of the HEV suit and tugs up with a satisfying click as the latches come undone and the thigh piece flops uselessly off of Gordon.

> "Cool."

> He moves onto the next section, eyes narrowing and eyebrows knitting above his nose as he looks down at Gordon and tries to focus. Head empty, aside from trying to figure out how in the hell he's actually supposed to undo all the delicate bits with fingers as big as his human. It was easier when he was small, and he supposes he could be small again, but that would be no fun. Perhaps he could just rip it off of Gordon with his teeth like the top of a sardine can, but it would be even less fun to deal with the little guy yelling at him for hours.

> Getting Gordon's goat was fun and all, but god, did the guy know how to harp on a subject like no other person he'd ever met.

> Instead, Benrey's tongue pokes out between his fangs as he presses the tip of his finger against the inside of Gordon's other thigh and lets his fingernail search for the seam, the latch. He cocks his head like an owl and leans down close enough that Gordon could touch his face, heaving out a huge and uncharacteristically irritated breath. From here, he can smell the musky odor of sweat and dirt and grime and alien goo, and it's strangely nice. Earthy. Very Gordon.

> He'd smelled it before, when he wasn't quite this big, when Gordon was unzipping his suit and climbing into his lap and drool pools at the corner of Benrey's mouth, equal parts saliva and lusty Sweet Voice and--

> Click.

> The other piece of thigh armor falls away. The noise shakes Benrey to his senses.

> "Turn please," he orders mindlessly. His voice is a bit more husky and demanding than it had been a moment before.

Gordon watches as Benrey pops off his armor like it's nothing, like Gordon hasn't spent hours fruitlessly trying to do the same himself. It would have saved him the constant indignity of relying on Benrey to get him in and out of the fucking thing. He tries really hard not to think about the indignity of this, too - Benrey's face so close to his, a hot, irritable breath fanning over him, and fingers at his--

Oh. Gordon jumps a little at the insistent press of a fingertip against his inner thigh, and heat rushes to his face. This part's mildly embarrassing at the best of times, when Benrey's smaller and more human-sized, but now? With fingers much too big for the job? Spreading his legs apart where he sits, rubbing insistently against his inner thigh... He can't help the shaky breath that forces its way out of him.

Jesus Christ, his hands are big, Gordon thinks, mind racing. Sure, yes, he's had this thought before, when Benrey was using them to slap gunships out of the air, but it's a little more pointed when they're prodding him like this. He tenses. Not entertaining these thoughts today, thank you. The whole point of this, presumably, was for a normal, ordinary bath. In a pool of mysterious alien water. With his rival stripping him down and scrubbing him. While he's so big that he could squish Gordon like a bug, if he wanted... or pick Gordon up and maneuver him around, broad fingers all over him, sizing him up. If he wanted.

He comes back to himself when he hears a command. Turn please. Quick and insistent. Gordon's eyes jerk away from where they'd been staring at Benrey's finger.

"Turn? Like, fucking-- God, ow--" Gordon hisses through his teeth as the motion twists one of his aching muscles the wrong way. "I don't even know why I'm doing this. It's not like this was stopping you... You know, I'm starting to think you just like bossing people around for no fucking reason." Despite his bitching, he does as he's told.

> Maybe he does like it. The bossing, that is. Benrey isn't sure. It's one of the few human things he knows--his job back at Black Mesa--and it's one of those things he's good at. Usually. At least now he feels good at it, with Gordon actually listening to him.

> He watches as Gordon turns, head shifting to tilt in the other direction, watching as his human trustingly turns his back to him and displays himself in a way that makes more Sweet Voice seep from between his teeth. He sniffs, he uses the back of his free hand to wipe away a trickle of fluorescent fluid trailing from his lips, and quickly wipes his hands off on his pants. His eyes never leaves Gordon's back.

> Lower back.

> His ass.

> Benrey had told him before that it was a nice one, and it was still true... uh, even if he can't really see it with Gordon sitting and all. He can imagine it in its entirety, though, nice and small, even as he fumbles with the latches on the back of the chest piece. He hardly notices as he clicks it open and the front hits the pad of his palm with an audible slap of metal against skin. He reaches around to pluck it away, the side of his hand brushing against Gordon's front.

> Gordon's heaving chest. His soft midsection. His...

> Benrey shakes his head as if snapping himself out of a trance. An involuntary laugh snorts out of his nose as he leans down, peeking over Gordon's shoulder like a creeping dragon, breath hot against the back of Gordon's neck.

> "Cute."

> And with that, he grabs the next part of Gordon: his arm, raising it up effortlessly like a doll's and carefully searching for the next latch.

Maybe facing away from Benrey wasn't the smartest idea, in retrospect. It feels like he's closer, somehow, his breath coming hotter and faster against Gordon's back. Benrey breathing down his neck should be, like, gross. Creepy. Gordon knows by now that Benrey likes to make a big deal about keeping them clean, but it's not like he knows when Benrey brushed last. It shouldn't smell... like that. Sweet. A distinct chemical note on the underside. Like ketones on his breath, but nothing that Gordon can place for certain.

Sweet Voice, probably. It's muted and subtle. He's not belting it out like he usually does, so Gordon can only guess what Benrey's feeling. Unfortunately, he's all too aware of what he's feeling: goosebumps, pebbling his skin from the neck down. A little frisson. They crawl all the way down his arms and make him shiver. He can practically feel Benrey's eyes on him, too, all up close and personal. Don't break a sweat, he wills himself, because he knows Benrey's watching him like a hawk.

It doesn't stop a bead from pooling at the back of his hairline, then losing the fight against gravity and slowly trickling down his neck.

Benrey snorts, and Gordon flinches, cursing under his breath. He couldn't even have that, huh. Then Benrey has the audacity to call him cute. And that makes his blood pulse, briefly flashing his skin with heat, before receding just as quickly and leaving a chill in its wake.

"Wh-- Whoa, okay," Gordon starts. His indignant response is temporarily cut off by Benrey lifting his arm between a thumb and forefinger. He offers about as much resistance as a fucking action figure, even creaking a little for good measure, and it's distracting, okay?

After a few moments, though, he regains his bearings. "Shut up, man," he says, flustered. "I'm not even-- Just-- Quit being weird, okay?" Because, frankly, this is weird. He's not used to Benrey being so... accommodating. Helpful. Nice. And he doesn't know what Benrey's endgame is, here. So it just leaves Gordon feeling off-kilter. Uncertain. A little hot in the face.

> Benrey's eyes flick up like a lizard that's spotted its next meal when he hears Gordon's words, conveniently at the same time as he finds the latch with his nail. The armor on his upper arm falls away with a clonk and his fingers move down to the much-easier-to-remove gloves and wrist pieces, which come undone with a light twist and an even lighter yank. But his gaze isn't even looking at what he's doing, instead resting on the back of Gordon's hair, now wet with sweat and the dampness of his own breath.

> His skin is raised up in little bumps, and so are his hackles. Something bright and violet and base, fluorescent, builds at the back of Benrey's tongue, and he swallows it down. He has to focus, keep his composure. Get the other arm with a few quick clicks, fingers now more adventurous than they were before. The pads trail across Gordon's back, the undersuit bunching with his touch, pressing into his side for no reason other than the urge to feel. Then, when the second arm is freed, he remembers he forgot the boots.

> "Not being weird," Benrey protests as he wrangles Gordon in his grip, sighing heavily as he pinches him lightly in his grasp and rolls him in his hand like some kind of trinket. Until they're face to face once again and Gordon is flat on his back in his palm. He takes a moment to idly scratch his chin before reaching for the metal encasing his lower legs and feet.

> "Not weird to, uh, help a bro out. Be a friend. Friends call friends cute. All the time. Every day. S'pre... pre-requi... prere..." He pauses and stills and, then, with unwarranted confidence, forces the word out and continues fiddling. "It's pre-registered to, uh, do that. Yeah."

Blunt fingers at his arm, his back, his sides, prodding and rolling him around - each investigatory touch makes Gordon cognizant of just how much he's holding his breath. Until Benrey manhandles him into laying flat on his back, that is. A startled noise bursts out of him, and then Gordon's looking straight up at Benrey, with nowhere to go to escape him. Even without a hand pinning him down, he can't help but feel like he's stuck in place, anyway.

At least Gordon can sit up on his elbows a little. Less like he's some kind of specimen that way. And he lets Benrey fiddle with the boots, the strange feeling that curls in his stomach easing up on him the longer Benrey messes with something other than his soft, fleshy, vulnerable bits. He lets out a shaky breath of... relief. Let's go with that.

"IIII don't know about that," he says. "I'll be real with you, I'm not the kind of guy who does that... Uh. Well. Except there was that one time in high school? But it kind of weirded her out and she stopped talking to me."

Gordon pauses for a moment, brows wrinkling in thought. Then he shakes himself. "Anyway, that's not even the point. The point is," Gordon emphasizes, feeling like he's trying to present a convincing legal argument to a judge with all the size and breadth of (and possibly, the powers of) some ancient Greek god, "I think you have a, uh, tenuous grasp of what friendship entails, buddy. My friends don't call me cute."

As an afterthought, under his breath, he adds, "Nobody calls me cute." It comes out more bitter than he expects.

> The boots come off, one after another. The shin guards, too. Politely, Benrey scoops up all the miscellaneous pieces piled in his palm between his free fingers and puts them to rest next to the pool of... well, "water." Liquid. Something, though he's hard pressed to tell you exactly what it is. "The Bath."

> He listens as he does so, to Gordon squawking and muttering and saying, well, things. Things that he's not really listening to as he brings his hands back up to Gordon and tries to figure out where the zipper to the bodysuit is. Technically, he knows where it is, but his fingers are huge and the zippy-uppy part is so small, and he's prodding and poking with gentle strokes along Gordon's chest and belly where he saw the seam once-upon-a-time. He feels his nail click against the metal and it's... uh, well, it's aggravating.

> And Benrey isn't used to this kind of aggravation. Fuck's sake, he just wants to see some dic... ah. He just wants to help his best friend get a nice bath and feel better. Because he is a good guy who does good things like kill gun bugs for tiny dudes who can't shoot straight and not drive off with vehicles when Gordon leaves him alone. He's a good guy who doesn't want to be bad and--

> "Uh," he drawls, his mouth moving before he can really catch himself, "fuckin'... maybe people would call you cute if you, uh, weren't such a, uh, mean. So mean about it. Mean to me, just trying to say nices. To my best friend. Being such a good and a cool."

> His voice dies as he misses the zipper again. Fuck. When he speaks again, it darkens.

> "Please unzip suit? Please? Thank-you."

Soon enough Benrey's got him down to that reinforced bodysuit, the last piece of armor sliding off his hand with little resistance. Usually, this is where this process stops: Benrey gets him out of the armor, and Gordon fucks off and does whatever it is he needs to do. Change. Wash up. Sleep. The part where Benrey starts tugging at the fabric in search of the zipper? That's new. And it catches Gordon so unawares that he can't even speak.

That fingertip strokes him, almost, warm even through the black fabric, and a harsh breath whistles through Gordon's nose. It feels him up from his chest to his belly, a warm and insistent pressure. All the words in Gordon's brain get trapped in a mental sieve. In their place is a single, repeating thought:

Oh, God.

Benrey keeps trying, again and again, fingernails scraping uselessly against Gordon's belly. And his eyebrows furrow harder with the effort, frustration evident in his frown. And his fingers. Their grasping grows rough and imprecise and Gordon's trying so hard to bite his lip because there's an ugly noise threatening to punch his way out of him and Benrey's saying something to him that he can barely focus on and then finally, finally, he's giving up and pulling away. Christ.

It takes a moment for his mental fog to clear and for Benrey's words to sink in. Unzip? Himself? Oh, no. Somehow that's worse.

"Can you, like... give me some privacy, maybe?" Gordon complains.

He immediately feels stupid afterward. It trickles down from his scalp like something cold and slimy. So he clears his throat, and admits, begrudging, "I, uh... I'm not trying to be mean. It's been a long fucking day, okay? You're... uh... Well. Thanks. I guess. For trying to be nice."

There's a beat before the silence gets to be too uncomfortable, and Gordon hurriedly follows it up by saying, "Don't take this the wrong way. I think you could still use a few pointers on being 'nice' to 'humans', you know."

> "Wha?"

> In a second, the irritation is gone. Benrey's expression turns flat. He leans in close to Gordon and inhales deeply (yup, still smells like Gordon) and exhales just as hard.

> "I'm nice," he defends, eyes flicking down the pile of HEV parts on the island. "Fuckin', ah, Mother Tuh-ree-sah. You're the one who is bein'--"

> A pause. Nice. He was being nice, and he wasn't going to pick at Gordon. He wasn't going to point out that he was the one being snippy, while he was out here undressing him, and carrying him around, and getting ready to give him a bath, and maybe touch his--

> Wait.

> "Privacy?"

> The word tastes bad, real bad. The kind of bad that makes Benrey want to scrape his tongue off on his teeth. That isn't how they'd played these games before. Is this even still a game, though? Did "nice" contradict "games" too much? He isn't sure and he doesn't even give himself a chance to think about it as he nudges Gordon encouragingly with a finger and the words just start rolling out of his mouth.

> "No? No place to private at, bro. Maybe gonna have to just, ah, suck it up, friend. Besides--"

> Benrey leans forward on the island on his elbow, chin resting in his hand. As his body tilts, Gordon raises higher up due to his shifting of positions.

> "Can't, ah, can't not look. Dinosaurs and, uh, zombies out here. Ghosts. Gotta keep my eye on you. Safe-tee."

Safety. Right. As much as Gordon doesn't want to admit it, Benrey has a point. He's... vulnerable like this. And it would be just his luck that he gets beset by a peeper puppy with his dick hanging out. More to the point, he knows that it's stupid to develop a sense of modesty all of a sudden when Benrey's seen his dick before. It's just, you know, the size. The scrutiny.

Heat lodges itself in Gordon's face and makes a home there as Benrey brings him all the closer. As if to see him better. "Dinosaurs and zombies," he snorts. He can't believe that's the justification Benrey's giving him. And he can't believe he's buying it.

"Just... fucking, okay. Don't stare, at least," Gordon tells him, as if it will help.

The zipper's nestled in the seam at his neck, right in the center. Gordon fishes it out with shaky fingers. And then, slowly, he drags it down his front.

As he does, his flesh starts to spill from the suit in a creamy sliver. He's paler underneath, skin shielded from the sun for so long that his characteristic tan has all but faded. Consequences of running around in a HEV suit in the middle of Bulgaria. The rattle of the zipper rings in Gordon's ears, louder than life. First his chest, then his stomach, prickling with goosebumps in turn as they're revealed.

Finally, he pulls it down to its endpoint, just under his navel. Gordon's face burns with embarrassment.

> That... was easier than Benrey anticipated. Usually there's more resistance or, you know, playing involved whenever he asked Gordon to do something like that. Usually he had something a little more snide to say. Something in the air has changed, though, and he dimly wonders if maybe all of that advice he'd taken from the Resistors (Resistance? Transistors? Alyx, basically) has actually paid off.

> Learning how to human does, in fact, make interacting with Gordon easier.

> His pupils widen as he stares, mouth slightly agape, as more and more of Gordon's skin is revealed to him, a pretty porcelain color that looks incredibly soft and as delicate as a china doll. Usually he's darker, tanner; Benrey didn't know humans could change colors like that, but it's an interesting development and one that requires further investigation.

> So he leans closer, head tilted, watching the zipper come undone. Curiosity grips him as he gingerly reaches up and hooks his nails into the open edges of the suit and tugs, enough to jostle Gordon and peel away the wrapper but not enough to actually knock Gordon off his feet. As he does so, he ignores the sounds of protests, mouth opening wider and lifting in a sharkish grin.

> He's so pale now, but he's just as soft as Benrey remembers. Just as warm. Hair's still in all the right places, muscles in his arms growing visible as Benrey tugs the sleeves down, then the rest, leaving the top half of the bodysuit dangling from around his still-covered waist.

> He waits a moment, drinking in the sight. He could almost see his--

> No. No. No dick thinking, not now. No. He wasn't going to say anything because he was seriously just trying to be nice. And make Gordon shut up. And...

> And...

> "Cute."

> The word comes out while his brain is still arguing with himself. For a moment, he considers apologizing, or trying to pretend he never said it, but ultimately decides to stand by what he said.

> His eyes lift to rest on Gordon's face as he silently doubles down, waiting for a reply.

"Hey, careful," Gordon yelps, caught off-guard by fingers at the edges of his open suit. "You don't have to fucking-- Benrey, I can do this myself!" But there's no fighting him off before Benrey's tugging it down his shoulders, baring him from the waist up.

Impatient. That's the word that comes to mind. Benrey's itching to get him out of this thing, Gordon realizes. If it wasn't already obvious by that insistent scrape of nails against his jumpsuit, or the way Benrey's looking at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted. That heat in Gordon's cheeks crawls down to his chest. He's staring at Gordon like he's hungry, and all the pasty skin being revealed to him may as well be a juicy T-bone steak. Being half-naked ought to be making him pretty chilly in a place like this, but for some reason, it feels way too fucking hot right now.

Thankfully, Benrey stops there, which gives him a moment to get his bearings. On the other hand, Benrey's calling him fucking cute again, and Gordon was having a bad enough time handling that earlier. Now? Jesus, the guy's barely paying attention to him. Mumbling it like it's an afterthought. He doesn't know what it means.

"I-- I'm not fucking cute, dude, we already established this," he insists, doing his level best not to meet Benrey's stare. Gordon folds his arms, irritable and flushed a bright red. "I'm too mean or whatever. I got the picture. You don't have to keep fucking with me."

> Oh, he's changing colors again. Red now, from the tips of his ears down to his chest, and Benrey snorts a laugh. Of course humans can change colors. He'd seen him do this before. A few times actually.

> But he's just turning red, and being snippy, and he's not making a move to take off the rest of the suit. Benrey's eyes flick from Gordon to the water and, with a low chuckle, he decides to take the cue. Which... was a cue, right? He's pretty sure it's a cue, but humans were weird to begin with and Gordon was odder than most.

> Has to be a cue, he decides after a moment of silence wherein Gordon doesn't budge. He grabs the draping top of the suit and gently peels it downwards towards Gordon's feet, watching it pull away from sweaty, dirty skin. Watching it expose dark curls of hair just below his stomach, and watching Gordon's dick spill out into the open air. Benrey's teeth dig into his lips as he watches, even as his hands move clumsily to strip the rest of the rubbery material off of his legs.

> He's touched that before. Wants to touch it again, wants to say something about it. But he can't because apparently it was bad form to say shit about your best bro's average-but-good meat when he wasn't specifically asking, or at least that's what his stupid, skinny doppelganger had said and--

> God. Wait. No. He shakes his head. Best to focus on anything else.

> What else had the Resist-y Squad said? To listen? Humans liked listening? Even when they were being bitchy little drama-snots?

> Then he should... listen, right? But... what had Gordon said? He wasn't actually paying attention. He furrows his brow and his stare intensifies as he tries to piece together enough of the words he did hear to paint a picture. It takes a moment, but soon, it clicks.

> Oh. Yeah. Not cute. Blah, blah. Something, something "mean."

> Benrey's mouth snaps shut as he struggles to tear his eyes away from Gordon's cock, instead keeping a trained eye on his face. His mind is a machine running on fumes with rattling parts, but he struggles through the distraction. He's going to be reassuring. He's a good friend.

> "Uh... yeah? Mean? Cute? You can be both. Bratty little, ah, Gordon Meanman with his nice... cute. Cute little hog."

> The words come out before he can stop them.

> Goddammit.

Oh, God, okay, so none of what he said got through, clearly. He squawks out as much. Gordon's mind spins into overdrive as Benrey manifestly does not let him take care of it himself, instead peeling the jumpsuit clean off his hips and legs and exposing him from top to bottom. His heart thunders in his chest, and he presses his legs tightly together in a futile attempt at modesty.

"My-- my cute little-- Jesus Christ, Benrey, you can not say shit like like that!" Gordon snaps. He jams his hands between his legs to cover himself, humiliation boiling over.

Fucking Benrey. Always saying the worst possible shit, the most embarrassing shit. Gordon thinks this as furiously as he can, because if he acknowledges that there's anything other than purestrain embarrassment and indignation at play, he's gonna snap like a twig. That's all it is. He's a normal guy, and normal guys don't feel their dicks twitch when their best friend calls their dick cute. And... little. That's worse. Much worse.

The thing that Gordon's still failing to understand is why Benrey's still calling him cute. Yeah, it gets his goat, but it's not like Benrey was in the habit of pulling this shit before. And... And Gordon doesn't know why it's getting to him so much, either.

The first time seemed like a prank. A bad joke. The second time, an accident. And the third - fourth - fifth? The times after that, he's not sure anymore. But each time it gets his skin burning hotter and his heart skipping a beat and Gordon's still pissed off but he's not sure exactly why. (Well, in the general sense. This time, it's because Benrey's straight up insulting his dick, thank you.)

"Why did I even agree to this," he moans, head hanging between his shoulders. "Everything's always gotta be a big fucking ordeal for Gordon. You know what, just put me down if you're gonna-- gonna make fun of my meat or whatever! I'll get myself a bath and then we can go and forget this ever happened."

> There is something about the way Gordon fusses at him that makes Benrey's heart skip a beat, though it also awakens something in the back of his mind that he's been consciously trying to tamp down. The urge to pick at him grows as large as his smile as he hooks two fingers under Gordon's arms and lifts him up and out of his palm like a claw in a skill crane. Words dance on the tip of his tongue, ones better fit for a schoolyard bully, and he rumbles a dark laugh as he contemplates what to say.

> It seems the crack about his hog got him all worked up in a delicious sort of way, judging from the way he's still bright crimson and his dick seems appreciative of Benrey's attention. He could double down on that. Then again, he was supposed to be nice in this situation, wasn't he? He'd been doing so good up until this point, and he could imagine the Resist-y People would be proud if they could see him now.

> But the reaction. It's... it's good. Seeing Gordon's dick twitch, seeing him bright as a tomato, seeing him sweating and nervously dodging his gaze. All were signs that he was interested, that he may just be thinking the same things Benrey has been trying not to think and... fuck, them's good thoughts. Great thoughts.

> Maybe there's a line to walk between. Play the game and still be "nice." Benrey wets his lips and huffs a sweet-scented laugh into Gordon's face, before gently lowering him into the water. The surface of the pool practically sparks as Gordon's bare feet make contact, and a shimmering azure mist billows into the air.

> "Nuh-uh. Nope," Benrey replies with a pop of the p. "You're, uh, tired. Gonna, y'know, get you sparkly. Clean. Squeaky. Pretty. Make you feel so good you'll, uh, wanna buy BFF necklaces after."

> Once Gordon is nestled in the pool, he leans down close and presses down on his shoulders to urge him into a seated position.

> "'Sides, ah. Not making fun. S'nice. Cute. Fun size."

> Emphasis on "fun," Benrey thinks, and his smile widens.

A tingle effervesces across Gordon's skin as Benrey slowly lowers him into the water, something like carbonation but not quite. For one, bubbles aren't nucleating on him so much as drifting toward the surface, sluggish and small. But the effect is as curiously refreshing as a cold glass of Pepsi.

In contrast, the water itself is warm and clear, and the humidity fogs up his glasses in short order. Makes it hard to see Benrey before he's firmly suggesting that Gordon sit down. With his hand. He's not expecting it, and he sinks to his knees with a splash and a quiet "whoa, shit".

Gordon rights himself, sitting back against the edge of the pool. And he opens his mouth to say-- well, something, you know, there was a lot to unpack in whatever the fuck Benrey just said to him, but he barely gets it out before Benrey's talking over him.

Cute. Fun size.

"Stop, okay, just stop talking about my meat! Can we please move on? Any other topic?" He crosses his arms in front of his face.

This is, it's too fucking much, okay, there's-- it's just-- the word was already starting to crawl under his skin, and he's just an average American male! You're not supposed to say this shit to another dude! And you're not supposed to, fucking, swallow and shudder when you hear that shit, either. Not supposed to like being talked down to like that. By... by such a big guy. Who probably does think he's a fun size right now. Probably wants to...

Gordon splashes his face with water. Then he takes off his glasses after the fact, feeling like an idiot. See, this is why he's got to get Benrey to knock it off. Too much. Gets him lost in his own head. Gets his blood pumping. And the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself by looking a gift horse in the mouth, getting a boner when Benrey's just trying to do him a solid.

Well. At least that's what he's saying he's doing. The jury's still out on that one. But either way, the most likely outcome is that Benrey never lets him live it down, and Gordon doesn't know if he can handle the psychological devastation right now. So.

"Here, look, I'll even... okay, so, what is this stuff, anyway? It feels like I'm taking a bath in a... a hot energy drink. But like, in a good way?" He cups some in his hand and lets it spill through his fingers. "Last time I jumped in this stuff, I think it fixed a bone. Is that normal? Weirdest fucking thing I ever felt, man."

> "I 'unno," Benrey answers honestly. Because, well, he doesn't know what this stuff is. Even if he knows a lot about Xen (and would be hard-pressed to tell you exactly how he knows these things), it's not like he knew much more than "this thing will eat you" and "this thing won't." All he knows is that these pools feel good and smell good and do things that are good, and could more than likely get Gordon clean. Make him have a more agreeable scent than the already agreeable people-odor he's already wearing.

> The Gordon smell. It's... a nice smell.

> "It's water. Uh. Bubbles." Benrey dips his fingertips in the pool to wet them and feels the curious, sparkling sensation around his skin; it's warm and cold and fizzy and, honestly? Yeah, kind of refreshing. Like caffeinated Pop Rocks or something. He dimly wonders what it tastes like, but ultimately decides not to drink the bath water.

> "Doesn't matter. You're thinking a lot. About wrong things. Need to focus on, uh, getting you ready. For the ball. Gordo-rella." He pauses, scowling. That was bad even for him. Quickly, he recovers, as if it never happened. "So, quiet? Please? Relax?"

> With that, Benrey extends one wet finger and presses against Gordon's chest, as carefully as he can, working in the glittering water and scrubbing gingerly at his chest hair. He works his muscles with a care he didn't know he possessed, and then maneuvers to his shoulders. He feels Gordon's muscles loosening underneath his touch and it makes him feel... accomplished.

> But his eyes keep straying down, down into the water where Gordon's dick should be, obscured by bubbles and blue. And he exhales, fighting the urge to press a button, to raise him up and see if it's still twitching in anticipation, wondering if he'll see it break the surface and greet him.

> Benrey's eyes screw shut and his fingers still as he takes a moment to force himself to be, as Gordon would say, "normal." It is a foreign feeling.

> He is not a fan.

"G-Gordo-rella?" Gordon bursts out laughing despite himself. "That's so bad, I know you can do better than that!" And the funny thing is, he does know. Benrey's got jokes. He's... good at making Gordon laugh. Even when he's clearly phoning it in.

The laughter sets him at ease for the first time since they'd set out the day before. And when Benrey reaches out to start scrubbing, Gordon flinches, but does as Benrey suggests and eventually relaxes into it.

Benrey's strangely quiet as he does it. Doesn't make any dumb quips. Doesn't start talking about video games or whatever. So Gordon doesn't feel inclined to break the silence, either. The meaner part of him insists that it's just because he doesn't want to set Benrey off on some dipshit tangent, but the truth is, it's kind of nice. The quiet. Even if it's bordering on surreal. All he can hear is the quiet sound of Benrey washing his skin, dipping his fingers into the water. His breathing, measured but heavy. And the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

The bath itself isn't half-bad, either. He didn't expect Benrey to be this... careful. Not a word Gordon really associates with the guy. But Benrey's fingers work his muscles in tight circles, slow and firm, washing off however many days of sweat and dirt and blood, and Gordon's finds himself melting a little. Letting his eyes drift shut.

He groans when Benrey works his thumb into his back just right, dislodging a knot in the muscle he wasn't even aware of until it was gone. "Oh my God, how did you do that," Gordon breathes.

> Oh. Oh.

> That noise was a... nice one. A pleasant one. One that makes Benrey hesitate for a second and lose his smile before quickly regaining it and pretending he'd never misplaced it in the first place. And he figures Gordon likely didn't notice--his human can't see without the glasses--so he says nothing as he dips his fingers yet again and massages into Gordon's shoulders, exploring every inch and feeling how bizarre every groove and curve is underneath the pad of his finger.

> It's odd, but not a bad odd. The kind of odd that requires further investigation because, while he's had his hands on Gordon before, this feels different. Better, even, in some ways. Motivated by equal parts curiosity and mounting desire, he continues to glide across Gordon's skin and work his muscles and feel them loosen and pause to take in the rapid thudding of Gordon's tiny, tiny pulse against his skin.

> Benrey swallows the Sweet Voice pooling in the back of his mouth. He gags. He coughs into his shoulder. His voice breaks a bit as his normally flat demeanor begins to falter amid a mob of intrusive thoughts that march right into his brain like little soldiers.

> "Can do it 'cause 'm not human. Got magic fingers. Call now. For $19.99, we'll throw in a second one free," Benrey recites, but his eyes are still looking for a hint of cock. But not just that--

> "Limited time offer. Supplies going fast. Better, uh, pick up that phone."

> -- his chest, bits of leg sticking out of the water, that pretty neck, that long hair--

> "Call in, uh, next fifteen minutes and I'll... uh..."

> --that stomach, slightly soft around the middle, and arms that were too strong for somebody of his persuasion--

> "Uh."

> -- every inch that HEV suit wouldn't let him see. Gordon would look so much better in something more... breezy. Clingy. Revealing.

> "Fuck," he says breathily. Something roils inside him, and a lot of it is unfortunately roiling below the belt. So much for subtlety. So much for "nice."

Benrey keeps scrubbing, keeps rubbing his sore muscles between thumbs and index fingers, and it takes a conscious effort for Gordon not to doze off. Even the prickling of fizzy bubbles against his skin fights an upward battle to keep him awake. It's just, he's been on the go for way too long, now, and days of tension are leaching out of him, and Benrey's, like, weirdly good at this. For once, Gordon doesn't have to be thinking about parallel universes and the end of the fucking world or whatever. Somebody else can do the thinking for him.

And then he starts rambling about magic fingers like he's hosting some kind of infomercial and Gordon's laugh comes easier and harder than it has any right to. But Benrey's trailing off now, distracted. Swearing under his breath. Gordon blinks open his eyes and glances up at him.

Despite his lack of glasses, Benrey's big enough (and close enough) that Gordon can make out most of his expression, even if it's fuzzy and indistinct. His mouth hangs open a little, and his brows are knotted up under the cast shadow of his helmet. Like he's thinking about something.

"Free shipping?" Gordon finishes his joke for him. Benrey must have lost his train of thought again. Gordon's mostly used to it... mostly.

He shrugs and rolls his shoulders from side to side, grunting and making small, quiet noises as he stretches. Man, that feels good. There must be something in the water, even if Benrey was, as usual, unhelpful as to what.

Finally, Gordon decides to tug out the band from his hair, spilling it loose over his shoulders. He snaps it around his wrist for safekeeping, then runs his hands through his hair to shake it out.

"Uh. While we're at it. Think you could get my hair later? Like, I don't know where you got the soap from, but I'm assuming you can just, like, magic up some conditioner or something, too."

> Benrey doesn't know how to tell Gordon he didn't actually have soaps. He said so, but he... he didn't. If not for Gordon pointing out that he could "magic" some up, he might have been really stuck, but with a quick shake of his head to bring himself back to his senses, his face lights up once more with a teasing smile and his tone eases back into his typical taunting monotone.

> "Uh. Yeahs. Soaps and, uh, condo-stuff. Got'cha."

> There is a flash of green as he lifts his hand above him (in a dramatic way that he hopes is as cool and impressive as it looks in his head), and feels something slimy manifest in his hands. Slimy and, well, scented like a Glade plug-in. Like flowers and "summer breezes" and things that are a lot more Earth-y than the Sweet Voice. It's a nice color, too, but one that doesn't match how he feels it should look, because it smells more like blue than it does white and...

> ... You know what? It doesn't matter.

> Benrey dips a fingertip in the soap like a child about to paint and, tongue poking out between his teeth once more, sets to work giving Gordon a once-over yet again. He hopes that maybe Gordon won't notice or point out the fact he hadn't even used soap in the first place, as distracted as he was, and just accept the fact that Benrey is once more rubbing his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his legs. Lifting up limbs and maneuvering them to get into hard-to-reach places. Pushing a little firmer than before to feel for that fluttering pulse.

> God, his own heart is beginning to match it beat for beat.

> "Yeah," Benrey mutters at long last as his tongue darts back into his mouth, "I can. Do that. Get your hair."

> His hair. His hair is so pretty when it's down, already having grown out after he cut it in the Bad Ending World. Silky and nice with bits of gray that make him look like he's as smart as he thinks he is--

> No, no. Nice. Nice. He is grappling with the idea of being nice!

> "Get your hair with, uh, real shit. Good shampoo. Actual soaps and stuff that ain't, uh, the stuff. Your stuff. Head and Shoulders. Make you look real good, real nice. Nice for m--uh."

> He pauses. He snaps his mouth shut. He pauses over Gordon's body and thinks for a moment. He wants to say it, he wants to tease and pick and make Gordon flush bright red and play their stupid goddamn game, but now isn't the time. He doesn't think so, at least? Maybe it is?

> Does Gordon think it is? He hopes so, but he doesn't know how to tell. And, apparently, humans didn't like it when their alien best friends played games they didn't want to play.

> "... Mandatory hair inspection," he recovers. "Black Mesa, uh, protocol. Already fucked up the passport. Don't... don't fuck up hair day."

Blood doesn't so much rush to Gordon's face as it crawls, moving as sluggishly as his mind does, processing this. He knows what Benrey was gonna say before he snapped his mouth shut like a mousetrap. Gordon swore he could even hear the teeth click.

Maybe he didn't actually say it, but Gordon's entire system reacts as though he has, because, fucking, he did! For all intents and purposes! A bright, prickling heat surges down his spine that has nothing to do with the water. Why does he talk like that?! Fucking cooing at him, like Benrey's taking some kind of sick pleasure in teasing him in the most embarrassing way possible... but that's about what Gordon expects at this point.

So why did he stop himself?

When Benrey marshals his voice into something more flat and toneless, Gordon frowns. He's... he's really trying, isn't he. Trying to do something decent without turning it into one of their fucked up little games. Some of the mental furniture rearranges itself in Gordon's head, pictures straightened and doorways unjammed.

Unfortunately, all the dusting and clearing in the world can't change the fact that the foundation in his head is wired to make him a paranoid little fucker. And Benrey's always playing some kind of 4th-dimensional chess with him, anyway, right? He's just being rational. Wary.

That said... he's already here. He might as well relax and deal with the consequences later. Especially when... oh.

Benrey's washing him in earnest, fingers pressing into him and manipulating him. They're all over him, probing him without direction, and now Gordon's not sure if "relaxed" is the best descriptor for himself. There's just, there's a lot of touching happening, and Benrey's hands are so, so big, and Gordon can just make out the tip of Benrey's tongue poking through his teeth and something about that intense focus - on him - makes Gordon's breathing go shallow.

Christ. He can't-- He shouldn't think about this. This is the kind of sick shit that only happens in his head, not in real life. Gordon's just a normal guy with something very wrong with him, and that "something" makes him more prone than most to awful little fantasies, intrusive thoughts.

That's all this is. There's gotta be something wrong with him to want somebody ten times his size to touch him like this, but in, like, a horny way. Like some kind of freakjob doing gross shit with an action figure. Maybe it doesn't make him a bad person. So long as he keeps it to himself. He'll keep all his weird little fantasies right next to his heart, and then he'll die. That's that.

It's almost over, Gordon tells himself furiously, willing his blood to stop rushing to his dick and his stomach to stop coiling with heat. If he can just focus, he can will his boner down before he has to get out of the pool and then Benrey will be none the wiser.

"Okay, first of all, I didn't fuck up the passport," Gordon blusters, in an attempt to power through it. "I never needed one before! If anything, I think you fucked up, man. Never told me about Black Mesa Picture Day or whatever."

> Benrey's fingers do not pause as Gordon fusses at him, but his eyes can't stay focused on his own work. He's too busy watching Gordon's throat bob as he swallows around a lump, or how his blush is darkening and spreading. He's gauging the look in his eyes, looking for any indication that he can go ahead and make it weird, but--even though he's sweating and nervous and fidgety and acting just like he does when they're playing--Benrey is too nervous to make a move.

> And "nervous" wasn't a part of his vocabulary until that Alyx lady and Gordon's own downhill slide made it obvious that he actually had to think human to interact with humans. His human specifically.

> So, even though he sees the signs, he decides to bite his tongue. It is foreign, it is uncomfortable, and it's almost painful to choke down. To redirect his alien brain into more terrestrial channels. To try to figure out what a human person would do in his situation and, barring that, just continuing to do what he was supposed to be doing in the first place.

> Bathing Gordon.

> "Shouldn't have to tell you. S'in the, ah, employee handbook. Welcome packet. Folder. Right next to Warhammer 401k and, uh, ensure-ants."

> He cups a small amount of water in his palm and trickles it over Gordon's body, watching it drain down his form in sparkling rivulets. They trace his contours, weaving into every nook and cranny and crease that Benrey couldn't reach, and he watches them with an intensity that even he can feel. A warmth in his gut, a twitch of his dick. His tongue laps at his lips like a hungry animal; he wants to lick every droplet off of Gordon and explore ever inch of him as thoroughly as the bathwater.

> But... no. No, no. He's normal. He's normal and human and he's being nice, and Gordon hasn't said anything so he's going to close his eyes, huff angrily, and then continue on his merry way.

> "Everyone knows about, uh, Hair Inspection Day. And Passport Inspection. You, ah, you're just... uh."

> Benrey breathes heavily out of his nose as his eyes lock on Gordon yet again. Staring up at him, red-faced. Hair now adhered to his skin from the water. Chest heaving. He reaches out in spite of himself and presses a fingertip to Gordon's torso once more, feeling that rapid pulse and feeling it rise and fall with each breath. Knowing he could make Gordon's heart race faster and really put his lungs to work.

> He wants to feel him pant, wants to hear each heavy breath accompanied with his name and...

> No. God, it's getting so fucking hard to resist the game, but Benrey is good! Good for his best friend! He's learned and he's going to stay good. He's just being nice. He can be nice without being--

> "Missed a spot," Benrey lies as he pulls his finger away. He pretends to rinse Gordon off once more and sputters a cough. "Now, let's get those, ah, locks. Clean and brushed. Shiny. Barbie Girl, Barbie World, am I right?"

Gordon ducks his head instinctively as Benrey douses him with water, shielding his face. There's a huff from above him, and then another, breath hot and heavy on Gordon's neck. The closest comparable experience is... it's like being trapped under some kind of big fucking animal. A bear, maybe, snorting at the nape of his neck before it decides to eat him. Violently.

Cool. He loves thoughts like that. A pleasant reminder that they don't exactly carry fucking risperidone in the aftermath of a fascist takeover.

He shakes his head again to rid himself of it, then looks at Benrey in surprise when he presses a fingertip to his chest. It just rests there, warm and steady. Not pulling or pinching or shoving or any of the things Gordon expects. Gears whir to life in his head. Benrey's being-- he's being kind of fucking weird, but not in the ways Gordon's grown accustomed to, and when he's spent the entirety of their working relationship trying to get his sea legs, it throws him off just as badly when the boat stops rocking.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but it's not just Barbies who have to wash their hair," Gordon snorts at him. "You got me all worried now, man, I don't even know if you know the basics. It's shampoo, then conditioner, okay?"

After a moment, he slicks his hair back out of his face, too. For good measure. "And try not to get it in my eyes, either... Actually, uh, I'm kind of having second thoughts about this. Maybe you should just let me handle it. No offense."

> "Know what I'm doin'. I got hair. Nice hair. Better than... uh, Mr. 2-in-1," Benrey protests, masking the sudden wave of panic that just roiled up inside of him. Just the idea of not touching Gordon is too much, and he inwardly crinkles at the thought of missing his chance to feel his human again. And again. And again. Petting and scrubbing and massaging and imagining what it would be like to get Gordon close enough to his face that he could taste him.

> But... he can't do that. He's not allowed. This isn't The Game. This is A Nice Favor for His Person and, well, he's got to be normal. And chill. And calm. And this is all really too fucking hard.

> However, as long as he plays by the rules, he still gets a chance to touch Gordon, and he supposes that is a small victory. It's what spurs him on to press his thighs together and shift his weight to hide his burgeoning boner behind the Xenian island so that Gordon can't be alarmed or scandalized or angry or accusatory. It's what prompts him to summon from the ether, yet again, a new supply of nice-smelling soaps and an equally pleasant conditioner that still don't match the color his brain tells him they should be.

> And, with fangs pressed into his bottom lip, he dips his finger into the shampoo freshly spawned in his palm and swirls it gently, watching as Gordon regards him with a mixture of curiosity and what he hopes isn't disdain. He's been working so hard to try to not make the guy angry, and he's struggling not to slip.

> Slowly, he drips a dollop of soap onto Gordon's head--towards the back, since he is honestly trying to obey the request not to blind him--followed by a few drops of glittering, warm water. He monitors the way Gordon's expression changes as he presses against his head as gently as he can and begins to work it into a lather.

> It's... nice. It's not the usual rough stuff and bullying he's used to, but there is something undeniably pleasant about watching Gordon melt into his touch as he works, careful and light, his body rocking with the movements in a way that makes Benrey feel both strangely aroused and, well... warm. As warm as the pool of water, all on the inside like a badly heated burrito. It's new, and uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, and he savors it by trying to make the moment stretch.

> From the scalp and downwards, until his finger is stroking the side of Gordon's cheek and reaching under his chin as if trying to tilt his head up for a kiss he was way too big to give. Like a true romantic that he knew, in his gut, he wasn't actually anywhere close to being. But it felt right, and the dazed and pleasant look in Gordon's eyes shatter the alien armor around his heart in one powerful blow.

> Benrey swallows hard and says nothing. He just scrubs and stares. And scrubs. And stares.

> Slow, precise, delicate circles. Enjoying the moment, and buying time as he tries to untangle this utterly alien knot of feelings that is twisting around in his gut. Feelings he isn't sure he understands or particularly wants, but addictive all the same.

"Oh, that's kinda nice, actually," Gordon mumbles distantly, as Benrey starts to lather up his hair.

It's impressive, honestly, just how delicate Benrey's capable of being when he puts his mind to it. The pressure's firm enough that it feels good against his scalp, but he's not being knocked around or given a headache or anything. It's... pleasant. His eyes drift shut again, now that he's pretty sure Benrey's got the hang of it.

That finger slips lower, lower, stroking the side of Gordon's jaw, and Gordon leans into it. Lets him work soap into the underside of his facial hair. (And that's nice, too. It's the kind of thing he figured Benrey would miss.) And if Benrey rubs a bit slower, tilts his head up just a little so that Gordon has to peer up at him through slowly-blinking eyes, well, he's not going to complain.

Benrey's eyes are so big, so close to his and so intently focused that-- that he's sweating a little, just visible at the edge of Gordon's vision. Gordon's heart beats faster, and a strange tension begins to wind itself tight in him. It's like Benrey's trying to scan him. All that attention focused directly on him gins up butterflies in his stomach.

Gordon's suddenly hit by the awareness that nobody's done anything like this for him in a long, long time. Maybe ever. And here he is, letting his frenemy (best frenemy, whispers an annoying little voice that sounds suspiciously like Benrey) scrub him clean. Take care of him. How in the fuck did he end up here? And, more importantly, why is he so comfortable with this? This is the guy who got his arm cut off, not, fucking, not his live-in girlfriend. That broke up with him a couple years ago, citing the fact that he was "a puffed-up MIT asshole". Whatever. Details.

After a long stretch of silence, Gordon breaks it by saying, "I, uh, I think that's good. Yeah. Lemme just..."

And he pushes Benrey's finger away before ducking his head under the water, hoping Benrey doesn't notice the way his voice cracks.

> It... almost feels like he's being spurned when his finger is pushed away. There's a quaver in Gordon's voice and he isn't sure if it's nerves or rejection. In an instant, a long-dormant part of Benrey's brain flares to life, leaving him mentally bouncing theories as to why his person had sounded so off. It could have been that he was having the same sorts of thoughts Benrey had been having the whole time, or it could have been that he had done something wrong. Getting advice on how to handle Gordon came with the unpredictable side effect of giving him a lot to worry about in terms of "boundaries" and "behaving," which he honestly wasn't comfortable or keen on dealing with.

> These insecurities melt away as he watches Gordon duck under the water, however. It creates a hiccup in the system, a blue screen that necessitates a reboot. There's something distracting about the way his back arches forward, muscles moving, head dipping beneath the surface. On his knees, ass lifting up slightly so he has a touch more leverage. Hair floating to the top, and then clinging tightly to his skin as he emerges with a gasp and throws his head back and slicks it out of his face and...

> ... His face is dripping. Sopping. Water trailing from his mouth and down his beard. Running down his temples, his cheeks. Like sweat. Like... something else.

> "Holy shit," Benrey mutters with the barest hint of voice. He pauses, he tries to think of something to say that would mask the fact he's not being "normal," and he's been playing The Game the whole time, regardless of what he's been telling himself. The hamster is running, the gears are whirring, but Windows is still updating and he's at a loss for anything better to say.

> So he doubles down. His voice grows louder.

> "Holy shit."

Gordon winches his eyes shut as he wipes water from them, slinging his hair back out of his face for good measure. God, he can feel how much less greasy it is now, and it's like taking off an itchy sweater for the first time. Makes him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, man, that's honestly really... uh..."

He slows to a stop, thrown off by Benrey muttering something. Almost inaudible. It gets him to crane his neck to look up at Benrey properly, about to ask, before Benrey says it again. Louder. Okay, yeah, he did catch that right the first time, huh.

Even though he's out of focus, Gordon can still see how wide his eyes are. How slack his face is. He doesn't need the finer details to notice Benrey's hand hovering in midair, like he's been interrupted in the middle of a thought. Staring at him like... like...

Heat crashes over Gordon in a violent wave, from the crown of his head to the pit of his belly. He's not even-- he's not even doing anything. He's sopping wet, and he can't fucking stand the way his hair looks when it's laying flat and slick against his head like this, and he can't exactly hide all the unseemly scars and and stretch marks and soft spots and all the other issues he's poked at in the mirror time and time again. (He had a growth spurt as a teenager, okay, and stretching him out an extra foot and a half so quickly didn't give his skin a lot of time to adapt.)

In short, he feels more naked and exposed now, half-covered by the foamy surface of this shallow pool, than he did when Benrey had him in his palm with his entire dick out. And it makes Gordon fucking throb under the surface of the water.

He's gotta be making fun of me, Gordon desperately tells himself. Defense mechanism. It's not working as well as it usually does, and he subconsciously presses his thighs tighter together.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, suddenly dry despite the water carding down his face.

"What," starts Gordon. But he doesn't know where to take that question, and it dies as quick as it came.

> Game over. It's done. Benrey's used his final life and lost it in a valiant attempt to beat the final boss, but now he's gawking down at Gordon who is gawking right back up at him with a tell-tale look on his face that makes Benrey almost positive that he's playing just as hard. His own breath quickens as once complicated thoughts congeal into something more comfortable, something more streamlined, something more natural.

> Something that Alyx would have been disappointed to hear, especially after how good he had been doing.

> He inhales sharply through his nose and leans in close, the air coming back out at a low laugh as his mouth twists into a hungry grin. A finger extends and he presses it against the side of Gordon's face, an almost loving stroke. He can feel a burst of heat in his cheeks and he knows, glasses or not, that Gordon can probably see how red he's getting. He shifts his legs as he floats beside the island, trying to accommodate a cock that is now frighteningly hard and twitching against his stomach.

> "What 'what?'" Benrey asks, his voice monotonous but still somehow teasing. "Can't a bro, uh, admire his bro? Have a look-see? Look nice. Pretty."

> His finger drops to the water and stirs it a bit, creating a roil of bubbles that send a pleasant, tingling sensation up his hand, his arm. It seems to travel straight to his heart, which is pounding furiously in his chest.

> "You, uh... you good? Need anymore help? Getting clean? Hard to reach places?"

> A pause. He feels his stomach twist into knots. This has never really happened before while playing this game, but it's powerful. Makes him feel desperate. Needy. Makes him feel guilty and he hates it because he never feels guilty.

> As quickly as the mask breaks, he picks up the pieces and puts them back together. He slides it back on. He takes a deep breath, fumbling with his words.

> "Want to, uh... pla... pretty? Want to pretty? Want best friend Benrey to make you, uh, cleaner? Prettier? Help you? Please? Thank-you."

Two paths emerge before Gordon. On the one, well-worn and well-lit, he would tell Benrey, "No thanks, I'm good," and he would tell Benrey to turn around so he can dry off and crawl back into the jumpsuit. And then he would let Benrey fit him in the armor again, trying his best to ignore those fingers on his skin, and later he would duck away and jerk himself raw thinking about it. Swearing at himself. Wishing he could be normal for once in his fucking life and not develop questionable new fantasies about the one guy who's as out of place in this world as he is.

On the other, bracketed by brambles and dark, uncharted woods, Gordon would... He would...

He'd get it through his head that he's not the only little fucking weirdo in this relationship. That Benrey keeps staring at him like that for a reason.

And that Benrey's trying so fucking hard to play nice because... well... Gordon hasn't wrapped his head around that one yet, but he has his suspicions. Some of them more worrying than others. But the point is, Benrey's not taking the bait. He's got Gordon in a highly vulnerable position, and he could be pushing Gordon around if he wanted, playing their little game and driving him up the wall.

But he isn't. He keeps choking it back. It's unsettling. Gordon doesn't know how to handle it. He kind of wishes, in the back of his mind, that Benrey would tack on his 'schoolyard bully' demeanor again. At least that Gordon understands on some level. Push, pull, tussle.

And most unsettling of all is that downright tender way that Benrey drags a finger along his cheek. Anxiety thrums to life in Gordon's blood. No, no, that's not-- This is weird. This is so weird. There's something roiling and ugly churning in his stomach, and he doesn't like it one bit. He's not coping with it, he needs to-- to wrangle this situation, get some control over it, steer it back to familiar territory.

And in doing so, Gordon floors it directly into the woods.

He looks back at Benrey, taking in the hot flush crawling up his skin. The awkward shifting. I'm not the only freak here, Gordon reminds himself, blood pounding in his ears.

So he shifts himself. Sits back, draws his legs up so that his knees peek out of the water. Lets them fall to the sides, just a little. And he says, tucking a strand of wet hair behind his ear,

"What, and you're not even gonna-- That's some low-hanging fruit you're leaving on the vine. Startin' to get worried about you, man. You haven't gone this long without making fun of me in... uh, ever."

> Wait. Was that...?

> Was that admission?

> Benrey's pupils grow wide at the words, and his smile threatens to falter as he feels the cogs creaking inside of his head. Connecting the dots with all the newfound information he has on human people is like doing the advanced science stuff Gordon seemed to believe he was so special for knowing. There's emotional equations, rechecking the data, counter-arguments for every theory he comes up with, but in the end a little lightbulb flickers to life. The lights are on, somebody is home, and by god does that somebody want to play ball already.

> Benrey's finger stills on Gordon's cheek and he feels an uncharacteristic lump grow in his throat as his face grows redder and sweat beads at his brow. That weird emotion that once wrapped itself around its siblings, Worry and Guilt, finally cut itself loose and tangles itself in his stomach. He doesn't like it--it's too warm, and it's not the horny kind of heat that he's used to--but he allows it to stay. It feels like it may turn into something good if he just lets it incubate.

> "Uh, what? Not gonna... huh?"

> Benrey's voice cracks just like Gordon's had a moment before. He pretends it never happened and seamlessly continues.

> "Not gonna, ah, make fun of you. Gonna... gonna pick that fruit, though."

> His finger trails down Gordon's chin, down his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest. It rests dangerously low on his belly, threatening to dip lower. He grins at Gordon, leans in close, and huffs a laugh that's less malicious than it is honestly amused with its own cleverness.

> "Uh, get it? Fruit? Picked? You're, ah, you're the fruit, bro."

> A pause.

> "Laugh, please."

Gordon swallows, hard. The implications hit him like a bowling ball. That somebody's dropping on him. Maybe from an overpass or something. He's spinning out a little, alright, and losing his grip on the metaphor.

Benrey's fingertip leaves goosebumps in its wake, and his breathing goes shallow as the nail lightly catches on the crook of his neck. Lower, lower, slipping just below the surface of the water to rest on his belly, and Gordon thanks every deity he can imagine (and some he can't) that the bubbles hide... well. This, feeling it throb where it lies heavy against his hip.

Despite himself, he does actually laugh when Benrey prompts it. It comes out high and way louder than he intended, but still. Now that's a metaphor he's got a good grasp on, he thinks wildly. Oh, Christ.

"That's-- that's not really what I meant," Gordon tries to argue, but not with very much conviction. "But, uh, ha ha! Great joke! Fucking love jokes, man!"

> Benrey doesn't really hear what Gordon is saying. He does know that tone, though, from times they've played The Game before. It's a tone that speaks of permission, a sort of polite denial without the force. The kind of arguing that Benrey knows he can get away with ignoring because it's not sincere. Game talk. A challenge.

> Their own secret language of want.

> "Thank-you," Benrey purrs when Gordon forces a laugh, and his finger rubs a slow, slow circle into Gordon's stomach. He's sure Gordon notices when it bumps a bit too low, because he can feel something tell-tale just beneath the surface of the water. His grin grows at the realization that he was on the right track, tongue slipping out from between his teeth and running along his lips. A show, given to Gordon.

> A show he desperately wants Gordon to notice is meant for him. A tech demo. A promise.

> "But, uh... if that ain't what you meant. What did you mean? 'Cause you seem to be enjoyin' this, best friend."

A noise threatens to burst from Gordon's chest when Benrey starts to rub, slow and insistent, and grazes against-- Oh, God. But he clamps his lips tight, and all that escapes him is a harsh puff of air through his nose. He knows now, he knows, and it's written all over his face, a raised eyebrow and a smug smile and the slow, deliberate movement of his tongue over his lower lip.

It's fucking cartoonish, is what it is. Gordon should laugh. Gordon does laugh, again, another nervous little titter that doesn't communicate "amusement" so much as "flustered hysteria".

"I don't know," he blurts out, and it's the most honest thing he's said all day. "Fucking, God, I'm not-- This isn't what it looks like, okay, you just-- you keep looking at me like that, and I don't know what your fucking game is, man!"

He can't look at Benrey, not right now, not when he knows Benrey's looking at him like that, and so he looks down and oh, no, that's a bad idea. Because Benrey's still drawing tight little circles into his skin, unnervingly gentle. And so Gordon's eyes keep darting around, finding nowhere suitable to land.

At least Benrey's taking the bait. He's not doing that weird sappy shit anymore, and Gordon's in more familiar territory: the push and pull. The teasing. So he pulls harder, in hopes that Benrey will knock it off for good.

"If anybody's 'enjoying this', it's you, buddy! I'm just a, uh, innocent bystander, you know?"

> He doesn't sound convincing. There's fractures in his voice, and his words are stumbling like they fell down the stairs. He's looking everywhere but at Benrey, his face red and his eyes nervously darting from thing to thing to thing. But, in the end, they always come back to him, in one way or another.

> It's tells like this that let Benrey know that he's playing. The Game is afoot, he's been given the go-ahead. It's time to take the ball and run.

> "Uh-huh. Sure. Innocent. Lessee what you're hidin', bro."

> And with that, Benrey removes his finger from Gordon's stomach, instead parting his fingers into a V-shape and hooking Gordon underneath his arms. It's like a claw in a skill crane and, with a snort, he lifts Gordon out of the water. Naked, wet, and standing at attention from the looks of it; his human apparently had been playing along a lot longer than Benrey knew. He watches Gordon dangling a few feet from the pool at the end of his hand and smirks.

> But there's something different now, isn't there? Something Benrey sees in his human that makes that weird feeling he's been fighting twirl and twist. He's barely even noticing Gordon's boner more than he's looking at the way his hair is clinging to his face, and the way his eyes are flicking up at him expectantly, and how warm and small and cute he looks. He looks delicate and handsome and he wants to touch him, but he wants to touch all of him, and his heart is thumping so hard he starts to worry because... fuck. Is he dying? Is Gordon killing him just by being cute?

> Benrey swallows hard. He hopes his expression didn't falter. He broadens his grin in case it did, until the muscles in his cheeks honestly hurt. And he inhales deeply and forces a mocking laugh and squeezes his fingers around Gordon gently in an attempt to further mock him.

> "I 'unno, bro. Looks like you're, uh... you're carrying without a permit. That's... uh, an infract... fracta... infection. You're a bad boy, aren't'cha?"

Gordon yelps as those fingers hook under his arms and drag him out of the water. Oh, God, his legs are kicking out from underneath him, and his hands scrabble at Benrey's, and Benrey's just smirking at him all up close and personal and he's fucked, he's really, really fucked. His fucking dick bobs in the air like-- like-- he doesn't know, he doesn't have a simile for this! Gordon's never been in this situation before! But bob it does, until he comes to a stop right in front of Benrey's face.

"It's infraction, dude!" Gordon snaps, his mind jumping to the least important thing Benrey said. "Fucking 'infraction'! And I don't-- I don't know what you expect when you're all, fucking--"

He's cut off by a gasp when Benrey squeezes him, just a little. Makes Gordon keenly aware of those big fingers. He can just... he can do whatever he fucking wants, huh? Pick Gordon up like it's nothing? Wrap those fingers around him, so big and hot and rough against his skin, and move all his limbs around just like he was doing earlier and--

And--

Gordon blinks, coming back to himself. Face hot. Mouth dry. And Benrey's grin looks impossibly wider.

"You know," he finishes weakly.

> "Maybe I do," Benrey responds, jostling Gordon lightly. "Maybe I don't. Maybe you should tell me, bro. When I'm all fuckin' what?"

> He lifts Gordon higher, and closer. Really gets a good look at him, leaning in and running his tongue along his jagged teeth. Like a predator, like something that wants to swallow Gordon whole, though that's the last thing on his mind. He wants to taste Gordon, that's for sure, but there's... there's more to it.

> He wants to reel him in. Follow this weird feeling. Press his lips against Gordon and--

> Benrey inhales sharply through his nose. Gordon smells positively delicious. Like something fruity and sweet and earthly. And he looks delicious, too, all soft and supple and soaked to the bone, smooth skin glistening in the alien lights.

> His dick twitches, straining against his pants. He's so hard it hurts. He wonders if Gordon can see, but can't imagine he can miss it.

> "C'mon," he teases, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Tell me what I am, bro. Tell best friend Benrey what's on your mind. Bonding experience. Bros being bros."

He wrenches his eyes shut, breath coming harder and faster despite his efforts to control it. When Benrey fucking talks like that, he can't help it, okay? All-- all smug and condescending and all the shit that should get under his skin-- and does, yeah, it drives him up the wall, but. But. There must be something wrong with him, Gordon thinks desperately. Something warped in the fabric of his mind that makes a shiver race down his spine.

Then he feels warm breath puffing against his face, and he opens his eyes again. Just in time to see a broad tongue run across sharp, sharp teeth. A naked suggestion. Gordon's mouth falls open a little and hangs there, stunned speechless.

Until Benrey mutters, c'mooon, voice low and heated in a way that goes straight to Gordon's belly. And his dick twitches in the open air, fully visible this time. Fuck.

"You're," he starts, staring at his own fingertips, where they're digging into Benrey's hand.

God, this is humiliating! And he should, he should tell Benrey to fuck off and put him down, but he doesn't. That same warp in his fabric goes all the way down to his autonomic nervous system. Heart racing, blood pumping, pupils dilating and sweat beading and every other unconscious reaction he can't wrangle into submission.

Because he wants to be wrangled into submission.

Okay, Christ! He gets it! He doesn't need the color commentary from his own fucking brain!

Gordon takes a deep breath to steel himself, and then he starts again, choked and hesitant, "When you're... God, fucking, touching me and breathing on me and shit, man! Like you'd be doing any better if you had somebody's big fucking hands all over you! Okay?"

As soon as the words leave him, a fresh wave of embarrassment crests and crashes over him. Stupid, stupid, he shouldn't have said it.

> Oh. Well. That was new. Usually, there's a bit more arguing, a bit more resistance, a bit more of Benrey getting called things like "weirdo" and "freak" before they have a good "haha" about it and touch dicks. But Gordon is being so earnest and honest and talking about how he's touching him, about big hands, about doing this same thing to Benrey (sort of talking about it, anyway), and...

> ... And Benrey feels... wanted? Was that the word? Wanted?

> Yeah. He feels wanted.

> And that foreign, alien, hot-cold emotion twisting inside of him balloons and explodes, and there is a sudden, pulse-pounding sensation of want and warmth that courses through his body like a poison. He can feel drool pooling under his tongue and he swallows hard, his smile fading into something more earnest as he tries to maintain a mocking, bullying stare. Tries to keep his head in the game.

> Their game.

> "Oh. You, uh. You like it when I breathe on you? Fuckin'... secret alien power. Uh, blow dryer." He pauses and chuckles. "Heh. Blow."

> He inches Gordon closer to his face, and the closer he brings him, the more he can feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of him. Welcoming him. Blazing hot, like he is on the inside, and flushed so red he looked burned. And that warm, weird, unwelcome emotion surges again as he lets out a sigh and sits Gordon in his palm, plopping him down unceremoniously like a captured bug.

> Only he's not watching him with a childlike curiosity. He's really examining him, trying to wiggle the wrench out of the gears in his brain. With some effort, he pops it loose, and the words pour out of his mouth without any restraint.

> "Bet'cha you'd like it if I, uh... dried you off. Gentle breeze. Pick a scent. Have eight exciting flavors. Blue. Watermelon. Other blue. Tropical, uh, kiss."

> Even he isn't sure why he stressed that last word. The weird emotion spoke for him.

> His mouth snaps shut.

> Awkward.

Whatever Gordon was expecting, it wasn't "being dropped buck-naked onto Benrey's palm". His legs splay out in front of him, and he instinctively tries to draw his knees up. Doesn't change the fact that he's got his boner out in front of God and everybody.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Despite himself, he bursts out laughing. He does his best to choke it back down. "You really, uh, gotta work on your dirty talk, man."

Gordon doesn't manage to catch himself before he all but admits that, yeah, that was dirty talk. This is a situation where Benrey should be trying to talk dirty to him. It's breaking the rules a little. Breaking kayfabe. But it's hard to resist bringing it up when Benrey's trying to get him hot by talking about blowing on him like a spoonful of soup.

Then he actually thinks about what Benrey said. Tropical kiss. That's not-- that's not anything. That's not real. Benrey's just talking about kissing him, in whatever weird fucking roundabout way he usually does. A small part of him softens. It's... almost cute. If he were inclined to ever describe Benrey that way. Which he isn't.

But Gordon plays along anyway. "What are you talking about? Scents? Dude, I smelled your breath earlier, and lemme tell you, it wasn't any kind of fucking tropical kiss."

> "Uh, no. S'one of the other flavors," Benrey responds indignantly, façade breaking for a moment. "That flavor was, uh... Glade Plug-in."

> As he speaks, he reels Gordon in closer, sitting in his palm and still sopping wet. He looks so small, so delicate, so... cute, and the thought makes his heart flutter again. It grabs his tongue and twists it into an awkward knot that takes a moment to untie. He works fast, hoping to save face. Get back in the game.

> But it's hard. Harder than before, and as Gordon stares at him expectantly, he's suddenly floundering. While he is externally stiff, flat, and monotonous, on the inside he is scrambling to pick up his scattered index cards during a speech. He wants to play, but he wants to taste. He wants to stroke Gordon's head as much as his dick and he doesn't know why. He wants to say something naughty and nice all at the same time and...

> "Lemme, uh. Demo. Demon-stray-shun," Benrey says, interrupting his own thoughts. "Tropical kiss. Free sample. Here we go."

> And with that, he brings Gordon to his mouth. He presses the smaller man into his lips, a small and chaste kiss being planted in the first place he can reach: Gordon's throat. Only it's... not just his throat. It's basically his whole shoulder, and throat, and beneath his jaw. He practically envelops him, could literally swallow him if he wanted to, but pulls away and snorts a laugh as though this spontaneous act was premeditated as a joke.

> He sounds unconvincing.

> Even more so when he chuckles, "See? Coconut. Sea breeze. Lime. Seagulls. All the classic smells."

Lips press against Gordon's skin before he's fully prepared for it, and he lets out a surprised little sound. Jaw and throat alike find themselves enveloped, a heat and softness and moisture the likes of which he's never felt quite like this. And then it's over. Gordon's still left dizzily processing this as Benrey draws back.

"Did you just kiss me?" Gordon asks, stupidly. He touches a hand to his jaw, where there's a hint of moisture lingering.

The longer Gordon thinks about it, the more disoriented he becomes. Benrey's never kissed him like that before. All, fucking, sweet and tender. Those aren't words in his vocab. Like, yeah, sure, they've kissed before, but only in frantic, snarling bursts. This is strange and new.

But... at the same time... that's not all it is, is it. At this scale, chasteness is impossible. Gordon's so small in his hand, wet and splayed like some kind of foal, and those hands could wrap around every inch of him at once just to touch him. Lips, kissing wide swathes of skin. Hot breaths of air forced through Benrey's nose and spurring the hairs on the back of Gordon's neck to stand up. The unpleasant realization that Benrey is very, very big, and could probably just swallow Gordon whole if he so chose. You know. Normal things to worry about.

But he doesn't. He just lets Gordon go with a kiss. And Gordon flushes up to his ears, still a little dumbstruck.

> That was... new. That wasn't like the lust-fueled, rushed kisses he'd given Gordon while trying to get fingers around his cock, but it wasn't bad. It was something that scratched an itch he didn't know he had, something that made his lips tingle, something that milked an incredibly good feeling out of that foreign emotion swirling inside of him. It's intoxicating in a way human substances never could quite pull off, and Benrey feels an addiction already forming.

> It takes him a moment to realize that Gordon has spoken. It's just a tiny sound to his colossal ears, one he nearly misses from the full-body throb of lust and affection. It's not just his dick anymore. His heart is thundering against every bone, every inch of skin, and he feels almost overwhelmed. Again, like he's dying. This is new, it's intense.

> He wets his lips and furrows his brow, and with a surprising amount of clarity, rattles, "Yeah... uh. I guess I did, huh?"

> His tongue continues to run over his lips. His teeth. His eyes dart to Gordon. He's struggling to play the game properly, but there's a sudden bout of nerves involved. He can't help but wonder if this is how Gordon feels all the time, and the realization clonks him like a clawhammer.

> If this is how Gordon feels all the time, then no wonder he's always such a mess. It's latching onto his jaw and holding it shut like an invisible muzzle, it's pumping him full of drugs that don't exist, it's making him feel small despite being absolutely batshit levels of huge. And, it feels like he's learning... god, what had Alyx called it? Empathy? He's not sure how much he likes it, but it mingles well with the now-welcome warmth following the kiss in a way that feels positively, cathartically self-destructive.

> Benrey coughs. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't tease. He looks to Gordon with an intensity even he's surprised he can pull off.

> "You, uh. Like it? Wan' another one? I got, uh, plenty. Warehouses full. Best Friend Special. BOGO."

Gordon watches Benrey's tongue slide over his teeth like it's in slow motion, a reminder of what lies just underneath the surface. And he freezes under the intensity of Benrey's stare, anticipatory sweat beading on his forehead.

"What, you mean you want to..." He trails off with a nervous laugh. "C'mon, man, put me down! I know you get a kick out of, fucking, making fun of me or whatever, but I don't know what you're getting out of this!"

> Unfortunately, Benrey knows exactly what he was getting out of this. A feeling, strong and tingly that's now full of a primal need that he understands quite a bit better. And, beyond that, he was getting permission. Full permission in every movement Gordon made, every lilt of his voice, every glance up at him that was filled with a hunger that his human never got quite got the hang of voicing. It's a look that Benrey knows good and well, though, from the other time they've played their little games.

> He says nothing. He just smiles, moves Gordon to his mouth again, and pushes his lips gently against his collar bone, though it stretches down to his chest. He can feel Gordon's nipple brush against the corner of his lip, hair brushing against his mouth, the taste of the strange, glittering water and skin as he parts his lips and rumbles a laugh into Gordon.

> He pulls away. He maneuvers his human. He presses his mouth against him again, brushing his stomach with a feather-light kiss that nearly encompasses his dick. He can feel it pressing against him, feel it twitch as he pokes a tongue out between his teeth and presses the very tip into his soft flesh.

> His eyes angle up to Gordon's in a silent bid for a sign. The lick intensifies, nimbly avoiding the cock poking at the very corner of his mouth.

> He continues to say nothing. He has a feeling he doesn't have to. Gordon isn't the only one who can get away with communicating silent intent in their back-and-forth.

Of course Benrey's not gonna answer him. Of course Benrey's just gonna grin at him - like an asshole - and kiss him again, lips soft against his chest. Right over his heart. It's cartoonish, is what it is. And, unfortunately, it's also more ticklish than Gordon expects, and he snorts aloud.

"What are you doing? You're being weird, dude."

When Benrey laughs back at him, his huffed breath ruffles Gordon's body hair, and it just makes that whole "sensitivity" problem worse. Gordon tries to choke down a giggle and fails. Despite himself, it's... it's nice. He almost feels light-headed.

And then Benrey's doing it again, a soft kiss against his middle, shifting him bodily into position, and Gordon laughs again, shoving at his face. Playful. Roughhousing. Their usual.

And again. "That-- That tickles, man, c'mon!"

And again, hot against his belly. Mouth parted. Benrey's chin grazes his dick, which he'd all but forgotten about in his reflexive urge to kick Benrey away. A peal of laughter bleeds into a gasp. All the worse when Gordon feels the wet-hot tip of a tongue push into his skin.

Oh God. It feels just like he thought it would. In that dream, that fucking dream, the one he can't get out of his mind. The one that's made Gordon look twice every time Benrey grins at him, teeth sharp and glossy. He freezes, afraid even to breathe too heavily and press himself all the more against Benrey's tongue.

"What are you doing," he asks again, this time less of a playful rebuff and more of a high squeak. Then it's hotter, wetter, more of the broad side of Benrey's tongue flattening against him, and his dick twitches, hard.

Fuck.

> Alyx would be disappointed, Benrey thinks. He was doing so good and playing so nice, and now he's licking a hot, wet stripe across Gordon's belly, feeling the hairs and skin against his tongue, teeth barely grazing against sensitive flesh. But, he knows things she doesn't and will never know, about the game and the language that he and Gordon have built. He squeaks in defiance, but with a tone that shows only polite refusal: Oh, I couldn't possibly, but if you insist.

> Gordon isn't pressing against his face. He isn't pushing him away. He isn't snarling and cursing, and he hasn't made any move to extricate himself. He's parting his legs invitingly, his voice is getting higher in want and anticipation, and his dick is so hard. As hard as Benrey's, to be honest, and twitching almost as if its beckoning.

> "What'm I doing?" Benrey purrs, and he can see Gordon's body tremble at the way it rumbles through him. "M'helpin'. S'what best friends do."

> With that, his jaw opens wide, his tongue slithering out and the tip dipping lower. Low enough to catch his cock, his legs, the entire bottom of his stomach. It presses hard against Gordon and then creeps upward before coiling up politely behind Benrey's jagged smile. Drool pools at the corner of his lips and he swipes it away with his spare hand.

> He opens his mouth and dives back in again, the faintest hint of flesh and salt and soap and glittering, sweet Xen water dancing across his tongue. It fills him with another burst of primal want, though it's watching the flush on Gordon grow deeper that satiates that other, newer beast nesting inside of him.

Hot, wet, sinuous, pressing against his belly like a snake, making him gasp and jerk instinctively - Gordon's head spins on contact. And Benrey's eyes keep flicking up to meet his, like he's gauging Gordon's reaction. Looking for the go-ahead. Like-- Like they haven't been playing this fucking game for hours, glorified foreplay, you know, like he hadn't let Benrey practically feel him up behind the bleachers while he was (is) stripped down to nothing.

When Gordon's legs jerk open, though, he doesn't snap them closed again. He lets them fall open, leaving room for Benrey's face. If he wanted. To put his face anywhere around there. It's embarrassing as soon as the thought hits his conscious mind, and Gordon burns a bright red down to his shoulders.

"I-I don't know if this is what every 'best friend' is supposed to d-- oh-- oh God, Benrey--"

His voice pitches up, raw and hoarse, as Benrey's tongue flattens itself against his thighs and dick. No more games. Just what this was always building up to, this whole time, if Gordon had just paid a little more attention, pushed his glasses back up on his nose and seen the hunger in Benrey's eyes. And the full knowledge of it cracks over his skull like an egg.

His chest heaves desperately to catch his breath, but it's so much, he can't--

He can't--

Benrey's going back for more, licking him in slow, deliberate strokes and chuffing like a big cat against him, and Gordon can't fucking think. His hands clench at Benrey's, then, finding that inadequate, at his own face. His hair.

"Benrey," he chokes out again. "You're gonna-- oh-- you just gave me a bath and you're gonna get me all fuckin' nasty again, man!"

It comes out as a whine that belies just how fucking stupid he sounds.

> "I'll, uh, just bathe you again. No biggie."

> Benrey's voice is low, dismissive. There is a dark and teasing chuckle hidden just under the surface, as much of a predator as the rest of him. Waiting for a moment to strike, to snag his prey and drag it beneath the surface. But not now, not now.

> Benrey likes to play with his food.

> His alien tongue is strangely dexterous, encircling Gordon's thighs and tracing wet lines into the crease where they met his body. Faint trails of Sweet Voice-tainted saliva leave visible marks of where he's been, allowing Gordon to ogle at exactly when Benrey is doing to him even after he's moved on. Even after he's moved from one leg to the other, to his belly, to his cock.

> His own aches as he flattens his tongue against his dick and licks upwards, like an animal lapping water. His tongue curls delicately and folds back into his mouth, scraping against pointed teeth before emerging again. Hungry, tasting, teasing and growing faster, more deliberate. The taste of Gordon swirl in his mouth and he feels a heat building in his belly so hot and dangerous that it almost makes him feel ill.

> And it intensifies with every squeak Gordon makes, every pant that falls out of his mouth. It drives him onward, a leopard on the prowl, gradually cornering its next meal. His own breath is becoming ragged, his mind a messy whorl of emotions and thoughts that make time seem as though it hardly matters. He's long forgotten how long he's been teasing, eyes nearly crossed to focus on Gordon. Benrey has long been lost in the sounds he makes, the way he writhes.

> It's almost like divine inspiration when it strikes him that he should maybe push him a bit harder.

> Delicately, and uncharacteristically slow, he rolls his tongue back into his mouth. He parts his lips and fits them around Gordon's length. He can't suck, not at this size, but he hums in satisfaction, the vibrations pulsing straight from him and into his human.

> If he wasn't so afraid of doing damage, he'd have smiled.

"We don't have time to--" Gordon breaks off in a moan, that compulsive need to worry stopped in its tracks by Benrey's tongue.

He shivers from his neck down to his toes when it worms around his thighs, digging into those sensitive creases in his skin. Something like a laugh bubbles out of him, but it's also something like a whimper, with a hint of a plea.

"You can't," he gasps, fighting for breath, "you can't do this to me, man, you don't even-- ah! Fuck! Don't even know!"

Gordon turns his face to the side and buries a noise into Benrey's hand. Makes it easier to cope when Benrey licks up to his chest and swirls his tongue, his own breath loud and hot around it. Tasting everywhere he can get to. Benrey just keeps going, salivating and groaning for the sheer thrill of it, and it makes heat pulse off Gordon's skin in waves.

Faster, harder, enveloping him in ways he had only dreamed possible, something only he can do - Benrey - just for him, he doesn't do this shit with anyone else, how could he. Gordon squirms and gasps in his grip, legs straining to arch into that wet heat.

Agony creeps into his voice, low and haggard. "Benrey," he whines, "how are you so fucking... good at this, why are you even--"

He doesn't get to finish that thought before Benrey's lips wrap around him, and he hums, smug as a cat that's gotten the cream, and Gordon cries out so hard that some winged thing bursts out from a nearby outcropping. How is-- Why is he-- what does he even get out of this, he thinks wildly, brain desperately clinging to neuroticism even in the face of sexual obliteration.

> Every time Gordon shifts his weight, whines, looks away, says a word, Benrey feels that warm, weird emotion surge through him in a way that defies explanation. A feeling he thinks he can now identify, but is hesitant to verbalize, lest he somehow break the rules. But, it's so much stronger than before, especially after everything they'd been through, especially with the way Gordon is finally saying what he really means. Instead of snapping that he's being weird, he's whimpering praise and the words hang crookedly in his head like paintings in a forgotten room.

> "Benrey, how are you so fucking... good at this?"

> The boner he'd been ignoring for what seemed like millennia is now aching, and he pushes his hips against the side of the island and grinds upwards in hopes of finding something resembling relief. Unsurprisingly, what he finds is a crotch full of rocks, and he winces even as he continues to lavish Gordon with attention, breath hot out of his nose as he continues to hum and mouth at his dick. As he unfurls his tongue once more and presses it against his entire body and pushes Gordon against the palm of his hand, something akin to a wet hug. As the tip once again finds Gordon's cock and greedily laps at it, mesmerized by how prominent it is compared to the rest of his soft body.

> There is no give. Just hardness, sinking into the sensitive muscle.

> As he continues on--gently sucking on entire hands, tracing circles into the wet skin of his stomach, tasting the inside of his thighs while grazing his junk with the side of his tongue--he grunts. He feels his hips rocking just out of Gordon's sight. He clenches his free hand when its not in use pulling Gordon's legs apart for easier access or fiddling with his arm to get access to his fingers.

> It's instinctual, and impossible to ignore. He aches, and he knows Gordon can see he's losing himself to this as much as his prey.

> He waits to see if Gordon will have anything to say about it.

Gordon grabs desperately at Benrey's face, a nasal noise forced out of him on every exhale. It's more than a blowjob, it's, it's Benrey humming through his entire fucking body, okay? He can feel it down to his bones, and the inside of Benrey's mouth is achingly warm and so, so wet, and Benrey just keeps mouthing at him, tongue unfurling behind his teeth to lap up Gordon's length in a hot stripe.

It's... it's good. It's so good. Gordon closes his eyes tight and moans aloud.

Benrey moans, too, as his lips part from Gordon's dick to envelop his fingers instead. He pants through his nose and shuffles awkwardly, and the uncomfortable motion gets Gordon to open his eyes again. And he really looks, this time.

Oh.

He's hard.

Benrey's hard, and he's rocking his hips forward into the barren earth. And he's got his hands on Gordon instead of himself. Thumbing his chest and spreading him open. The burden of that knowledge makes Gordon pant like a dog.

"Oh my God," he warbles, voice cracking as Benrey draws patterns into his stomach with his tongue, "are you-- are you not gonna--"

Gordon slaps his hands over his mouth, suddenly regretting his words. No, he's not going to ask if Benrey's gonna touch his own dick, Jesus Christ. That's none of his business. What does he even care, anyway. It's not like he wants to see it. Not like he's curious about how big it would look once Benrey whipped it out. Gordon's aware of the general, you know, size and girth, proportionally, but it looks so much bigger down there, even in the confines of his work pants. It's not really fair.

And then Benrey grunts against him and flicks the tip of his tongue against his dick even faster, and Gordon can't stop the agonized whine that forces its way out of him.

> Benrey's tongue rolls up Gordon's body yet again, and again, and again. It envelops his dick, his thighs, his stomach, and everything in between. He watches, he waits, and eventually he hears Gordon's voice small and broken from his palm. It is enough to make him recoil, to open the floodgates in his mind. That warm feeling floods the inside of his skull and drowns out every thought out but lust, who is gasping for air defiantly.

> "Huh?"

> Benrey pauses, looking down at Gordon--soaked and slimy and oh-so-small--laying with his legs parted, his face flushed, his eyes locked on the very prominent erection straining against his pants. His own trail down to it and he smirks as the weight of Gordon's almost-question hits him.

> "Oh... huh? Wha? Touch myself? Is, uh, is that what you were gonna say?"

> He leans down over Gordon, tongue sticking out between sharp teeth but frustratingly distant from his body. The hand he'd once used to manhandle his human pulled away, fingers slipping into his waistband behind his belt. He sneers, but there is no actual malice behind it. Feigned mockery, just to make Gordon grow brighter. Redder.

> "You... seem to like the idea. You, uh. You... you wanna see? That what you want? Wanna see best friend Benrey's massive hog? Wanna... wanna touch it?"

> A pause, a laugh.

> "Want me to touch it? Seems you like the idea. I can do it. Just, uh, gotta say so."

Gordon mumbles a quiet plea into his hands, begging for some higher power to-- to do something. He doesn't know what. All he knows is that Benrey's sticking his tongue between his teeth, now, looking at him as if he's some problem to be solved or some piece of furniture to wrangle into place. Instead of keeping that tongue right where he had it. Gordon squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath through his nose. He's not disappointed, actually. That would involve caring about what Benrey was doing at all. Which he doesn't.

"You can... you can do whatever you want, man. It's your life," he says, not meeting Benrey's eyes.

Not like he wants to... oh, God. That's Benrey's hand in his pants, isn't it? Slipping under the waistband before Gordon’s even finished his sentence. A sound escapes him that he really wishes wouldn't. He’s really into this, huh, Gordon thinks distantly, just as surprised by the realization as he has been all the previous times he’s figured out that, yes, Benrey actually is pretty hot for him. Like he’s still waiting for the Band-Aid to be ripped off, even now. Even after Benrey’s sucked his dick in a fucking dumpster. (You take what you can get.)

And-- And there it is, huh. Larger than life. Gordon swallows, a little intimidated. Then he wants to curse himself out for feeling intimidated by Benrey’s dick. Freud would have a field day with him.

#writin stuff #please clap.

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wendimydarling · 3 years

Text

Weakness

Title: Weakness

Summary: Syverson and his wife get into an argument, and he shows her bratty ass how to mind.

Pairing: Syverson x First Person Reader

Word Count: 2017

Warnings: nudity, manhandling, penetrative sex, tickling.

A/N: Last request of the year, folks... I’ve got a full plate!

Could you please do a tickle fic with syverson where u guys have a fight, but then when he comes to bed late at night you tickle him to get him to talk. But then he gets annoyed at you and ends up tying you up and tickling you as a punishment, though it ends in fluff and giggles at the end? Love ur fics!

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How many times we gonna have this argument?”

I had zero desire to do this tonight but I stood there anyway, arms crossed, nostrils flaring. Everyone in the bar was cowering away from Syverson’s intimidating hulk of a stance, but not me. I’d been with him for too long.

The guy that hit on me was far in retreat but once again, I’d been embarrassed in front of everyone by Sy taking it too seriously. He was so protective and for the most part, I didn’t mind. But I consider myself a woman that can defend herself without the aid of a man, and when said man comes in and threatens to maul any man within a ten foot radius of me, my intimidation factor gets undercut by about fifty percent.

Syverson also had his arms crossed, his legs regulation width apart and back ramrod straight. His size alone was enough to terrify most women, and even some men, but not me. I was far too pissed. Sy furrowed his brow.

“I’ll not have anyone hittin’ on my woman, especially not while I’m there to defend her,” he stated firmly. I rolled my eyes and threw my hands in the air.

“We’re goin’ in circles, and I ain’t doin’ this in public, especially not tonight,” I snapped. I grabbed my clutch and walked out the door, hailing a passing taxi and getting in before I could change my mind. As I gave the driver my address, I looked out the window and saw Syverson standing there, his mouth set in a stern line. A pang of excited fear shot into my belly; I had just left my husband at a bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Syverson made it home about twenty long minutes after I did. They had to have been the most agonizing minutes of my life, and that included the time he suddenly lost phone reception once when he was on tour. I got ready for bed while I waited for him to come home, but I knew sleep would evade me. Back and forth I paced, straightening the décor on our shelves and brushing my hair before finally coming to rest on the bed, my knees pulled up to my chest.

I heard a car door outside and adrenaline coursed through my veins; the front door slamming shut near made me jump out of my skin. My body was rooted to the mattress, fingers fidgeting with the lacey hem of my cotton nightgown nervously. Sy entered our room, glanced at me briefly, then tore off his shirt and tossed it in the hamper as he barricaded himself in our bathroom without a word. I was in so much trouble, and my heart sank down into my stomach. Why of all nights did we have to do this tonight?

It wasn’t long before Syverson came back into the room, scowl still stubbornly etched on his face as he removed the rest of his clothes. He caught my eye and held it in silent warning; I didn’t dare look away. His belt was drawn out of its fabric station slowly and my ass clenched in apprehensive dread, but Sy just dropped it to the floor. My annoyance catapulted over my fear.

“Ya just not gonna talk to me then?” I snapped, shooting him my own glare. Syverson still didn’t speak, simply shucked his legs out of his pants and boxers and climbed under the covers, rolling over so that his back was facing me. That was the last straw.

“Sy…” I drawled, dragging a fingernail down his spine. He rotated his shoulder and huffed, but didn’t turn over. Determined, I tried again, spidering my fingers over the back of his ribs. Syverson spun around with surprising agility for a man so large and in a flash my wrist was seized.

“Best not start somethin’ ya can’t finish, little lady,” he warned, shoving my hand away. He closed his eyes and settled back into the bed. Anyone else would have heeded Sy’s warning, but not me. I needed to talk about it.

“Come on Sy, talk to me,” I pleaded. He just grunted. I assessed the situation, surveying his body for my plan of attack. His big arms protected most of his torso but the blanket had ridden down when he flipped over, and I could see the sharp point of his hip bone cresting through the waves of hair that graced his skin. Bingo.

I crawled on the bed carefully, sneaking a hand beneath the blanket to where Syverson’s warm girth lay nestled between his thighs. He grunted again but shifted to grant me more access; he never could say no to a blow job, no matter how mad he was. I straddled his chest and palmed him softly, smirking as he fell straight into my trap. Instead of leaning over though, I drilled my fingers into the deep pockets of his hips, relishing the way he immediately started huffing and throwing curses my way.

“If ya ain’t gonna talk to me then I’m just gonna tickle ya,” I drawled, scribbling my nails over his sensitive flesh. Sy grunted and jerked but he couldn’t quite get his hands around my torso to reach, the tickles confusing his brain and causing him to lose focus.

“Hmmm… still don’t wanna talk?” I teased, “Fine then, perhaps I should move to yer feet.”

In a flash my ankles were yanked out from under me and I was rolled underneath Sy’s heavy frame, his nimble fingers finding purchase beneath him on my sensitive ribs. I squealed and scrambled for his hands, kicking at him as I tried to stop the tickles. He just climbed on top of me and flipped around to straddle my hips, instantly immobilizing me and removing any notion I had of making it out of this alive.

“Ya think ya can just leave?” Syverson growled, pinning my arms above my head with one hand and returned to digging his fingers into my rib cage. I squealed again and fought to escape, but his thighs were an iron vice around my hips and his rough hand effortlessly held my wrists, locking me in place so that he had all the room in the world to punish me for my behavior.

“Ya thought this was over just cause you were done with it?” His fingers drilled faster, their ferocity matching the scowl on his face as I laughed helplessly.

“Try again, little lady... we ain’t over ‘til I say so.”

With that, he reverted back to his silence. I screamed and pleaded with him but he ignored me, tickling any skin he could find. When he ran out of skin to tickle he simply created more, rucking up my nightgown to gain access to my belly and navel. I laughed and wailed but my cries met a stone wall; I was too ticklish for my own good, and Syverson was mad.

He tore my nightgown completely off me and grabbed my wrists, and I took the brief moment to gasp for air. My respite was short lived however as I noticed his intentions; he was pinning my arms beneath his knees.

“No, Sy NO, PLEASE!!” I protested, pulling uselessly against his brute strength. I knew his game, I knew where he was headed and I didn’t want it.

“I’m sorry,” I begged him. Sy stared at me, hands on his knees, glare still firmly lodged on his face.

“I told ya not to start something ya couldn’t finish,” he said coldly. His hands travelled slowly behind him, resting along the supple flesh on my thighs.

“I know, I--KNOW,” I gasped, kicking at him. Syverson shuffled my body as I spoke, spreading my legs and trapping them between his folded knees.

“Ya just... ya wouldn’t talk to me, Sy. I didn’t want to go to bed upset, not tonight,” I admitted, gazing up at him with round eyes. I struggled under his weight, trembling as his fingertips grazed along the inner tendons that connected my legs to the rest of my body. Sy gave me a look that said I better keep talking, so I continued to explain.

“I don’t need ya to defend me all the time,” I said softly, not wanting to look at him. I knew his face would show that he was hurt, and I was right.

“That’s what I’m here for, bug,” He whispered, staring at my heaving chest as he traced circles along my sensitive loins. I shivered. God, I wanted to reach out and hold him.

“But what about when ya aren’t here?”

Syverson’s head snapped up to look at me, fire and pain flaring in his eyes. I could see that it hadn’t occurred to him that I still got hit on when he was overseas. Remorse and understanding fell over his features, and he nodded in submission.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Still, ya need to pay fer leavin’ the bar without me.”

His fingers picked up their pace and my face scrunched up in agony. I wasn’t gonna get out of this by distracting him, and I was left with no choice but to accept my punishment. Still, I had to try.

“Sy, no don’t--” I managed to get out before he was squeezing those tendons between his thumbs and fingers, pinching every last ticklish nerve along my thighs. I thrashed and screamed, the highest-pitched squeals tumbling from my lips as he laid waste to my secret weakness, fluttering his fingers all over my mound. Time lost all meaning; had it been five minutes? Ten? I didn’t know, all I knew was that instead of tickles, my tortured pussy desired nothing more than for him to split me open and fuck me into the next century.

“NO MORE!” I begged, “SY PLEEEHEHEASE!! NO MOOOHOHORE!!”

His fingers froze and Syverson cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Ya gonna try and fight back?” he questioned, positioning his elbows on either side of my head.

“No sir,” I breathed.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled. My eyes softened and I gazed at his face, desperate to touch him, to comfort him.

“I belong to you.”

“Good girl.”

Sy released my arms and I wrapped them around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder as he did the same to me, thrusting into me to be as close as he could. He was hard as a rock, it took no more than five seconds before he was bottomed out and we two had become one flesh. It was an old song and dance and yet every time still felt like the first.

Syverson held me close as I clung to him fiercely, my tears weaving a wet trail into my hair as his embrace coiled around me, suffocating me in the best of ways.

“I’ll be back before you know it, bug,” He crooned against my cheek, but I could hear how choked up he was and I lost it. I would never get used to him leaving.

“You better be,” I sobbed, never wanting this night to end. Tomorrow brought pain, and separation.

“Now now, no tears,” Sy shushed, cradling my face in his hands and wiping the salt that threatened to stain my face. He thrust into me, hard and wanting and I gasped, pitching my hips to meet his. My cervix was on fire, the slightest movement would send me barreling over the edge into bliss. I saw a glint in Sy’s eye, one that told me he was about to be devilishly mischievous and my arms were brought to rest above my head, fingers interlocked with mine, and kisses alighted on my nose and neck as his lips found their way to my ear.

“Keep your arms up, bug,” he ordered, his fingertips spidering softly down my arms. No, I thought, squirming my hips and then gasping in shock as pleasure rocked through my center. Not this. Anything but this. His voice came searing into my mind, sealing my fate with one phrase.

“Yer gonna learn not to start somethin’ ya can’t finish.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill tickle fic #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fan fiction #captain syverson smut #captain syverson tickle fic #tickle fic #tickle fan fic

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jgukmilk · 3 years

Text

he won’t know 03 (m) final

➔ summary: after weeks of hiding from the world, your friend, Mina, finally convinces you to crawl out of your cave and join her at a friday-frat party. You definitely didn’t think you’d end up with the person you had spent several weeks trying to avoid.

➔ pairing: Jungkook X Reader

➔ genre: cheating!au, smut, angst if you squint, much deserved fluff fucking finally

➔ warnings: mention of sexual assault, unprotected sex, soft sex because i’m a whore for that shit, jungoo is the one crying in this part, jungoo being a soft idiot nothing out of the ordinary, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), handjob, fingering, mild dirty talk, cervix kisses :), cum eating, throat fucking•_•, runny mascara because it’s chef’s kiss, soft dom jungoo, a really lame biology pick up line at the end that i am pathetically proud of, that’s it..? it’s unedited btw :P

➔ wordcount: 8.3k

➔ a/n: this was a bitch to finish but holy fuck. hope you enjoy ;) feedback is always appreciated !

part 1, part 2, part 3 final.

It had officially been seventeen and-a-half days since Jungkook came to visit you at your dorm, only to end up in you crying your eyes out in front of him and shove him out of your room.

Mina came home later that night and questioned your tear-stained cheeks. Did you tell her? No, of course not. You brushed it off and convinced her that you were having a hard time with the breakup with Jaehyun, that everything was still so fresh, and you simply just needed time. Though that was as far from the truth as it could possibly be, she believed you regardless which you were thankful for.

You didn’t miss Jaehyun, not one bit. You hadn’t seen him after your last encounter, and you thanked your stars daily. To be honest you weren’t given a chance to run into that asshole since you had reduced your time spent outside of the dorm.

Your schedule pretty much consisted of wake up, go to your classes, come back to the dorm, study, eat, sleep, repeat. It sounded like one of those shabby T-shirt every twelve-year-old would wear back in middle school and show it off for being ‘quirky’.

You weren’t complaining, you preferred things this way, for now at least. Though you couldn’t deny that you missed your friends, but you needed some time alone and you knew that, so to distract yourself from missing your friends, what better way to do so than studying till the ass-crack of dawn on a Friday night.

Fridays were the only day of the week you could spend peacefully unbothered. Every other day would consist of countless texts and calls from your friends asking about your whereabouts and why they almost never saw you around campus anymore.

To which you told them you were busy studying and thanked them for checking in on you. It wasn’t a complete lie, you were, in fact, busy studying. They never saw you because, you were always on your desk burying your face between the pages of a textbook. What you didn’t tell them was that you were so far ahead with the curriculum that you could go a whole two weeks without even touching any of your books and you wouldn’t be behind.

You never realized how much you had read ahead until a few days ago when your biology professor had only begun to teach you about DNA replication, transcription and translation. You had already covered half of it.

Your professor always did say that the unspoken rule of studies was to always read ahead. Though you didn’t think he meant to this certain extent.

You hadn’t felt academic stress in a while due to your habit of studying so much, and you were happy about it of course, but holy fuck, you were so bored, and it was starting to get to you.

“Y/N!” perfect timing for your best friend to break you out of your thoughts. Mina happily pranced through your shared dorm room and over to you, “Mina” you said back, smiling, although not in the same enthusiasm, meh – A for effort.

“Oh my god, you’re actually awake,” she said, placing herself on her bed while remaining eye contact with you.

“Well yeah, I have some topics I still need to cover before I go to bed,” Lies. You certainly didn’t have any topics you needed to cover. You would’ve gone to bed if you knew Mina was coming back to the dorm so early. It was Friday night after all, which meant that Mina was out partying with the rest of the guys. Not today, apparently.

“Isn’t there a party today?” you asked, flipping through the pages of the book in front of you, pretending to read through the paragraphs that seemed like nothing more than dull words.

“Well… yeah, but, I figured I’d rather spend my night with you – you know, since it’s... it’s been a while,” you immediately stopped fiddling with the paper, “oh,” was all you could say. “I-I mean, if you wanna study, you totally can! I don’t want to interrupt or – or anything.” You shook your head, “no, no… uhm, I could use a break anyway.” Her face relaxed.

“So… how’ve you been?” you looked around the room, “I’m okay, just studying, nothing else really,” you reassured her “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said, barely above a whisper, however you could still make out the melancholic tone hidden behind her voice.

“yeah… I’m sorry, I’m just – “

“studying? Yeah that seems to be your entire world lately.” She cut you off, her voice a little louder than it was previously. You opened your mouth to respond but – “Y/N c’mon, I know I haven’t necessarily been with you physically lately, but I’m not oblivious. Our exams are in a couple of months and you’re studying as if they’re tomorrow.” She explained all in one breath, “the curriculum this semester isn’t even that content-heavy, even the professors told us we could take it easy.”

“where are you going with this?” you asked in a weak voice. She seemed to have you all figured out. You truly underestimated how well your best friend understood you. “I just want to know why? Why are you avoiding your friends… why are you avoiding me?”

And then it came back. Everything you had been trying to avoid for the past two weeks came back. Jaehyun, the cheating, the assault, Jungkook. You began to feel your eyes stinging, subconsciously you averted them towards the ceiling. “Y/N, there’s something you’re not telling me. I want to help, please let me help.”

You made your way towards the bed, seating yourself next to her, “is this about Jaehyun? Do you miss hi–“

“No, God no I don’t, I’m so happy he’s out of my life,” she looked at you perplexed. And so, you told her. You told her absolutely everything, all the way from Jaehyun trying to touch you when you were trying to explain yourself to him, to the conversation you had with Jungkook in your dorm room several days ago.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you swiftly reached for her hand as you saw her attempt to rush out of your shared dorm, “no! I… It’s over now, he’s out of my life, there’s no reason to go look for him.”

“Of course there is! Why didn’t you–!” She yelled, however quickly stopped herself to calm down. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? He’s getting away with this when he deserves to rot in hell.” It wasn’t that simple. You never wanted to see him again, and telling any form of authority about what had happened certainly meant you were going to cross paths with him often.

Plus, it wasn’t even likely that they would’ve believed you, after all it was your word against his. There was no physical evidence of what he had done. You had your ripped clothes but you threw those away the day after the incident, you never wanted to look at them again and be reminded of this crap.

Then you had the bruises on your wrist, but Jaehyun could easily say that you guys had been into some sort of bdsm to make them believe him. They were also healed now, so there was no evidence at all to secure your side.

“I don’t want to constantly be reminded of what he did, I just want to move forward. Please, you can’t tell anyone.” Your voice cracked at the end, in which Mina reached out to hold your hand. “I don’t want anyone to know,” you cried.

“I’m so sorry, bug,” Mina rubbed your back empathetically, in a subtle attempt to calm you down. Though Mina tried her best to not scream at the top of her lungs, spitting out every profanity to curse Jaehyun. This wasn’t about her, and she knew that very well.

All she could do was comfort you and listen to everything you had bottled up for weeks. “You know what you need?” she smiled at you gently. You sniffled, rubbing your red, tear-stained cheeks, “what?”

“You need fresh air, to doll up and feel good! We all miss you so much Y/N, I don’t want you to spend another Friday night in here alone by yourself.” You raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue, “Wooyoung’s parent are out of town for the weekend so he’s hosting are party.”

“And?”

“And we’re going!” she clapped excitingly, “no Mina I–“ she held both your hands tightly, puppy eyes were presented right in front of you, “pleaseeee, just for an hour, you can leave after that if you don’t like it.”

You thought about it for a moment. You did deserve a break, you needed to get out of the dorm anyway, have some fun with your friends, maybe even get a bit of well-deserved alcohol in your system.

“Fuck it, let’s do i–“

“YES! Okay, okay I know exactly what you’re wearing.” She rushed over to her closet, rummaging through fabric after fabric while you silently watched behind her, seated on your own bed. “Put this on right now,” You didn’t get a good look at the clothing item she threw at you, all you knew was that the fabric was quite tiny. It was a beautiful dark navy and black fabric that was smooth to the touch.

It was a woolen, striped bodycon dress. True to its name – it looked very tight. You looked at her perplexed, “that’s me being nice. My other option was throwing you my skirt that would barely cover your juicy ass.” You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “fine, what shoes with?” she pointed at your black high-top converse that were placed neatly by the door. Alright, black converse it was.

–

“Y/N?” was the first thing you heard when walking through the door, entering the crowd of drunks. Before you stood your friends, the friends you had missed oh so much. Jimin was the first to run to you, lifting you off the ground to swing you around, “Y/N!” He laughed excitingly. Right behind him stood Seokjin, “Okay, I’ve had too much to drink guys I’m starting see Y/N,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Hi Jin.”

One by one, they each gave you a heartwarming hug. Wow, you missed them, and you didn’t even realize, “about time you got out of the damn dorm,” Taehyung complained, you playfully slapped his shoulder. “You don’t get to say shit, you rot in your own dorm just as much as I do when you don’t have classes,” smiling, he scoffed, “I have altered my ways, about time you did too,” you shook your head.

You hadn’t noticed that an hour had already passed by, and you didn’t want to leave one bit. Your night was just getting started. Looking around you spotted all your friends, all but two. Neither had you seen the entire party: Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Jin!” you loudly spoke through the banging music, “yeah?!” he replied, “have you seen Yoongi?” you cupped your mouth in attempt to speak as clearly as possible, “What?! No thank you! I don’t wan’t Oolong tea. There’s booze why would I want tea?!” You rubbed your face, dragging Jin’s ear closer to your mouth, “Have you seen Yoongi?”

“OW, Jesus woman.” He rubbed his ear, “He should be in the kitchen,” you thanked him, and apologetically smiled for almost ripping his ear off.

You skipped your way through the heavy crowd of drunk youth. Some of which even looked younger than that. A string of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ was heard from you as you pushed your way to the kitchen.

“Yoongi?” he turned around, seeing you. He eyed the drink in his hand that resembled the color of piss, “I’ve had too much,” the bottom of the cup now faced the ceiling, the remainder of the liquid spilling down the edge of the cup and down the sink.

“Okay, you guys really have to stop doing that,” you laughed.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” The mint-haired boy asked in a monotone, your smile faltered.

“I’m happy to see you too?” your voice was skeptical. He seemed annoyed, which frankly, you didn’t understand. You hadn’t seen the man in well over two weeks, no way had he found a reason to be mad at you unless you had happened to eat the last lamb skewer in his dream. He always did love his lamb skewers.

“’M sorry, my head’s spinning,” instantly your suspicion was replaced with worry. You quickly made your way to the sink and filled a glass with cold water and handed it to him, which he gratefully accepted. “How’ve you been?”

You sighed, “you want the rainbow-sprinkled version or the one that was dragged through the mud, shat and pissed on,” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll take the piss-stained version, thank you.” He placed the red, water filled plastic cup next to him on the kitchen counter.

“Rough couple of weeks. I’m doing better though, so that’s something.” You shrugged your shoulders. Yoongi listened carefully, gently tilting his head to the side anticipating for you to keep going, however you didn’t, that was all you were going to say. Yoongi wasn’t stupid, clearly something had happened to make you disappear for weeks, but whatever it was it had to remain unknown for him – he wasn’t going to push you to talk to him.

“And where’s Jaehyun been through all of this?” he speculated.

“Uhm, we broke up,” you tried to laugh it off. His brows raised in surprise.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry–“ your hands swung in front of you to shake them. To Yoongi, you had most likely looked like you were sad from the breakup, understandably so. Afterall that is the typical reaction to a breakup, isn’t it?

“Don’t be! My god, no. It could – I’m not –“ you closed your eyes, sighing gently, “It was for the best.”

“I’m not going, Tae,” Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger, attempting to rub the non-existing headache out of his temples.

“Come on, Jungkook. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve partied with all of us,” a hot minute, was putting it lightly. Jungkook was currently in his own shared dorm with Taehyung, with a black DualShock controller seated in his lap – enjoying a game of overwatch shortly before Taehyung had dialed his number. Several empty packets of ramen placed randomly across the room.

Different flavors of course. Variety was important.

“Can’t. ‘m busy.” Though Jungkook couldn’t see it, he was sure Taehyung had rolled his eyes through the other line. “Busy my ass,” Taehyung sighed, “you do this every week.”

“I wouldn’t have to do this every week if you would just stop asking,” Jungkook spat back, with a little more attitude than he had intended. “Jungshi,” the older friend started, “you can’t let this bother you forever,” he knew. Fuck, no one knew better than Jungkook that he couldn’t spend the rest of eternity sulking over this. Over you.

But no one knew how Jungkook was feeling either, every living fiber of his felt either conflicted or guilty. He couldn’t help but think that what had happened to you, was partially his fault – no, it was entirely his fault. Whatever Jaehyun had done was because of Jungkook.

Your words circled back and forth in his mind, day and night. Whenever he closed his eyes all he could see was your tear-stained orbs looking at him with so much hurt and hatred. Telling him to leave and that you never wanted to see him again.

All he wanted to do was talk to you, to know how you were feeling. Were you okay? Were you not? Jungkook had to make peace with the fact that he might in fact never get any answer for any of his questions. All he wanted was to see you, just for one small, useless moment.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Frankly, it seemed like you had completely vanished from the face of the earth, even the guys hadn’t seen you. He managed to get a hold of Mina a few times, briefly asking of your whereabouts. She always tried her best to console and reassure him that you were okay, you were just always busy lately.

Busy.

You were always busy. Jungkook wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what it meant: you were escaping.

Busy.

Oh, how Jungkook had grown to hate that word. How very hypocritical of him, he was mentally scolding you for using the lame excuse of being ‘busy’, all while doing the exact same behind the screen of his phone to his best friend.

“I just need time, hyung.” Jungkook tried to justify. “Time?” Taehyung scoffed, “You’ve had two weeks. I’m sorry Guk, but I’m not gonna sit around while I watch you completely lose yourself.” The younger slid further down the chair, staring blankly at the bright screen displaying the home-screen of his favorite video game.

“She’s here.”

Silence…

You… you were there? He could see you. Jungkook had a chance to see you. “Good to know,” was all he could say. “And you don’t give a rat’s ass?” Of course, he did, but he couldn’t because, “she doesn’t want to see me, hyung. If I show up, I’ll ruin her night. She isn’t hiding from the world anymore.”

“You can’t be sure– “

“Yes, I can,” Jungkook closed his eyes, a small exhale moved past his lips, “I can’t ruin this. Please don’t make me ruin this for her.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He felt weak. He couldn’t describe the growing urge he felt to rush over to whatever party you were at, just to see you. But he couldn’t be selfish. Not again.

Last time he acted selfishly he hurt you. He lost you. He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse – after all, you were out of his life, but Jungkook wasn’t willing to be daring, not if it meant it would hurt you again.

“Fine,” an extended beep was heard from the small speaker of the phone. Completely defeated, Jungkook gently threw his phone back onto his bed. Leaning back in his chair he faced the ceiling. He couldn’t seem to get himself to play another game, so shutting everything down, he went to get himself ready for bed.

Diving under the cool, fluffy sheets didn’t seem to be enough for Jungkook to knock out, which was odd. Jungkook could easily fall asleep anywhere on anything. One time he even managed to fall into a deep sleep after downing two 500ml Monster energy drinks. He had planned to pull an all-nighter with some of his online friends for a good few games of Valorant, the best way to do so was to shove an insanely unhealthy amount of energy drinks down the hatch.

He didn’t expect it to be so easy to fall asleep right away – he didn’t even remember walking over to his bed before dropping dead. But this, this was just frustrating.

He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, until when he finally felt his eyelids become heavy, a key was heard jiggling in the lock of the door. It must’ve taken Jungkook longer to fall asleep than he had anticipated if Taehyung had already decided to leave the party; that boy wouldn’t leave a party unless bits of the morning sunlight was peeking through the windows of the house of the host.

The door finally opened. Jungkook squinted his eyes, adjusting to the new light shining through the door frame. A black silhouette walked pasted the door. It wasn’t until Jungkook’s blurry vision had cleared up that he noticed a feminine like figure standing at the door. Not just anybody, no.

You. In fact.

Jungkook felt his heart begin to tie knots. He was dreaming for sure; there was no way you could just appear in his dorm of all dorms. But there you were, in the flesh. You gently clasped the bundle of keys in your palm, preventing them from making any further noise, taking soft strides through the room – you probably thought he was asleep.

You quietly made your way over to Taehyung’s bed, opening the drawer of his nightstand. Jungkook’s eyes monitoring your every move went completely unnoticed by you. The poor boy was in awe, it was like you were an angel that had descended from heaven and blessed him with your presence. Frankly, in Jungkook’s eyes, you were an angel.

You let a small aha slip past your lips, in your hands was a turquoise polaroid camera. You neared the delicate camera to your face, making sure it was the right item through the darkness, and indeed it was.

About to make your way out of the dorm, your head turned slightly; in the direction of the boy that was currently sweating his balls off and his heart pounding like crazy. Fuck, did you see him looking at you? You must’ve, you wouldn’t look at him otherwise. Could you hear his heart beating through his ribcage? That has to be it, after all it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

He hurriedly closed his eyes, praying to the lord above that for once in Jungkook’s cursed life, the spirits would work in his favor. God, if you do this for me, I won’t fart on Taehyung’s head pillow anymore.

You slowly made your way over to Jungkook’s bed, with each step you took he felt a new set of sweat gather in his warm palms. He couldn’t feel anything, all he heard was the shuffle of his blanket. The blanket that was supposed to be on him.

While Jungkook had gone unnoticed to you, the absence of his soft, grey blanket on his body had been completely disregarded. He had tossed so much in his unreachable sleep that he had kicked his blanket right off of him.

Not only did Jungkook feel his body overcome in warmth, but his heart also danced at the thought of you going out of your way to cover him in his blanket. Your kindness really was out of this world.

No matter how many times someone had hurt you, you never failed to leave the ways of resentment and treat people with kindness. You were truly too kind for your own good. That was one of your qualities that Jungkook was most fond of, the world didn’t deserve you. it didn’t deserve an angel.

You on the other hand, were completely oblivious to the fact that the man in front of you was wide awake. You crouched down by the side of his bed, you really should get going, you weren’t supposed to linger for so long.

Your eyes trailed the sleeping beauty on the bed. He looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheek, a few of the hairs grazing the scar on right side of the skin. His dark hair was sprawled over his forehead. His lips were sealed, but slightly pouty, they looked so soft.

You couldn’t make much of his face, the only source of light being the moon light throw the window.

You hand moved on its own. Fingers trailing to the strands of the dark hair, moving the silky locks out of his face.

You wish things had been different between you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss Jungkook, which is the exact lie you had been telling yourself for weeks. Even though he was right in front of you, you missed him. No, fuck. You couldn’t miss him, even though you wanted things to be different, they never could be.

You snapped out of your daze, removing your hands from his face, you stood up and turned your heel.

“Don’t leave.” You flinched, a small holy shit, was heard from you. Turning back around, you saw Jungkook in the exact same position you had left him in, the only difference was that his eyes were now open. The warm orbs you were completely dazed by were now looking at you.

You had to leave, but you couldn’t, your feet grew minds of their own, obediently staying in place.

Jungkook sat up from his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. He was now seated at the edge of his bed, hands on either side of his thighs, tightly clenching on the sheets beneath him in order to prevent himself from reaching out after you.

There was no exchange of words, you were both lost in each other’s gazes. You were clutching your jacket tightly, looking like a dear caught in head lights. You took a step backwards, gathering every ounce of power you had in your body to try and get out of there. You just couldn’t stay.

“Please,” his voice sounded broken. There it was again – the expression on his face you had never learned to read. His eyelids were droopy, eyebrows relaxed yet slightly furrowed.

He rose from his bed, testing the waters. He examined your reaction before moving any further. When he saw you standing completely still, he took a step forward; you didn’t move, so he took yet another step. That’s when you started to back away, you didn’t look scared or alarmed, so he continued.

This kept going until the back of your thighs met a desk you had failed to notice was there in the first place. You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings.

Jungkook was now in front of you, eyes looking at yours, searching for any sign of uncertainty. But all he saw was sadness and hurt. His heart clenched in discomfort, because partially – if not all – of the hurt in your eyes was because of him.

He wanted to pour his heart out to you, tell you he was sorry for being an asshole. Tell you he would cut his heart into pieces and hand it to you one by one if that’s what it took to make you happy.

But he wanted to be cautious, he didn’t want to scare you off. So instead, he carefully, carefully, lifted his hand up to your face. The knuckle of his middle finger grazed the side of your cheek. You didn’t flinch.

He extended his fingers to hold your cheek in his palm, his thumb ever so slightly caressing the flush skin. It wasn’t until you leaned into his touch that he felt how warm you were. He could barely make out the light tint of a rosy color on your cheeks. Must’ve been from the booze you’ve ingested at the party, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you had barely had enough alcohol to call yourself tipsy.

Deep in your own thoughts, you felt Jungkook’s other hand slip around your waist, the fingers on your cheek descended down to accompany his other hand.

He was hugging you. His face was buried right in the crook of your neck, arms securely wrapped around your frame, fearing for his dear life that you were going to let go of him. His fragile soul couldn’t take it if you did.

You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to hug him back, not until you felt the skin on your shoulder grow wet. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, barely above a whisper – audible to your ear, nonetheless.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your sides lamely. His eyes were glossy, the tip of his nose red, and a few tears had trailed down his cheeks, leaving stains of the salty water. “I’m – It’s my fault, all of it, I know I don’t deserve it but please forgive me.” he sniffled, “I know you hate me, and you have every right to – “

“I don’t hate you,” for the first time that night, you spoke to him. Your voice instantly sedated the distress in Jungkook. You wiped the tears streaming down his face with your cold thumb, which only caused more to fall. “You should… It’s all my fault.”

Although that had been your exact theory for the past weeks, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that the statement was true anymore. You continuously blamed Jungkook for everything that had happened to you, but that wasn’t fair, you realized that now.

Because if Jungkook really was at fault, then so were you. After all, it takes two to tango.

“It’s not,” you tried to soothe the tremendous guilt you could recognize behind his doe eyes, it was the exact same guilt you had felt when you returned from the weekend at the summerhouse. The same guilt that had eaten every bit of your fiber. Blaming yourself for days for having cheated on your now ex-boyfriend who turned out to be the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth.

“You didn’t force me to do anything,” you admitted, “but that fucker – “ Jaehyun, Jungkook hissed.

“Anything that came after the summerhouse wasn’t your fault. Jaehyun showed me who he really was – an asshole in disguise,” at the mention of what you had been through, Jungkook’s grip on your sides tightened slightly. You knew he was blaming himself for what Jaehyun had done.

It wasn’t anyone but Jaehyun’s fault.

You cupped his face in both your hands, smiling softly, “please stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over.” You spoke to him, but also to yourself.

For the longest time you thought it was your fault, that if you hadn’t slept with Jungkook, that you and Jaehyun would still be happy and he would never had touched you like he did.

You and Jaehyun hadn’t been happy for a while, and if he hadn’t snapped you would’ve continued to date A-level garbage.

It took you some time to realize that it was never your fault, and it most certainly wasn’t Jungkook’s fault. Your stomach dropped at the thought of him blaming himself so mercilessly.

He sniffled harder at your words, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorr–“

The kiss was soft. You could tell he completely froze against your lips. Your hands were still on his cheeks; the feel of the occasional tear grazed the skin of your fingers. It didn’t take long for him to melt completely against the plush of your warm lips.

His arms moved back around your waist, pulling you against him until you were flush against his chest. You pulled away. He followed you, refusing that’d be the end of your kiss. His pleading lips captured yours in a second kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss, not having much room to move them any place else when Jungkook was pressing himself so hard against you.

“I missed you,” he breathed between the kiss “so much.” Fuck, if only he knew how much you had missed him, “I couldn’t bare not having you around me.” You hummed against his mouth, hoping he understood that you reciprocated.

You felt his warm tongue scrape against your top lip, pleading to have a taste of yours. You complied easily. Opening your mouth for him to explore the heavenly wonder that was your mouth.

You had kissed Jungkook before, but this felt different, it was softer, much more gentle. The gliding of his tongue against yours felt new, but so right.

You soon came to the agreement that kissing Jungkook was one of your favorite things to do. The slow dance of your lips increased the beating of your heart, you were sure he could feel it knock against his chest.

He lifted your body, as if you were a feather and seated you on the desk behind you, standing right between your legs. His hands resting on either thigh, gently caressing the bare flesh.

Your lips suddenly felt cold, opening your eyes you found Jungkook’s brown orbs staring right at you. Worry began to creep its way up your spine. “What’s wrong?”

“Do… Do you want me to stop?”

He was being careful. Careful not to cross any boundaries. He couldn’t fuck up again, not this time. You smiled at him. Taking his hand in yours, you placed a peck at the top of his palm, “not at all.”

Jungkook swears his heart melted then and there; the softness in your eyes, the relaxed tone of your voice, there was no hesitation. You felt safe, which was everything Jungkook ever wanted.

He leaned back in, you closed your eyes, puckering up thinking he was going in for another kiss. You felt a pair of soft bud-like lips at the side of your jaw, “beautiful,” he whispered to himself. He kissed the top of your covered shoulder.

You leaned back slightly, both hands steady behind you to support you weight. Jungkook leaned forward, following you, refusing that any sort of distance was between you.

Even though you had given him the ok, you could feel Jungkook was slightly hesitant in his moves, which was nothing like the Jungkook you had in front of you almost an entire month ago. He was so confident and cocky, yet now, he seemed unsure.

He was afraid of touching you and screwing up everything.

“I won’t leave this time,” you whispered, moving your head so that you were now looking at him, “I’m not gonna run away.” You took his hand in yours, guiding them towards your tits. Jungkook watched in awe as his hand completely engulfed your breast.

You let go of his hand when you felt him begin to fondle with the perky tit. He moved back to your neck, but instead of small affectionate kisses, he now began to place open-mouthed kisses at the expanse of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, allowing him more space; you felt the corners of his lips curl slightly.

You gasped at the feeling of his tongue gliding over the skin, slapping your hand over your mouth. While one of his hands were busy with your chest, the other removed the hand from your face, “don’t, you sound so pretty.”

The fingers that were once wrapped around your hand moved down your torso, grazing the apex of your thigh. With his mouth still busy on your neck, he hoisted the length of your stripped dress (that was actually Mina’s), just enough to expose most of your legs, but not enough to reveal the fabric of your underwear.

The pad of his cold fingers slithered over the black textile experimentally. Carefully brushing over your clothed clit, you whimpered. You sounded downright touch deprived.

The lustful boy in front of you began sucking on your neck, all while cupping your clothed cunt without warning. “Fuck,” You jumped at the overwhelming touch.

“So sensitive” he mumbled, “aren’t you, angel,” you hummed at the rightfully missed affectionate name. You gripped his shoulders when you felt him massage a little harsher at your mound. Your underwear was beginning to stick to your folds embarrassingly fast.

Jungkook curled a finger around the section of fabric that was directly against your pussy. Providing access for his hand to touch your warmth without removing your underwear. A muffled, high pitched moan of his name rolled off your tongue at his slender finger sliding into your velvety walls.

You were already so wet, and you were sure he noticed how embarrassed you were about it, with the way you were discreetly trying to close your legs.

He used his other hand to keep your legs apart. “Don’t be shy,” he soothed, “I love this pretty” he scraped his finger against the spongy spot, “pretty pussy.”

“Jungkook, please,” you whined, it only caused Jungkook to chuckle whole-heartedly at your neediness, “what is it, baby?” he pressed his thumb against your clit, gently tapping at it. You shuttered.

“I, fuck, I–“ your thighs began to tense, “tell me,” he urged. You were trying your best, but every sentence you were attempted to formulate was instantly thrown out the window the second Jungkook added another finger into your cunt.

His fingers were scraping at your walls, pumping into you or scissoring. The dangerous combination of all of the above, and his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns on your nub had you seeing stars.

Too focused on his magical fingers, you overlooked the small detail of Jungkook now sitting between your thighs, kneeling. He rubbed your thigh soothingly.

Deciding to help you out, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around the lame excuse of your panties, dragging the pathetic fabric down your legs. You were now completely exposed.

Jungkook eyes you between your legs, shamelessly. “Pretty girl,” he wooed. He pulled his fingers out of you, you whined at the empty feeling.

He brought his soaked fingers up to his tongue, slowly licking them clean, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Telling yourself you could cum from the sight alone was in no way an understatement.

“Mmm, good, so fucking good.” He purred against his fingers. “Bet it would taste even better from here,” teasingly, he slid his finger up your soaked slit, punctuating his sentence, “wouldn’t it, angel?” You quivered at his words. “is that what you want?” yes. “your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes – Yes, please. Please eat me out,” without further ado, Jungkook wasted no time placing a much-deserved kiss on your swollen bud. You moaned in relief, throwing your head back at the feeling of Jungkook’s lips circling your clit.

You bucked your hips at the feeling of his tongue sloppily gliding against your folds. Your fingers found themselves tangled in Jungkook’s dark and messy locks. He praised you.

Small grunts and low moans were felt against your warm cunt, “such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself against you. You clenched around nothing at the compliment.

“Feels so good,” you cooed, “yeah?” small licks turned into long laps, “yeah – fuck, don’t stop.” Stopping was the furthest thing from Jungkook’s mind.

You felt knots beginning to tie at the pit of your stomach, Jungkook could easily feel you were about to burst. The constant tugging of his hair and the pulsating cunt was all he needed, to know he was doing his job right.

“I love seeing you so needy for me,” at this point, you’re chanting his name shamelessly. It isn’t until Jungkook adds a finger lamely circling your clit that you feel you’re about to snap. The familiar ache between your legs became almost unbearable, you threw your head back and shut your eyes.

“Eyes on me when you cum,” you obliged. Bending your head forward to watch Jungkook eat your cunt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The view was the most sinful yet the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. His brows are furrowed, he murmured against your warmth. You occasionally saw the tip of his nose, and when you did it was absolutely soaked in your arousal.

“Oh my fuck– Jungkook.”

It’s only when Jungkook uttered his next sentence that you felt the knot in your stomach unravel. “Fuck, baby, I could eat you out for the rest of my life,” you’re breaking apart.

Your hips surge forward, pathetically grinding on Jungkook’s face — he lets you. Helping you ride out your high, he slowly laps his tongue over your spasming pussy. He’s watching your every move, “delicious,” he smiled innocently as if his mouth wasn’t completely covered in your cum.

He stood up once again, licked his lips clean in the process and you swore you just felt something trail down your thigh. Once he was at eye-level with you, you looked down and saw the tent that has formed in his sweatpants.

Naturally, you go to grab his cock. Not wanting to waste time, you wrapped your fingers around it over the material. He visibly shuttered at the feeling, and it wasn’t until then that you realized you hadn’t touched Jungkook – at all. Not even back at the summer house.

Here you were, complaining over how selfish Jaehyun used to be whenever you two were having sex, saying he never touched you properly or showed any ounce of effort.

You weren’t any different. So far, Jungkook had only been the giver, and you had been a spoiled pillow princess.

Trailing your eyes back up to Jungkook, you watched him carefully as you curled a finger around the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously, dragging the unnecessary material down his legs.

His cock sprung up, hitting his stomach. The tip was red and hot, several drops of precum dripped down the angry shaft. He was impossibly hard and you began to feel guilt overcome you for having been so selfish with pleasure. Determined to make it up to him, you placed all five tips of your fingers at the very apex of his cock, sliding down until your palm comes in contact with the tip.

The prettiest whine you’d ever heard rolled off of Jungkook’s lips, he watched you attentively, “y-you don’t have to–“ you shushed him, “I want to.”

You twist your wrist and positioned your fingers around his dick. Using your thumb to spread the precum, you lightly brush his frenulum in which he grunts, “fuck, babyyy,” unintentionally thrusting up into your hand.

You squeezed harder and began to pump his cock. The surprising rotation of your wrist was enough to have him slap both hands on either side of the desk, completely trapping you.

“Faster,” he pleads, “go faster,” and you do. His head drops down to your shoulder. He tried to distract himself by sucking another bruise onto the skin of your neck, but it was completely hopeless with the pace your hand was pumping.

Rhythmically, he was subtly thrusting his hips into your hand, matching the pace. He couldn’t wait to fuck you, so for the time being, he had to fuck your hand. And God, it felt so good it was almost pathetic how much a handjob could rile him up.

You felt his hips stutter, and now it was his turn to chant your name. You placed a soothing kiss on the expanse of his shoulder, “Mmm gonna – haah, shit,” You hurriedly pushed him back gently and dropped to your knees. “What are you – Fuck!”

Most of his length is now shoved down as much as your gag reflex allows, and it isn’t until you have Jungkook’s cock halfway down your throat that you realize how fucking impressive his size is. The thought of having him stretch you out with his girth is enough to make you wet all over again.

Jungkook can’t resist collecting your strands of hair up into a ponytail and piston into your mouth, “s-sorry, I’m sorry,” strings of apologies are heard throughout the room, along with the sound of you choking. Your eyes begin to sting, fresh tears falling down the side of your cheek. He continues to fuck your throat, and contrary to his belief, you fucking love it.

You steady yourself by grabbing the sides of his thighs. Echoes of Jungkook’s moans and heavy sighs fill the room, alongside the sound of his cock continuously thrusting down your throat.

“so pretty, you’re s-so fucking pretty like this,” you hum at his praise, “like the feeling of my cock down your throat, huh? Dirty girl, fuck,” at this point your mascara had completely stained your cheeks.

The sight of your brows furrowed, eyes filled with tears, mascara-stained cheeks, and the absolute cherry on top: Jungkook repeatedly plunging his impossibly hard cock down your sore throat, was all it took for him to blow his load.

You’ve never heard such a moan come from Jungkook, it sounded broken and you’re certain it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever hear in your life. You felt the warm, white liquid coat the walls of your cheeks and throat and you made sure to swallow every single drop.

You’re stopped from licking his dick clean when Jungkook pulls you back up to meet him at eye level. He lifts you up to sit at the desk again, hands on either side of you, he looks you dead in the eye, “I want to fuck you,” he says bluntly.

Your eyes widen slightly at his directness. Confused, you look down at his dick and holy fuck – he was still incredibly hard. Seriously, this boy had some serious stamina. You assumed his extraordinary stamina must’ve developed all those years in the gym.

You felt tiny under his gaze, you meet his eyes, nonetheless.

“Come here and fuck me then.” You felt bold when a shaky breath left his mouth. He hoisted both your legs up to his waist, causing you to lean back slightly, both your hands were forced to sit behind you once again to prevent yourself from falling backwards.

Without another word, Jungkook sealed the distance between your lips with a sweet kiss.

“Ohmygod–” was all you were able to say when his cock slowly disappeared inside of you, your walls of warmth hugging his length. Once again, you had underestimated just how big Jungkook actually was. He snaked a hand to meet the small of your back to steady himself before he finally began to pull himself out, leaving his tip, only to push back in.

You whined at the delicious stretch. Setting a fixed pace, Jungkook repeatedly thrusted into you, while his lips were busy on yours. You wrapped both arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hairs of his nape. “Mmm fuck,” he moaned deliciously against your lips.

“Feels good?” he asked, parting your lips with a soft chu. You nodded; your eyelids lazily drooped over your orbs; eyebrows scrunched together at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix. He felt so good.

“Say it,” he rasped, “tell me how good it feels,” his thrusts grew harder, “tell me how good I’m fucking this pretty pussy. My pussy,” his pussy, yes, it was his.

You cried at the claim. “It feels so good Guk – fuck I love when you fuck me like this.”

He pounded harder, as if he was trying to punctuate something. Both your breaths quickened, equally as eager to chase your own high as you were each other’s. Pushing his chests flush against yours, he leaned his forehead against yours, neither of you broke eye contact.

“L-love you,” he cried. “I love you.”

It felt as if all the air in your lungs was punched out of you, you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was Jungkook’s hips thrusting into yours unforgivingly, or if it was the fact that the boy you basically watched grow up happened to be the same person you’ve liked since middle-school, standing in front of you, telling you he loves you.

You lied to yourself, you genuinely thought whatever strong feeling you felt for Jungkook had died down, that you had truly moved on. You even got a boyfriend and all that.

But it wasn’t until you heard Jungkook utter those three words that you realized they never went away, no – you had hidden those feelings away in a box and chained several chains around it to keep them suppressed.

You loved him too, of course you did. You never stopped loving him for fucks sake. It pains you to think about how much crap both of you were put through for you to realize this.

“I love you.”

12-year-old Y/N was applauding and smiling like crazy; you finally said it. The love you had carried for Jungkook in your poor overwhelmed heart was finally spilled all over the table.

Jungkook’s hips stuttered at your reciprocating words. He hadn’t expected you to say it back, but for the love of all that is holy; he loved hearing you say it, it sounded so pretty coming from you. “Say it again,” he was now smiling, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

His eyes were glowing, so of course you had to say it again, “I love you. Fuck – I always have.”

“Again.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” completely out of breath, you caressed the side of his cheek, watching as his eyes teared up once again. He only fastened his pace, if that was even humanly possible. Lovingly, you ran your thumb across the scar that laid right on his cheek, “I am in love with you.”

That being said – Jungkook exploded, with you following right after him. You were holding on to each other for dear life, with slow pumps to help ride out your highs. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, at your final clench.

Small strings of I love you’s were heard from Jungkook who was breathlessly panting into your neck. He kissed your temple, guiding a small string of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he started, “I’ve been in love with you since freshman year of high school,” he smiled adoringly at you, “the first day we had a biology class, I saw you slip a note into my locker that read ‘if I could be a nitrogen base, I’d be adenine so I could be paired with U.’ and there was a small purple bellflower taped to the corner of the paper. You’ve had my heart ever since that day.”

Your eyes widened, physically cringing at yourself in your teenage years, “I can’t believe you knew it was me, and really? That’s what it took for you to like me back?” You giggled, “you can’t blame me, you were, and still are, extremely adorable.” He shrugged his shoulders. You gently pushed his shoulders, feeling your face turn red at the reminder of your rather sappy biology pick up line.

“Well, I’ve loved you since middle school. I win this one, Jeon.”

Saturday 02:57AM

“What’s taking so long, Y/N should be back by now,” Jin winced, eyeing the small watch on his wrist.

Taehyung and Mina looked at each other, “do you think it worked?” Mina questioned, a beaming smile plastered across her face, “yup,” Taehyung crossed his arms proudly. “Operation tell-Y/N-to-get-polaroid-camera-because-Taehyung’s-too-drunk-for-his-own-good-so-that-she-could-be-trapped-in-the-same-room-as-Jungkook-and-make-up… Was a success!”

taglist: @selinashere @jjenjen @ladyartemesia @emsuzz @iamjiminsfloor @silvlyjmhwa

#jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk smut #fluff #angst #he won't know #fanfic

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the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

Morning

MOVIE NOWHERE BOY

COUPLE PAUL X READER

RATING SMUT!!!!

I stood looking out the window seeing the dew across the grass and the clouds in the sky, the sky that strange colour before the sun rose but enough light that you could see. A little condensation on the inside of the window the little white paint slowly breaking off in little ways on the windowsill. My little box of guitar picks sat on one side on the other a small plant pot no bigger then tea cup with some dark dirt and a little yellow flower.

"Ummm paul. What are you doing up so early?" I heard her sweet voice smile her voice groggy and tried but still bubbly and sweet

"I can't sleep. I didn't mean to wake you" I told her turning away from the window closing the red curtains seeing the little room I had learnt to call my home.

I moved out of my dad's house he wanted to move away from the old place anyways, so I had got a little flat well I say flat it was a house someone divided up, I had the Downstairs and someone else lived upstairs I didn't know I rarely saw them honestly. My bedroom was nothing to shout about I had a double bed with soft white and red covers, a bedside table with a glass of water, the wardrobe built Into the wall, a chest of draws with my mirror, my comb and a few odds and ends scattered across the top a few boxers and socks leaking out the draws. But most importantly the most beautiful thing in my room...

Y/n, my sweet girlfriend. Laid in my bed wrapped up in the covers her sweet y/h/c hair matted and messy from tossing and turning in her sleep relaxed and loose from her usual sculpted curls. Her make up gone leaving her beautiful skin, pale lips and dark circles under her eyes. Her body was wrapped up so tight where she must have been cold, she saw me looking and sat up having a little strech keeping the covers around her waist as she wore only my white shirt that I usually had under my button downs using it as her nightie it falling slightly off her shoulder revealing bare skin from her Arm, shoulder and chest.

"You didn't, good morning" she cooed

"Good morning, what are you doing up so early?' I asked her going over and sitting on my bed hearing the springs creak as I did

"I missed you" she shurgs her shoulders playfully moving her head to one side with that adorable little smile "I got all lonesome without you" she giggled putting her knees up to her chest

"I'm sorry beautiful, I couldn't sleep is all. I didn't wanna bother you"

"It's okay, what are you thinking about?' she smiled moving down the bed and giving my nose a kiss "what's going on it that head"

"Just thinking"

"Your always thinking paul. You don't ever stop." She giggled "what are you thinking about?" She asks going back to lean against my headboard

"How beautiful you look in my bed."

"Awww your too sweet" she blushed

"You do. You really do y/n. I wish you could sleep in my bed every night"

"I'd like that too, maybe soon we could... Snuggle up every night and every morning" she giggled

"You- you'd really want to?"

"Of course I would, I love staying at yours" she giggled

"I love when you stay over too" I smiled giving her lips a little kiss "but if you want to then... I'd be happy for you to"

"Really?"

"Of course, y/n you stay here atleast four nights a week as it is. If you wanted to move in you'd be more than welcome" I smiled

"I'll think about it Mr" she giggled getting out of bed and giving my cheek a kiss she intentionally wiggled her butt as she walked my shirt barely concealing her from my eyes as she walked across the room and out the door to the rest of the apartment, I smiled looking at the mess she had made of my bed the pillows out of place, the covers a mess but I smiled you could almost see the indent in the old mattress where she always sleeps on this side when she wondered back she handed me a cup of tea and she sat back in bed with her own cup "what's the plan today?"

"I need a shower. Then tidy up, john's coming over got some stuff he needs to show me" I told her having a sip of tea

"Ummm" she hummed her fingers wrapped some delicately around the cup

"What's the ummm for?"

"That means we don't have time for cuddles this morning" she whined pulling a sad face at me

"You had cuddles. All night"

"But I'd like some more" she whines putting her tea down and opening her arms I smiled putting mine down to and giving her a hug she bundled up closely as snug as a bug with me I smiled and gave her a kiss before getting up leaving her all sad again

"I'm sorry beautiful, but I need my shower" I told her going to my draws getting some clothes for the day today

"Paul" she cooed making me turn to see her sat against the headboard my shirt hung low, the covers away from her, her knees pulled to her chest she smiled playfully at me with blush in her cheeks as she licked her lips looking at me and she opened her legs wide, my shirt doing nothing to conceal her, I couldn't help staring at her plump lips, her already engorged clit, her glistening pussy, her cute butt perched on my matress, I bit my lip hard feeling my shorts tighten just looking at her like that

"Ooh. I see." I smirked making sure my curtains where closed shutting the door to the rest of the apartment, I took a single specifically I put a spell on you. I know what that song does to her from the side throwing the paper on the dresser setting it on to spin and smirking crawling over ever with her "hummm my beautiful girl horny?" I whispered in her ear hearing the first beats of the song kick up she didn't even answer she just grabbed my face and pulled me to kiss her, I smirked kissing back adding a little tongue into the hot and heavy kiss till I pulled back winking at her before kissing down her jaw, then down her neck, down her chest feeling her breasts against me concealed by the shirt, I smirked wrapping my arms around her thighs licking her sweet pussy, kissing her clit and burying my head between her legs listening to her squeal playing with my hair oftentimes tugging or pushing when she wanted more, I licked and sucked and sometimes even gently nibbled on all her most sensitive of places I knew from years of dating, filled by her hormonal gasps and moans, I kept going becoming rather mercilous on her feeling her legs shaking as she got closer and closer to

"AAAAHHHHH! UUuughhhh! Paul!!! Uuuuuuughhh!" She sqeauled at the top of her lungs I smirked sitting up wiping my mouth with the back of my hand looking at her as she gasps calming down, in her own little wet patch from her squirt. I smirked down at her feeling myself throb for her, I pushed my shorts down revealing my hard erection she caught eyes on it immediately and blushed a little I smirked glancing down at myself and then back to her it was milliseconds but she knew what I wanted she smiled taking a gulp of the water on the side table before crawling down the bed and kissing her wet kisses all over my shaft

"Fuck beautiful-" I gasped feeling those soft kisses "y/n please!" I groaned struggling to watch those perfect lips kissing my cock she smiled up at me innocently and evily, before taking me completely in her mouth "uughhhh! Oohh god! Fuck! Y/n!" I moaned grabbing her hair my head thrown back in pleasure feeling her licks and sucks, moving her head back and forth, from base to tip. I pushed her back leaving her laid giggling at me I smirked pouncing on her and kissing those evil lips I knew I could taste myself on her lips and she could likely taste herself on my own but I didn't care I pulled back grabbing her hips and pushing her to lay on her stomach she giggled and did as I asked sitting her knees up, I moved and instantly slipped inside "fuck!! Y/n! Uuuuhhhhh!" I groaned not wasting a single second moving as fast, as hard, as deep as I possibly could listening to her scream all the while my hips working on there own going crazy just feeling his good she felt, the sounds of the bed creaking and sqeeking, our skin slapping together, get faster and faster "uuuuhhhhh uuuuhhhhh!! Y/n! Beautiful.... I'm gonna cum!" I groaned trying so hard not to loose it, I didn't need to last long I just wanna make her cum, one more time! She didn't respond still moaning and screaming for me, and I couldn't take it anymore I moved her slightly pulling her back against my chest so she now sat ontop of me reverse cowgirl as I sat on my knees I almost ripped my shirt off her leaving her naked moving her just as fast as I had been but my hands folding those sexy breasts making her screams get louder and louder feeling how much wetter she was getting as she was now practically dripping down my legs I moved one hand away from her breasts to mercilously rub on her clit making her grab my hair pulling me to kiss her neck "come on beautiful, cum for me" I smirked in her ear and that very second she screamed like banshee, I kept rubbing and kept bouncing her letting her ride it out even if I knew I and my bed were now soaked from her squirt I knew I was so close so I threw her back down and continued pounding fast and hard for a few more seconds before I felt that pleasure wave hit me and I instantly pulled out and came all over her back and butt before collapsing on my side of the bed in my back gasping for breath still getting over my orgasum. "Fuck I love you y/n"

"I love you too paul" she smiled gasping too as she just laid there on her stomach

"Now, I need to get pants on john will be here in like ten minutes" I laughed getting up slowly "you should also put clothes on" I told her as I got some boxes on and my jeans getting a clean undershirt

"Meh... John will understand that you fucked your girlfriend too good for her to move" she giggled

"Did I now?" I smirked going over and slipping two fingers inside her finger fucking her hard rubbing in her clit making her sqeaul kicking her feet

"Nooooo leave me alone, evil boy!" She whines kicking my hand away "I'll put clothes on" she sighed climbing out of bed "meanie" she whines bending over naked at her suitcase looking for clothes waving her butt at me and sticking her tongue out I put my shirt on going over and slapping her butt making her jump up into my arms

"Dirty tongue" I smirked

"It's not dirty" she whines

"Yes it is. I know where it's been beautiful" I smirked giving her a kiss "you get dressed, I'll tidy up. I'll make another tea when John gets here" I told her taking the cups and going out to the little flat setting the cups on the kitchen side by the burner, generally tidying the house up as y/n for dressed in the bedroom I saw her perched on the bed using my mirror to do her hair and make up just as I heard the door so I went and let John in "morning" I said giving him a faint smile fixing my hair as I did

"Morning" he laughs putting his guitar case on the side by the chair

"Tea?"

"Yeah go on then" he says so I went to the kitchen filling up the kettle and making the cups up he came and stood on the other side of the little counters that seperated the living room and kitchen looking at the cups and he smirked "hi y/n" he called to the bedroom

"Hi John, out inna minute" she called back

"I had a feeling she was here"

"How so?" I asked waiting for the kettle to boil

"She's always here" he laughs

"True."

"That and you need an air freshener"

"What why?" I asked rather confused

"Because paul it fucking stinks if sex in this flat"

"What does sex smell like?"

"Like jizz, sweat and squirt usually" he laughs

"That's not the flat, that's just paul" y/n smiled coming around the corner in her little black dress her hair done and makeup prestige "he didn't shower this morning"

"Hey!"

"It's true" she shurgs

"Nope it's the flat, or you two. Or both" john laughed as I made the tea up "you two have sex this morning then?"

"Yep" she giggled

"How could you tell? The house smell?" I asked

"that and I was here earlier, I waited outside having a cig and I could hear you two screaming"

"You know a weird amount about our sex lives" I told him sipping my tea

"I imagine so do you twos neighbors seriously... I can hear you from down the street" he laughs

"We just like being loud and passionate don't we paul" she giggled cuddling me

"How can I be quiet with my beautiful girl doing such dirty things to me" I smirked kissing her

"It's fine... Just rub in even more that I'm single" john sighed

"Sorry" she giggled

"It's fine, you two are adorable" he sighed.

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captain-josslett · 3 years

Text

Broken Melody - Part Thirty Two

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 8.6k+ (opps)

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, PTSD moments

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: Two weeks before the surgery, the Danvers sisters find out something about their Mom and the Superfriends go bowling!

Surprise! Two days later! What is going on? I had a lot of fun writing this. Sorry it got so long!

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

2 Weeks Before The Surgery

Emma slowly wakes up and stretches her whole body while voicelessly yawning. Generally her sleep hasn’t been as disturbed as before, but Emma is still finding she doesn’t feel as refreshed as she should when she wakes up.

Her hand reaches out for Lena, but finds the space next to her empty and cold. She blinks her eyes open and silently sighs when there is no sign of her girlfriend.

Lena had warned that she may have to work on Saturday due to the volume of business piling up. But she'd already said she needed to recharge.

Still.

Even though Sam and Lena have been hiring more staff to work the caseloads and Lena has been supervising the team leaders in the labs. The workload just seems never ending for L-Corp at the moment.

Causing Emma to barely see her girlfriend this week leaving Lena to usually stumble tiredly into the apartment after Emma has gone to bed. She’d sleepily brush her teeth, flop into bed, sometimes fully clothed and make Emma jump awake by the bounce of the bed. If Lena was still clothed in her tight business clothes, Emma would carefully change Lena into her pyjamas so she could sleep more comfortably. Emma would then kiss her on the forehead due to the raven haired beauty already being asleep.

Then Lena would wake up before her alarm, leaving Emma to sleep in as Lena quietly sneaks out of the apartment to head to L-Corp before sunrise. There wasn’t even much time for them to have lunch together but Emma would savour the moments she could have with Lena.

However, last night when Lena stumbled through the bedroom door, Emma had still been awake and once Lena crawled into bed and into Emma’s arms, she had groaned that she would take Saturday off to recharge.

‘Guess not.’ Emma thinks sadly while rolling out of bed to use the bathroom. She wobbles slightly as the room spins but Emma was getting used to the sensation.

Afterwards she grabs her phone and sees a message from her Mom

Eliza: Morning Sweetheart! Was wondering if you and Lena wanted to grab breakfast/brunch/lunch with me? Depending on what time you wake up of course!

Emma’s heart warms at how her Mom always wants to include Lena in their outings, which evidently, has started to dwindle. Emma glances at the time on her phone and sees it’s just gone 10:30am.

Emma: Yes please! Although it will be just me cause Lena has to work. 🥺

Where would you like to go? Do you want me to pick you up?

Due to everything happening Eliza had decided to rent an apartment that was close to the DEO and in a location that was in the middle of her daughter’s apartments. Emma was still impressed that her Mom managed to achieve all this in such a short time. But once her Mom’s mind was set on something, she went for it and no one would dare tell her to go back to Midvale.

Eliza: That’s a shame. How about that beach cafe you rave about so much?

Emma snorts at her Mom’s text.

Emma: Mom, I rave about a lot of beach cafés…

Eliza: Is that sarcasm I detect?

Emma: Noooo

Eliza: Anyway, you choose sweetheart, I am ready when you are. Just let me know when you are leaving.

Emma: Great! Give me 15 mins!

Emma quickly places her phone on the bed and races to the walk-in wardrobe, having had her shower the night before she waited for Lena to come home.

Suddenly the room spins and warps around her. Emma closes her eyes, waiting for the moment to pass. Thankfully it does and she continues her task. Choosing blue skinny jeans, a white t-shirt with gold stars on and a black hoodie. She stuffs her feet into black converses and grabs her phone, texting her Mom and places it into her messenger bag.

Emma: Just leaving now.

But as Emma heads for the door she notices a piece of paper on the island. Intrigued, she zips over, banging her knee into the corner of the unit. Unknowingly cracking the hard unit slightly.

‘Mother fucker!’ Emma’s mind screams as she rubs her knee before focusing on Lena’s handwriting.

‘Good Morning my love,

I’m sorry for leaving you like this but I have to go into work. I will hopefully be able to come to the bowling alley. If not, please apologise to Nia and give her a hug from me.

All my love, Lena x’

Emma lets out a voiceless sigh, she knew Lena was not in the apartment, but seeing the proof frustrates her. Disappointment in her girlfriend starts to creep in, she hopes Lena can make it to the bowling alley, not for her, but for Nia. Who has been bouncing around like a puppy with how much she was looking forward to spending time with the Superfriends to celebrate her birthday.

Due to Lena’s connections they’ve managed to hire a VIP private room with a few lanes, meaning once they are through the doors they don't need to have any face modifiers activated.

Because of Lena’s note, Emma grabs Nia’s birthday gifts and card, just in case Emma doesn’t return to the apartment before the party.

Her phone bleeps and Emma quickly takes it out as she exits the apartment.

Eliza: Okay Sweetheart! Drive safe!

Emma rolls her eyes at her Mom’s message and resists sending a sarcastic comment back. Instead she smiles down at her phone while she enters the elevator and activates her face modifier. She chooses a face with a beauty mark like Marilyn Monroe and she can’t help but pull a sexy pout while studying the new face in the mirror of the elevator.

Soon the doors open into the garage level and Emma approaches the L-Car, while mournfully staring at her bug. She gets into the car Lena designed for her and drives to her Mom’s apartment.

Eventually she pulls up outside Eliza’s building and finds her Mom is already waiting outside, with J’onn by her side. They haven’t noticed her arrival as they continue talking. Emma watches them with interest, noticing the smiles on their faces and how close they are standing while facing each other. Her eyes lower and widen at the realisation that they are holding hands.

Emma gets out her phone and records a short video of the pair interacting, zooming in on their joined hands before turning the camera on herself and raising an eyebrow. Immediately she sends the video to her sister’s group chat and another to Lena.

Emma: Morning love! Hope work is going okay? So… Picking up Mom for brunch and I’ve come across this… I don’t know how to feel… I want to squeal in happiness and simultaneously wretch! Oh Rao… We’re gonna have to give him the shovel talk aren’t we? 😬

Suddenly there is a knock on the passenger window, making Emma jump in her seat. Looking over she realises her Mom is standing by the door, waiting to be let in and Emma unlocks the door.

“Morning Sweetheart.” Eliza says while sliding into the car and gives her youngest daughter a tight hug.

When they part, Emma looks around for J’onn.

“Oh he’s already left, doesn't want the shovel talk just yet.” Eliza jokes as she puts on her seat belt, Emma tilts her head, wondering how he would know that. “He heard your thoughts as you were messaging your sisters and Lena.”

Emma snorts and shakes her head, of course J’onn would have heard her. She drives the car away from the pavement and back into the traffic. The pair stay in comfortable silence as they listen to the radio with Emma tapping along to the beat. Eliza has been learning some sign language but knows Emma won’t be able to communicate while driving the car.

About half an hour later they pull into a car park by a very long beach and Emma grabs her phone to communicate with her Mom. She sees multiple messages from her sisters but decides she will look at them later. Instead opening the notes app and writing a message out for her Mom.

‘Do you mind walking 20 minutes to the café? I can see if there are more spaces near it, but they are generally full.’

Emma shows her typed out words to her Mom.

“Of course sweetheart! I know I’m old, but I’m not that old!”

Emma shakes her head in amusement. Not liking the thoughts of how her Mom is growing older, that her blonde hair is getting lighter and more lines are appearing on her face.

As Eliza goes to pull the handle on the door Emma stops her, causing Eliza to look back at her daughter.

“Sweetheart?”

Emma circles her face, indicating she needs to engage her face modifier.

“Oh! Of course!” Eliza quickly taps her temple and her face morphs into another.

Emma silently sighs as they both get out of the car, hoping the face modifiers can be made obsolete soon. When Emma closes the door she stumbles slightly as the world spins but she manages to catch herself on the car. She looks over at her Mom, but luckily it seems like she doesn’t notice.

“So! Which way do we go?” Eliza asks as she links her arm with Emma. Her daughter points down to the path leading down to the beach and the pair walk in sync along the coast.

Both breathe in the salty sea air and enjoy watching the waves as they gently crash against the shore.

“I’ll never get over how beautiful the sea is.” Eliza comments and Emma nods in agreement. The colours were especially beautiful today, more turquoise than blue.

“Do you remember the amount of times you’d drag us down to the beach? How you wanted to go, even when it was raining?” Eliza smiles brightly at her daughter and Emma nods. Remembering the amount of pictures showing Alex and Jeremiah sat together while Emma enjoyed being in the sea. “And then once you found out about surfing, that was it! Your Dad and Alex put their foot down when you wanted to go all the time.”

Unable to respond Emma just smiles at the memories and the utter thrill she felt when she managed to catch her first wave. How her parents cheered and Alex tried to look unimpressed, but her eyes gave her away that she indeed was impressed and proud of her sister.

Eliza continues reminiscing as they walk towards the beach hut café Lena and Emma had gone to a few weeks ago.

“Oh this looks wonderful!” Eliza says as she steps through the door and follows Emma to a free table by the window. Eliza sits and takes in the beach decor of the cafe. The white walls and ceiling with the wooded furniture and beach elements in the decoration.

Emma grabs her phone and types out a message for her. ‘Yea Lena and I love it here.’

“I can see why.”

Their waitress comes over and greets them, handing them menus for them to look over.

“What drinks can I get ya?” The waitress pulls a pencil from behind her ear.

“Oh a pot of tea for me and-” Eliza looks over at Emma who points at an apple juice and a bottle of water.

“Great! I’ll get those for you and leave you to decide on y’all food.”

“Thank you.” Eliza watches the waitress go before turning back to her masked daughter. Who sits looking out of the window and even though her daughter’s face is hidden, Eliza can see something isn’t right “So, how are you sweetheart?”

Emma picks up her phone and starts typing.

‘I’m okay, nervous about the surgery but also excited. I miss talking to you.’

“And I miss hearing your voice.” Eliza reaches out and takes Emma’s hand. “But whatever happens I’ll be here to take care of you. Even if we need to go home and get some of that mountain air into you.”

Emma smiles at the thought of going back to Midvale. She goes to type her reponse when a message from Alex pops up.

Alex: Emma answer me!

Alarmed Emma opens their group chat and starts from the beginning of the thread where Emma sent the video.

Kara: Wait what?!

Alex: When did this happen?!

Emma snorts as she reads through the continuous back and forth between her two sisters as they try to piece together their Mom’s relationship with J’onn and how they felt about it. Ranging from many different emotions, Kara seemingly being more accepting, while Alex pleads Emma for more information and her location.

“Kara and Alex?” Eliza chuckles as she watches Emma’s expressions as she reads. Emma nods and grins back at her in confirmation.

Emma: Sorry I’m with Mom atm and didn’t see your hundreds of messages.

Kara: Where?

Emma: In a café ☕️

Alex: Which cafe?

Emma: Not telling 😜

Emma places her phone back on the table as the waitress comes over with the drinks. The pair order their food and Eliza can’t help but notice how Emma’s phone keeps lighting up.

“What’s that about?”

Emma hesitates but clicks on the video she recorded of her Mom and J’onn.

“Emma!” Eliza’s eyes widen as she watches. “Did you send that to your sisters?”

Emma nods guilty.

“Oh well.” Eliza takes a sip of her tea. “I did think you all already knew something, Sam and Lena seemed to have cotton on.”

Emma tilts her head and tries to remember any conversations she had with Lena about this topic. But she comes up empty.

“Oh what a surprise!” Eliza places her cup down and smiles over at the door.

Emma twists in her seat to see Alex rushing through the doorway with her phone in hand and Kara standing right behind her.

“Look! All I’m saying is that tracking Emma’s phone feels like an invasion of privacy.” Kara whispers as they move further into the cafe.

“She’s with Mom, it’s fine.” Alex snaps back and notices the table with two blondes. One beaming at her and the other looking confused. The redhead quickly marches over and sits next to, who she presumes, is Emma. Kara drops into the chair next to Eliza and straightens her glasses.

“What a nice surprise! I thought you said you were busy this morning?”

“Plans change.” Alex quips back.

“They sure do, are you joining us for brunch?”

“Do you want us to?” Kara looks directly at Emma, knowing they are taking her time away with Eliza. Emma nods and shrugs, signaling she was okay with it. “Okay, I’ll get some menus and drinks.”

“Make mine a scotch.” Alex calls after her and turns back to her Mom. “So, how long has it been going on?”

“Alex.” Eliza tiredly sighs. “We are just enjoying each other's company and supporting one another through this time.”

“But why him?” Alex asks in frustration.

“Why not him? We’ve been through so much together and I know he views you as his daughters.”

“Makes sense.” Kara places two mugs of coffee on the table and the menus. “The waitress will be over in a second and will bring our food out together.”

The table falls silent as Alex and Kara look over the menu while Emma’s eyes glance between her family, surprised by Alex’s simmering hostility.

The waitress comes back over and the sisters order. The waitress turns to go but pauses and turns back around. “I don't mean to be rude but aren't you Emma Danvers’ sisters?”

“Erm-” Kara’s eyes go wide when they realise their mistake of not activating the face modifiers.

“Don’t worry, we won’t say anything! It’s a pleasure! Also, when you see Emma, please tell her we miss her and look forward to serving her again.” The waitress beams at them before heading to the kitchen to process their order.

Touched by her comment Emma’s eyes begin to fill with tears and she looks out of the window at the sea to hide them from her family. But she misses the knowing expressions on their faces.

“So.” Alex clears her throat and focuses on her Mom. “Is it serious?”

“I would like it to be.” Eliza says honestly, making Emma wipe her face and turn back to look at her.

“But what about Dad?” The redhead says quietly, almost sounding vulnerable, as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Alex, in some ways, I will always love your father, despite everything that happened. But he’s gone and we had spoken that if anything ever happened to either one of us we would want the other to move on. For a very long time I didn’t feel at all able to, but I’ve finally got to the stage where I finally feel like I can.”

Emma sucks in her bottom lip and reaches out for her Mom’s hand. She nods and gives her Mom an encouraging smile, giving her blessing on the matter.

“Thank you sweetheart.” Eliza places her other hand over her daughter’s.

“When did it start?” Kara asks, blinking at her family as if trying to make sense of it.

“For me, I’ve always-” Eliza pauses, trying to find the right words for her daughters. She feels Emma gently squeezing her hand in reassurance. Eliza takes a deep breath and continues. “I’ve always liked him, in either form.” A small, sweet smile plays across her lips, Emma mirrors it as she watches her Mom closely.

“But when did it start?” Alex asks sternly, causing both Kara and Emma to give her a hard look.

“Girls, it's fine.” Eliza lets go of Emma’s hand and motions for Alex to give her her hand. But Alex keeps her arms crossed. Eliza sighs before continuing. “The truth is, our relationship developed while you all were still in the DEO. I mean, everyone had been so kind and welcoming, Nia especially made sure I always had a drink or she’d give me these little cakes from the bakery I like. Brainy, bless him, seemed at times unable to process what he was feeling. At one point I came into the lab and he was just so-” Eliza lifts her hands and motions them forward to emphasise the words. “Angry. I held him as he wept for the three of you. In some ways I fell into the Mom role for all of them. Sam likes to think she was the Mom too, but there were times I had to remind her to take care of herself.”

“And then there was J’onn. He saw the pain I was in and was the one who held me, told me that everything was going to be alright and we’d get through it together.” Eliza’s eyes mist over with tears. “For the first time, in a long time, I felt safe as he held me in his arms and the feelings we have for each other grew. We understood each other, our pain at our daughters' situations and the love between us grew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kara asks curiously.

“It wasn’t really the right time.” Eliza’s mind shoots back to when Kara and Alex had been imprisoned in their cells. The hatred burning in their glowing red eyes and the agony within Emma’s bloodshot ones.

“Or after that?” Alex asks, trying to process what she is feeling.

“Maybe, selfishly, I wanted to have this to myself for a while. Because I knew you’d react this way.”

Alex’s nostrils flare and she leans forward. “Well maybe if you had been honest in the first place-”

Emma’s hand on her arm cuts her off and she turns to angrily glare at her.

“No, Em! Mom should have told us.”

“You’re right.” Eliza’s words make her daughters’ heads snap to her. “I should have told you, but I didn’t. However, now you know.”

“Please Alex, Mom deserves to be happy.” Emma pleads.

“I agree.” Kara softly says and places her hand on Eliza’s shoulder.

Before Alex can say anything the waitress comes over with their food. They start eating with the tension simmering between them.

“I’m sorry.” Alex murmurs quietly, her head down as she cuts her food.

“I know.” Eliza reaches across the table and takes Alex’s hand “And I am too. I know how much you still love your Dad and that will never change.”

Emma places her hand on Alex’s arm, completely understanding what her sister was feeling but also wanting her Mom to be happy.

“Soo, talking of love.” Kara begins, trying to steer the subject away from Eliza but soon loses her nerves as three pairs of eyes focus on her. “Erm-”

“Someone caught your eye?” Emma signs and raises an eyebrow at her sister.

“Maybe.” Kara giggles shyly.

“Who?” Alex widens her eyes slightly. “That new guy working with James?”

“What new guy working with James?!” Emma signs to both of her sisters and looks at her Mom in disbelief.

“His name is Benvolio Rossi, Ben for short, he was named after his Grandpa who migrated over from Italy and Ben moved here a few months from New York. I saw him around the office but didn’t talk to him until recently. Well, Nia kind of pushed me over to him and we ended up chatting, flirting and getting coffee.” A shy, beaming smile grows on Kara’s face.

“Picture?!” Emma signs excitedly and claps her hands.

“Okay!” Kara pulls out her phone and goes onto Ben’s facebook profile. “Here he is.” She turns the phone around.

“Eh.” Alex shrugs half heartedly and shoves in a mouthful of food.

“Alex!” Kara yells at her sister.

“What I’m a lesbian! Man things don’t do it for me.”

Emma snorts and motions Kara for her phone, so she can look at the picture properly. She tilts her head as she studies his face, feeling a sense of familiarity as she looks at him.

His olive skin glowed in the sun and his face was chiseled and handsome with shiny black hair, groomed stubble and warm brown eyes.

“Em?” Kara asks, intrigued by the curious expression on her sister's face. Emma hands the phone to Eliza who also wants to look.

“Oh he’s handsome.” Eliza exclaims. “Wow!”

“Yea.” Kara says with a goofy smile. “But-” Kara turns back to Emma. “Why were you looking at the picture like that?”

“I feel like I’ve met him before. Was he press at the gigs?”

“Well he does everything but, yea, I imagine he would have been at some of your gigs.”

“Cool! What’s he like?”

The conversations soon flow onto Kara’s new crush as the Danvers eat their meal.

-- -- --

Time passes and the family realise they need to be leaving soon to get to Nia’s bowling birthday party.

“Shall we go together?” Emma signs as they exit the cafe.

“Sure.” Alex says and holds out her hand for the keys. “But I’m driving.”

Emma looks at her scandalised and backs away from her eldest sister. “Excuse me?! I’m a better driver than you!”

Alex stalks her as Kara and Eliza link arms, trailing behind them and chatting amongst themselves.

“Don’t be so ridiculous! I’ve been trained-”

“Whoop de doo!” Emma holds her hands up.

“I can’t believe you actually just signed that!”

Emma shrugs. “Are you forgetting that I had two minors on my driving test and you had fourteen?! I still wonder how you managed to convince that poor man of passing you.” Emma signs cheekily and quickly lifts her top slightly with a raised eyebrow and sticks her tongue out to the side.

“Oh now you’ve done it!” Alex yells and Emma immediately turns around and runs after seeing the spark in her sister’s eyes.

“Run Emma!” Kara yells as Alex chases after her, both laughing as Emma dodges her attempts at catching her.

“Those two.” Eliza chuckles and shakes her head as she watches her daughters jump down onto the beach, sand flying everywhere from their chase.

Eliza turns her head to look at Kara, who watches her blonde and redheaded sisters with a big grin and laughs along with them.

“So, Ben, does he know anything?”

“No.” Kara says quickly. “I mean, there was one incident.”

“Kara!”

“Okay, maybe four.” Kara admits and quickly continues talking. “But they were completely out of my control and I don’t think he knows anything.”

“Does Alex know about these ‘incidences’?”

“No…”

They both look over and watch as finally Alex manages to grab a hold of Emma while the blonde slips on a sand mound and Alex jumps on her back, wrapping her arms around Emma’s shoulders.

“Onward valet steed!” Alex yells and points at the path.

Emma blows out a breath of amusement and trots back up to Kara and her Mom, glad that she could take Alex’s weight.

“How far away is the car?” Alex asks her Mom with a grin.

“Well after you're messing about, probably ten minutes.”

“Ah kay. Peanut let me down.”

Emma answers by shaking her head as she starts walking and tightening her grip on Alex’s thighs.

“Em-ma!” Alex laughs as Emma picks up her speed and runs further down the path.

-- -- --

Soon the Danvers are pulling into the carpark outside of the massive bowling alley and Emma can’t help but feel excitement as she gets out of the L-Car.

She quickly double checks everyone has their face modifiers activated, which Emma can’t wait to deactivate when they enter their private room.

“Ready?” Eliza says, smiling at her daughters.

“Yup!” Kara bounces on her toes and grins happily.

When they approach the doors Emma winces at the overwhelming sound of the bowling balls slamming the pins.

‘Why’s it so loud?’ Emma thinks but tries to hide her discomfort from her family. The blonde zeros in on Kara who also looks slightly pained. Emma then focuses on Kara’s glasses and realises the damper isn’t turned on. Reaching over she presses the hidden button to turn them on and Kara visibly deflates in relief.

“Thanks Em.” Kara breathes out.

“You’re welcome.” Emma signs and wishes there was a similar device for humans as she can’t help but flinch when they enter the building.

“Hello ladies!” A man greets them at the desk.

“Hi! We’re here for Princess Leia’s birthday party.” Alex informs the clerk with the hidden codename, who nods and waves over one of his colleagues.

“My colleague here will escort you to your room. Have a great time!”

“Thanks!” Kara squeals happily and follows the clerk up towards some stairs that are roped off and being guarded by security personnel.

Emma raises her eyebrow slightly at Alex as they pass them. Knowing they were Lena’s doing to make sure no members of the public will intrude on the Superfriends and messing with Emma’s timeline of recovery.

The most recent post to Emma’s social media accounts were of staged physiotherapy sessions, showing Emma slowly walking between the rails. So to have any other photos of Emma moving around more freely would cause a media frenzy that no one wanted to face.

Lucy had sent strict instructions to all the Superfriends that photos can be taken but they will have to wait to be posted.

“Here we are!” The clerk leads them to the doors where another security guard is standing by. “Shoes should already be in there plus many different balls for you to choose from.”

Emma lets out two quick breaths of laughter, causing Eliza to tap her shoulder in disapproval. Which makes both Alex and Kara chuckle while they walk through the doors.

Once inside the room Emma turns around and signs with a smirk on her face. “Balls!” Making her sisters laugh louder.

“You’re here!” Nia rushes over to them and flings her arms around Kara. “Isn’t this amazing?!”

Emma looks past Nia and has to agree, the room was an upgraded version to the main area downstairs. It almost looked brand new and was filled with tables of food and drink.

“Kara, save some for later.” Eliza instructs in a motherly tone as Kara makes her way over to the feast.

“O-kay.” Kara pouts and rushes over to grab their shoes instead.

“Oh! And Emma?” Nia beams at the blonde when their eyes connect. “Please disengage your face mask immediately!”

Emma nods and taps her temple. The Superfriends cheer and immediately Emma enjoys the freeing feeling on her face when the modifier disappears.

“That’s sooo much better!” Nia opens her arms wide and Emma beams at the brunette while she gives her a hug. When they pull apart Emma notices that her family have disengaged theirs too.

But then Emma’s eyes search around the room for Lena.

‘Where is she?’ Emma worries when she can’t find her girlfriend.

“Sam said Lena was right behind her, so she should be here any minute.” J’onn answers and takes an apprehensive step towards the blonde.

‘Hi J’onn.’ Emma thinks coolly, her smile fades as she crosses her arms and sizes him up.

J’onn hesitates for a moment until Emma’s face breaks out into a grin and she holds her arms out to him.

‘Come here!’ Emma’s mind happily yells out.

J’onn laughs in relief and wraps her in a bear hug.

‘But seriously though, you hurt my Mom and I will hunt you down! Even if you go back to Mars or something!’ Emma threatens while still in his arms.

“I promise I won’t hurt her.” J’onn whispers gently in her ear.

‘Pinky.’ Emma demands, stepping back and holding out her pinky finger.

“I pinky promise.” J’onn says seriously and wraps his big pinky finger around Emma’s.

“What you pinky promising about?” Kara asks as she bounds over to them to give J’onn a hug.

“Well, that I won’t hurt your mother.”

“Yea cause if you do I will fling you into the sun!” Kara says seriously and Alex comes to stand by her side.

“Or I kill you with said pinky.” Alex threatens while drinking a beer.

“Alex!” Emma signs and rolls her eyes at the bottle.

“What?! It’s my day off and it's past lunch time!”

Emma shakes her head and goes to collect her bowling shoes. She frowns when the only pairs left are her and Lena’s.

Reaching into her bag Emma pulls her phone out and still sees no messages from her girlfriend.

“So, shall we wait a little longer or get started? We have the room for five more hours, meaning plenty of games of bowling.” Brainy asks everyone as he rubs his hands together. Allowing his feelings of glee to come through.

“Yea, why don’t we start and we can always bowl for Lena until she arrives.” Nia smiles at everyone and races over to the scoring computer to input everyone's names. Kara follows her as they debate whether to use their real names or make nicknames up for everyone.

“If she comes.” Sam mutters under her breath as she angrily pulls her phone out. Both Kara and Emma turn their heads to stare at her in confusion, not quite believing what they heard. Surely Lena wouldn’t miss this?

“Emma, have you chosen a ball yet?” Lucy asks, making Emma jump by her sudden appearance.

The blonde shakes her head and goes over to the rack where the bowling balls are kept.

Emma looks for a ten pound bowling ball, the kind she normally uses and finds a cool looking purple and black one. Emma reaches down and prepares herself to pick it up, not wanting to twinge a muscle for not lifting the heavy ball properly.

Only when Emma puts her fingers through the holes and pulls, she overcompensates, hitting herself in the chest and crashes backwards onto the floor with the ball in her lap.

“Em?!” Alex’s voice shouts as she rushes over to Emma, still sat dazed on the floor, with Sam right behind her. “Are you okay?”

Emma nods, feeling a bit shocked and embarrassed. A blush starts colouring her cheeks as the Superfriends turn to look at her in concern.

“I’m fine. Just being clumsy.” Emma signs, trying to laugh it off and goes to get up.

“Here.” Alex grabs the bowling ball and holds it while Sam helps Emma up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies the blonde’s face.

Emma gulps but nods that she was indeed okay. “Just embarrassed for causing a scene.”

“Alright.” Sam nods as well before smiling and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Ready to be beaten Danvers?”

Emma snorts and kicks her leg up behind them to hit Sam’s butt.

“Hey!” Sam yells and does it back to Emma. The blonde lets out a heavy breath of voiceless laughter.

Alex grins and shakes her head while she places Emma’s ball on the rack by the ball return and laughs at her girlfriend. “I think Em was saying no.”

“Are we bowling as teams or individuals?” James asks as he goes to pick up his bowling ball and looks up at the screen with the names on.

On team one: Nia is Dreamgirl, Brainy is Brainakins, Kara is Glasses, Emma is Stargirl, Sam is Hotmama and Lena is Irish babe.

On team two: James is He-man, Winn is Futureboy, Eliza is Aurora, J’onn is Martitan, Alex is Director of Sass and Lucy is Army Green.

“Why not both?” Eliza offers and smiles when she sees the name she has been given. “See which lane is better but also amongst ourselves in general?”

“I like that idea.” J’onn agrees.

“Of course you would.” Alex grunts before taking a swig of her beer. Only to splutter when Emma digs her elbow into her side.

“Nia? You’re first up on our team!” Kara points at the screen and everyone cheers. Emma claps her hands loudly to make enough noise. “Go Dreamgirl!”

“And remember, no powers!” Lucy orders from the stool by the computer and picks up James’ camera to take some photos.

“Yes ma’am.” Nia nods as she grabs her ball.

“You ready Dreamgirl?” James playfully taunts Nia.

“Bring it He-Man!” Nia grins back at him while lining herself up.

They both go at the same time and the game begins. Laughter, whoops and cheers fill the room as pins crash to the floor.

Kara completely misses on her first try due to the red sun dampers.

“I can put the rails up if you want?” Lucy jokes cheekily.

“No thanks, just need to get used to it.” Kara huffs out and shakes her hands. Her second attempt was much better and Emma claps loudly for her.

Next it was Emma’s turn and she makes sure not to overcompensate this time when she picks the ball up.

“Go Emma!” Lucy cheers and the blonde gets herself into position and aims.

Emma takes a few deep breaths and steps forward, releasing the ball at the lowest point. It shoots from her hand like a cannonball and knocks down all the pins.

Emma jumps up and down in excitement and the Superfriends cheer loudly behind her.

“Well done sweetheart!” Eliza pulls her into a hug. “Just how Dad taught you.”

Emma nods and goes back to sit down. Her eyes flick to the door, wishing Lena had seen her first strike. Naturally her hand reaches for her phone. She silently sighs when there are no messages or responses from her girlfriend.

Emma: Hi Lee, guess what?! I just did a strike! Your name is on the board, so you can start playing when you get here ❤️

Emma also takes a photo of Sam about to play her shot to send to Lena. Hoping this will cause some kind of response.

But her phone doesn’t bleep, causing Emma to run a hand through her hair.

“Hey, I’m sure she’s okay.” Alex notices Emma’s concern and tries to reassure her. But also looks over at Kara, silently communicating with her. Kara nods and gets up to bowl.

“Alex?” J’onn pulls the redhead’s attention away from Emma. “It’s your turn.”

“Yea! Go Director of Ass!” Sam winks at her girlfriend, causing Alex's cheeks to blush.

It soon gets to Lena’s name and everyone allows Nia to take Lena’s go and do her own.

They play seven more frames and when it gets to Lena’s name again everyone pauses.

“Kara? Do you wanna have another go instead?” Nia asks, trying not to show her disappointment.

“Er, sure! But please excuse me, I’m going to use the bathroom.” Kara squeezes out of the booth and rushes to the door leading to the restrooms.

Emma doesn't think anything of it until the door opens again and Emma turns her head to see a wind swept Lena walking in front of Kara. Emma's eyes move up and down her girlfriend’s body and takes in Lena’s fitted maroon coloured dress with black high heels.

Their eyes connect and they both feel a rush of giddiness.

“Finally!” Sam shouts as she places her hands on her hips, cutting off their moment as Lena’s eyes snap to her best friend. Causing everyone else to look over to where Sam was looking.

“Lena!” Nia squeals and rushes over to the raven haired beauty.

“Sorry Nia.” Lena apologises while they hug.

“Don’t worry about it. Contracts blurgh!” Nia gags and giggles.

“Exactly!” Lena laughs and follows Nia into the booth. She immediately sits next to Emma and kisses her lips. “Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up love.”

Emma shrugs and flattens parts of Lena’s hair that's still a bit messy from her flight over, making her girlfriend laugh.

“Thanks!” Lena chuckles and looks up at the names on the scoreboard. “I’m guessing your Stargirl?” Emma nods proudly. “Wow love. You’ve got a strike on almost every go?”

“I know?! I don’t know how.” Emma signs happily. “I even managed with a heavier ball!” Although for Emma it didn’t feel much heavier, even though it was meant to be six pounds heavier.

“Well your arms are getting more toned.” Lena nudges her shoulder into Emma’s. She had noticed Emma’s body changing and put it down to the running and weight training Emma is doing to fill her time.

A familiar twinge of regret hits Lena’s stomach at how busy she has been lately. ‘It won’t be forever.’ Lena thinks, trying to reassure herself.

Lena breaks her out of her thoughts by Emma flexing her arm and raising an eyebrow at Lena, causing a rich laugh to burst out from the raven haired beauty’s lips.

This heavenly sound makes Emma’s heart flutter and she beams sweetly at the woman she loves.

“Lena? It’s your go. Unless you want me to take it for you?” Kara asks and points at the scoreboard.

“Oh sorry!” Lena apologises and looks up at the board. “Who chose Irish Babe?” She laughs as Kara and Nia point at each other. “Right, I better get my ball and shoes.” Lena places her hand on Emma’s thigh and goes to stand up, but Emma takes her hand, stopping her from moving.

“I got them for you.” Emma pulls them up from under the bench and hands the shoes to Lena. “Also I got you a size eight ball but there is also a nine if you’d rather use that one.”

“Thanks love.” Lena places a gentle kiss on Emma’s lips. After she immediately kicks her heels off and goes to put her shoes on. Suddenly a pair of neon lime green socks appear in front of her face. “You think these socks go with this outfit?” Lena questions Emma who pouts out her lips and nods.

“I mean the shoes go exquisitely as well!” Emma signs, making Lena chuckle and puts them on anyway. Everyone wolf whistles when she gets up to bowl making Lena break out in a huge smile.

“Looking mighty fine there Luthor!” Sam hollers in a southern accent, causing everyone to burst out laughing and Lena to stare back at Sam in a mock glare.

Lena bowls and manages to get a spare. Emma claps enthusiastically when the last pin tumbles to the ground.

Lena smiles as she heads back into the booth, giving everyone high fives. Sitting down she snuggles into Emma, who wraps an arm around her waist and they watch the Superfriends bowl. Lena cheers along with everyone and takes a few deep breaths. Ridding herself of her work anxiety that had no place in the bowling alley.

They play a few more games before having a break to eat.

“Finally!” Kara yells dramatically and zooms over to the table. Emma is sure that if the sun red dampers weren’t on, Kara would have flown over.

“Kara!” Both Alex and Eliza yell in disapproval at Kara running to get the food.

“Sorry! I’m just hungry!” Kara whines while piling the food on her plate.

“Hey! Leave some for us Kara!” Winn calls across to her, making Kara squint her eyes at him.

The Superfriends get their food and sit together at a table set out for them and eat. Laughing and chatting about anything and everything. James takes a few photos before Lucy takes the camera off him to give him a chance to eat.

“Hey Lena! Em!” Lucy positions herself across from the couple and aims the camera.

The girlfriends smile widely at her and wrap an arm around each other's waist.

“Beautiful!” Lucy comments and keeps taking pictures as Lena kisses Emma’s cheek and the blonde beams at the camera. Emma turns her head and softly kisses Lena’s lips.

“Hey hey! Keep it under the R rating please!” Lucy says seriously and Emma flips her off.

A few of the Superfriends laugh and Emma smirks at Lena before pressing their foreheads together. They both close their eyes and breath deeply in.

Soon mostly everyone has finished eating and Brainy stands.

“Shall we play some more games?” Brainy asks, looking around at his friends.

“Yes please!” Nia squeals and runs back to the booth. Everyone follows other than Winn and James.

Emma and Lena sit close together and Emma goes to take a sip from her cup.

Suddenly the lights go off, causing Emma to violently jump, spilling her drink down her top.

“Happy-” Winn starts singing and everyone else joins in as he brings the cake over with lit candles. “Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Nia! Happy birthday to you!”

Emma tries to smile as everyone sings, instead she lets out a long, heavy breath. She jumps again as Lena places a comforting hand on her thigh.

“Sorry love.” Lena whispers into her ear as the lights come back on.

“Emma! What happened to you?!” James laughs as he notices Emma’s wet, brown t-shirt.

Emma shrugs and looks down embarrassed. Missing the glares some of the Superfriends send to James. Lena grabs some napkins and tries to dry the worst of it.

“Who wants some yummy cake!” Lucy claps to draw the attention away from the blonde and goes to get the knife.

“Oo me!” Kara raises a hand and bounces in her seat like a nine year old kid.

“I’m sure the question was rhetorical Kar.” Alex snorts in amusement.

“Yea, but I want cake.” Kara shrugs with a grin.

Emma tries to smile as well but she finds herself rocking slightly as she tries to calm her racing heart.

“You’re okay.” Lena's calming voice whispers into her ear. “You’re safe. You’re with me and people who love you. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Emma nods, resting her head on Lena’s shoulder and nuzzles into her neck. Trying to seek comfort and feel safe.

If the Superfriends notice they don’t say anything about it or draw attention to Emma, leaving Lena to help Emma though her trigger as they share the cake around.

When Emma sits back up, looking less pale, Nia hands their plates with pieces of cake over.

“Thank you.” Emma signs gratefully and digs in, trying not to focus on her embarrassment at what happened.

Once the food is eaten and cleared away the bowling begins again. Although the group of friends are not as quick as before but still as competitive.

“Seriously Emma!” Lucy yells when Emma does another perfect strike. “You need to show me your technique or something.”

Emma holds her hands up in surprise and just motions her bowling.

“Nah I’m not fooling around anymore with this ‘I can’t bowl’ act!”

Emma can’t help but voicelessly laugh at Lucy’s competitive side making itself known.

“Ooo, she’s laughing at you Luc.” Alex grins at her sister.

Emma holds her hands up again in surrender at Lucy’s enraged face.

“Hey relax.” Kara tries to soothe the brunette down and rubs her back affectionately. “It’s all about the fun of playing.”

A few nod but suddenly everyone bursts out laughing and continues for a while. The Superfriends never play just for the fun of it. Mostly everyone in the group are extremely competitive.

“Good one Kara!” Winn wipes the tears from his cheeks.

-- -- --

Finally they complete their last game and Emma is the clear winner. Although she is still very confused at how she managed it but takes the praise.

The food and cake is distributed into takeaway boxes and the Superfriends say their goodbyes and birthday love to Nia. With Emma and Lena being the first to leave.

“Do you need a ride?” Emma signs to Alex.

“No, Sam is- I’m, er, going with Sam.” Alex stutters and goes a bit red as she smiles shyly. Causing Emma to smirk and shake her head.

“Yea, my director of ass.” Sam whispers into her girlfriend's ear.

This makes Emma snort and sign at her sister. “Use protection.” Emma winks.

“Protection? Protection from what?” Kara asks after watching Emma’s hands.

Emma snorts loudly again but Lena drags her away before she can hear anyone's responses.

“Modifier.” Lena yawns before they go through the door and waves farewell to everyone. Emma taps her temple, shivering slightly as the mask crawls across her face.

The couple walk down the stairs hand in hand and out into the evening air. Emma leads her girlfriend to the L-Car and opens the passenger door for her.

“Thanks love.” Somehow, despite her exhaustion, Lena still slides gracefully into the car, even with her drooping eyelids.

Emma gets into the driver's seat and leans over to plug her girlfriend in. A hum of acknowledgement leaves Lena’s lips and her eyes finally close.

Emma can’t help but smile at how cute she looks and turns the electric engine on to head for home.

-- -- --

In no time at all they are pulling into their space under the apartment building. Lena looks like she’s already in a deep sleep and Emma wonders if she can carry her up to their apartment.

Remembering how easy it was to piggyback Alex, Emma decides to go for it. She quietly unplugs Lena’s seatbelt and gets out of the driver's side. Emma quickly goes to Lena’s side and carefully opens the passenger door, hoping Lena wouldn’t fall out, but thankfully she hasn’t moved.

Leaning down Emma attentively runs her right arm under Lena’s legs and her left under her back. She manages to lift Lena and the bag of food, carrying her girlfriend bridal style out of the car. Carefully she heads for the elevator, thankfully that the L-Car locks automatically when the keyholder walks far enough away from the car.

Somehow she manages to press the button to call the elevator and again for the penthouse apartment.

‘Nice one Emma!’ She praises herself and kisses Lena’s head when the doors close.

However, once the elevator doors slide open, Emma voicelessly groans. She exits the elevator, debating what to do to unlock the door and open it.

“You know you could just put me down?” Lena says sleepily as she blinks her eyes open.

‘Of course you're awake!’ Emma rolls her eyes and gazes down at her girlfriend.

“Well?” Lena asks with a yawn, waiting to be put down.

“Get my key.” Emma mouths, causing Lena to squint up at her.

“Get your key?” Lena says back and Emma nods. “Where is it?”

“Bag.”

Lena reacts down to Emma’s messenger bag by her side.

“You know this would be a lot quicker if you just put me down.”

Emma shrugs and grins happily, liking the sensation of holding Lena close.

“Got it!” Lena pulls it out and stretches for the lock. Emma moves a bit forward to make it easier for her. “Thanks love.” Lena yawns out again and unlocks the door, partly opening it.

Emma kicks it open fully and manages to step through before it swings back.

“Impressive.” Lena chuckles while nuzzling into Emma’s chest and closing her eyes.

Emma lets out a voiceless laugh and carries Lena into the bathroom.

“No, just dump me on the bed!” Lena whines but doesn’t complain when Emma places her feet on the tiled floor and pulls her dress up and underwear down. “Ooo kinky.” Lena says seductively while cracking an eye open as Emma guides her onto the toilet.

Emma shakes her head with a smile at Lena’s comment and goes to grab Lena’s pajamas and a fresh pair of underwear.

She hears the flush and Lena whining out her name.

“Em-ma!”

‘Le-na!’ Emma yells back in her head but she quickly makes her way back to her girlfriend, who was sleepily brushing her teeth.

Emma closes the lid on the toilet and places Lena’s clothes on top, Lena watches her every move and as Emma begins to sign. “We are staying in bed tomorrow. No excuses!”

Lena clears her mouth and places her toothbrush back on the counter. “Bed all day? Lucky me.” Lena says sultry and lifts an eyebrow.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Not like that you bad girl.”

“Hmm but you’d want me to be your bad girl huh?” Lena slowly tilts her head and leans in, kissing Emma’s lips slowly and passionately. Emma could taste the fresh mint of the toothpaste on Lena’s tongue.

But Lena soon breaks the kiss, closes her bloodshot eyes and rests her weary head on Emma’s shoulder.

Emma carefully bends down and grabs the clothes so she can place Lena back on the toilet lid. She lovingly changes Lena’s clothes and kisses any exposed skin that she comes across, making Lena hum and smile.

Once Lena is changed Emma reaches down and picks her up again. Attentively carrying her over to their bed. Next she pulls the covers back and carefully places Lena on the bed and tucks her in.

Lena hums sleepily in approval but doesn’t open her eyes or makes any other movement or noise. Seemingly falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Emma smiles down at her sadly and kisses her forehead.

“Hope, dim the lights to the lowest setting.” Emma signs to the AI before reentering the bathroom to get herself ready for bed.

After she’s brushed her teeth and hair, dressed in her tank top and shorts, Emma quietly tiptoes back into the bedroom. The corner of her lip pulls up when she can hear Lena softly snoring.

When she reaches her side of the bed Emma carefully pulls the covers back and slowly gets into bed. Trying desperately not to jostle Lena.

“Hope, lights out.” Emma signs once she’s settled.

The lights slowly fade and the window dim to blackout.

Emma swallows as she turns towards Lena, listening to her steady breaths as she sleeps. Almost becoming Emma’s lullaby when her own eyes slowly grow heavy and close.

(Part Thirty Three)

#supergirl #supergirl tv #supergirl imagine #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fanfic #supergirl baby danvers #lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x baby danvers #alex danvers #alex danvers x sam arias #alex danvers imagine #alex danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers imagine #kara danvers #b!d

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ultimatetornshipper · 3 years

Text

To bee or not to bee - a Jasonette fic

@moonlitceleste I almost let this die, I honestly really wanted it dead but alas it was clearly meant to bee

(WARNING: contains puns, angst, crack and fluff. You have been warned)

If you don’t want to read my sarcastic/funny/fangirl commentary, skip the brackets

I have another bee movie au, i didn't plan it ("I don't claim to be proud. But my head won't be hung in shame. I didn't plan it. But the light turned red, and I ran it. And I'm still standing. It's not what I wanted, but now that it's right here. I understand it. A story written by my own hand" as quoted from Waitress), it just happened and i just couldn't resist. I'm not sorry

So what if instead of dying Joker turned Jason into a bee. Because Harley convinced him and told him that people were talking shit about him because he's named the Joker and they don't think he's funny. It surprisingly works. (Obviously Harley was the one who made the plan and did the magic I mean really what do u expect of Joker?)

Ok so now Jason’s a bee right? And he’s like 15 because .~:°*plot*°:~.

They look for him and Jason’s like flying around like, “Guys! Guys I’m right here!” Poor kid. (I mean I would make it funny but like angst)

Obviously they don’t understand him because he’s a fucking bee and Joker cackles madly and Harley laughs too but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and it's kinda that laugh u do when ur supes overwhelmed and sound maniacal but like soft (I’m a simp for Harley being portrayed as the complex and beautiful character she id leave me be)

Jason is very sad. And also quite pissed

Not knowing what else to do he follows Batman home, he listens to them trying to find him, watches Dick freak out and Alfred wipe a tear the rest of the family doesn’t see.

Jason tries to approach Alfred, hoping he somehow recognizes what happened

He doesn’t, Alfred closes him in a glass and paper and takes him outside.

He sneaks back into the manor and sleeps in one of the flowers (it's a red tulip because aesthetic) next to his bed. He cries himself to sleep. (Can bees cry? Is this possible? Is this like a thing??? I don't need sleep i need answers)

The thing is even tho he's now a bee, he still has the durability of a human, so even stepping on him won’t crush him and he still has a human lifespan

Because Harley isn’t a monster and what Puddin didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. (Simping for Harley Quinn strike 2)

After a while at the manor and following them he decides he can’t stand it anymore. Alfred has thrown him out three times and Dick freaks out each time he sees him as he’s a tad allergic (read: he would die if stung)

Which is how Jason found out that getting hit with a newspaper wouldn’t kill him.

He leaves.

He’s a bee and it’s not like he knows about a way to reverse it.

But there was someone who might.

He goes to Arkham.

Luckily, Harley was still there. (YAY we get to see mah gurl)

He flies into her cell and she just watches him, then she seems to click. She gives him a small smile, “Hi birdie,” (she puns, honestly would make for a better clown of Gotham and I saw an idea for that once where she steals Joker’s title once and I’ve been yearning for it ever since)

She holds out a finger and he lands on it, she laughs but tears come to her eyes,” Hey at least you’re not dead. That was his original plan you know? To kill you with a crowbar. I convinced him this would be a cruller fate. I guess maybe it is, but at least this way... Ugh how the hell did I get here,” (Harley angst, honestly it’s all just self service at this point)

He simply stared at her as she cried, and he felt his heart clench. From here she looked so sad... not crazy, just broken.

She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously, “Look kid, there’s a way to get you back to normal, you just need to find someone, they’re called the Guardian of the Miraculous. They can help, I don’t know who or where they are, just follow your instincts. And come say hi when you get back, yeah? I could do with the... healthier company. And remember, I bee-lieve in you,” (Gasp what a shock, you mean to tell me Miraculous magic is gonna be involved in this Maribat au. Well I never what a shock. Also puns. Oh and she’s so nice to him. We love Harley in this house)

He sat there and studied her for a while more, there was more to her than it seemed. Than what he’d assumed.

But for now, he had his own problems to deal with.

She gave him a small wave as he left. (Adorable)

He left and started considering his options, as a bee, it would probably be safest to stay inside, away from birds and things that would view him as a snack.

Staying in Arkham seemed like his best option, as bad an option as it was.

Most of the prisoners wouldn’t have a second thought about trying to crush him.

A strong scent of flowers and plants suddenly came to his attention.

Of course! Poison Ivy. (Round 2 of me simping for beautiful, complex, badass women. Too bad Catwoman ain’t here.)

He followed the smell to her cell and saw her staring out of her small window. He was still taking a chance, but she loved plants and flowers and bees were important to those, weren’t they?

He flew to the window bars and sat on one. The moment she spotted him she smiled widely, in a soft way he hadn’t seen on her before. (Ahhhhh my darling plant redhead. I love writing the Sirens as soft badasses. Also has anyone noticed how rare brunettes are in superhero worlds? Like both in Marvel and DC but like irl brown is like a pretty damn common)

She held out her finger, “Hey there, little guy. A little far from home, aren’t we?”

She had no idea.

He landed on her fingertip and watched in awe as a flower and a few leaves formed on her hand. She let the flower grow itself around one of her window bars and held her finger next to one of the petals.

“There you go, it’s all I can manage with my power dampers. I haven’t had company in a while,” she said softly as he crawled into the flower. He made himself comfortable.

She laughed to herself and he saw her shaking her head, “Talking to a bee, well, I guess stranger things have happened,” (yeah ur crush is dating a green haired murderous psychopath and you get beat up by a billionaire in a batsuit on like a biweekly basis)

The flower was soft and warm and felt safer than he expected it to. He found that he could move between the petals but decided to curl up in the middle. (It's a pink rose this time because fuck yeah flowers)

He slept better than he had in days.

The next morning he took his leave, stopping only at the manor to say a mental goodbye.

Then he headed off.

Jason flew a lot the first few months, our boy was smart at least, travelling with a cruise ship on its way to Europe.

It was Spring in the Northern Hemisphere so he had until Autumn until it was in his best interest to head south to avoid the snow. He decided to head towards Africa when summer started coming to an end. (I have no reasoning for this, just that I want to)

His first spot would be the United Kingdom. Then he'd go through the rest of Europe following his instincts.

At least it was Spring.

Jason diligently searched through England, Scotland and Ireland but found nothing.

By the time he was done he realized it was time to start heading South. He’d decided to take another cruise to South-Africa, where it would be summer, he searched through the country until April. He would admit that he didn’t feel drawn to anything in any of their 9 provinces so his search wasn’t as diligent as in England. He didn’t feel anymore drawn to the neighbouring countries like Namibia or Botswana either.

(Once again no reasoning for why I picked these countries, I mean the French Hugonotes went there when they were fleeing from the French Catholics who wanted them dead so I guess I could make up some bullshit about Mari having an ancestor in common with someone there or maybe it was just the ship he could easiest get access I don’t know, you make something up)

Which was why he decided to go back to Europe as soon as April hit.

He hitched another ride on a cruise headed for France.

It’s been a year since he got turned into a damn bee.

He was sixteen now and while he’d seen some amazing things all through South-Africa (a place that proves that humans really do have a weirdly obvious way of naming things I mean the Amazon river and Chad Lake are just more examples really) as well as the United Kingdom, all he really wanted was to go back home, to be human again.

When he gets there he diligently makes his way through France, eventually arriving in Paris.

He lands on the tip top of the Eiffel Tower. As in the point of the antenna because why not.

During his year he realized that birds and other animals tended to avoid him, sensing his strangeness so that was at least one positive.

He stared out over the city. Well, the one good thing about this was definitely the views he’s been allowed to see.

That was until a massive explosion hit.

“What the fuck?” he said out loud, searching for the source. No one understood him, human or bee, but talking to himself reminded him of his humanity.

He found the source of the explosion but just as he started flying to its general direction, a blinding white light shone followed by a horde of ladybugs that were fixing everything that was wrong. (Imagine how scary this would lowkey be irl tho? Just a shit ton of Ladybugs descending on Paris my dude)

He decided that he needed a night’s sleep before he could even begin an attempt at deciphering what had just happened. He flew lower, finding a nice little balcony right above a bakery. And it had flowers. (I’ll give u five seconds to guess who this balcony belongs to)

He flew down, exploring.

He turned around when he heard a loud thump from behind him. What appeared to be a super heroine in red spandex with black spots had landed on the balcony.

She detransformed and started to talking to a floating bug- fairy thing. Strange. Though it wasn’t like he could judge, as an ex superhero sidekick who was thought to be dead but was actually a bee.

She disappeared down her trapdoor and he made himself comfortable in one of her flowers.

He slept soundly until somewhere during a night another thump woke him. He looked out of his sleeping spot to see a cat superhero stand on her balcony. He leaned down and knocked on her small trapdoor.

Ah, a teammate of hers, they were probably meeting about something, he thought as he heard her open up.

It didn’t take him long to realize that even though they were teammates, the cat, Chat Noir he later learned, was not aware of this fact.

Oh this was rich.

He couldn’t bee-lieve his eyes. (ok so Jason used self-referential puns but can you really blame him? It’s really just me and my pun problem so don’t blame the kid)

He was going on and on about his feelings for Ladybug, the girl’s hero form, that were clashing with his feelings for another girl he fenced with, while she listened, clearly fed up with it.

He also claimed that he thought that maybe they were one and the same. Which, to Jason, was hilarious as he was literally saying this to the actual Ladybug’s face.

Marinette- he learned from the Cat’s ongoing blabbering, he was a real blab-bee mouth, - was clearly tired, nodding half asleep, probably having heard it all before.

When he finally left Jason went to sleep again, incredibly amused and even more thankful that he was fluent in French. ( u think this is plot convenience? Just u wait mah dude iz about to get worse)

The next morning he decided to follow her to school. Which was how he learned of her huge crush on a boy named Adrien Agreste.

After learning the boy could fence thanks to Marinette’s obsession interest in him, he got suspicious.

Could it really bee? (not a typo)

After seeing the boy transform a month or two later for patrol he laughed like he hadn’t for over a year. It very much was. He'd spent the time staying on Marinette's balcony and decided to stay another week before moving on and continuing his search, after all, he couldn't stop now that he finally felt like he was getting close.

The next day she got home crying, claiming that Adrien had started dating someone else.

Kagami, she called the girl. Probably the fencer if he had to place a bet.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki told the girl.

“That boy's an idiot,” he said, speaking his mind, another thing he’d gotten use to being allowed to do without consequence.

Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin, she looked around and he realized that she could hear him. He hadn’t really spoken too much before, at least not when she was around. He was usually content with watching her do whatever she was doing that day.

“Tikki, did you hear that?” she asked, Tikki nodded, her eyes landing on him.

“Oh,” the kwami said softly, flying over to him, “Oh, you poor thing, who did this to you?” (Tikki is the first ever mom friend and u can fight me on this)

He stared up at her, flying so that they were eye level.

Marinette gaped at them, heartbreak seemingly forgotten, “Tik- Tikki, are- who are you talking- are you talking to a – Tikki is that a bee?!” she finally spluttered out.

“No,” Tikki said, studying him, he felt his heart twist in hope and his stomach roll in surprise. Did she know?

“I mean yes, but no. He’s a boy whose been turned into a bee,” Tikki explained, turning back to Marinette.

“Oh,” Marinette said softly, turning to him. She held her hand out and after some hesitation he landed on her finger. She looked at him then back to Tikki.

How did they know? Would he really be that lucky? Was this real?

“Uhm, how?” she said, staring at him in disbelief. He tried shrugging but realized he couldn’t anymore- beecause of his- well if you haven’t caught on to the fact that he’s a bee by now you should really start from the beginning of this story.

“I don’t know, but Joker and Harley Quinn were involved,” he said.

Marinette stared at him in disbelief, blinking a few times. She sat in shock a few moments longer. (Our darling is an awkward lil bean, and while in media awkward is portrayed as cute, irl it isn’t, it’s just well… awkward. And we’re writing a serious and realistic fic about this sidekick of guy who wears a batsuit/billionaire's ward getting turned into a bee and falling in love with a magical girl fighting a butterfly man- none of this unrealistic nonsense)

Tikki flew over and sat on Marinette’s shoulder while her holder processed the information, the kwami stared at him sweetly, “What’s your name?”

He swallowed, he hadn’t said his name in ages, it stirred up something (emotion, it’s called emotion, Jason, you know? The thing Batman can’t process??) in him, “Jason Todd,”

Marinette seemed to finally snap out of her daze, “That sounds American. Are you American? Wait if Joker and Harley are involved then you’re probably from Gotham. Are you? Wait I’ve seen the name Jason Todd somewhere. Weren’t you some rich guy’s ward? It was all over the news last year, Alya wouldn’t stop talking about it for a month, she had a million theories. He was – you were announced dead two months after Robin was taken captive by Joker, everyone thought he was – you were killed. Joker made outrageous claims as they arrested him... saying that they’d never find Robin... that he’d all but disappeared in thin air... that he wouldn’t be the only one wearing stripes... I remember because he put a really weird emphasis on the words be and stripes and...,” her eyes widened and she gasped as she looked at him in what could only be described as pure shock. (Yes this happens, people can talk for this long and since I personally know headcannon that Marinette is ADHD this long ass paragraph is just another Tuesday bud)

He sat there, surprised that she figured it all out so quickly. (yeah bub it’s called plot convenience and it’s because of me, the writer, I don’t wanna focus on secret ID shenanigans, I got other plans for yall, also Mari is smart, don’t underestimate her)

“You’re Robin,” she breathed, “they turned you into a bee. Wait- How the hell did they turn you into a bee?!”

He chuckled, “Bee-lieve me I’ve been asking myself that question for more than a year,”

She bit her lip, seemingly contemplating his words and ignoring his pun, “Tikki do you know anything that could help? Do you think Miraculous magic-,”

He felt his heart stop, he flew up to her face, flying at eye level, “Wait, did you just say Miraculous? Harley said if I could find the Guardian of the miraculous, they could help me, do you know where they are? I’ve been looking for so long,” (‘°;~*.plot convenience.*~;°’)

Marinette blinked at him and Tikki's face dawned with realization.

“I’m the guardian of the miraculous,” Marinette said softly, “Tikki, that means I can help him, right?”

Tikki nodded and he had to dial down the hope in his heart because the look on her face told him there was a Kim Kardashian sized butt on the way.

“We can help him, but we’re gonna have to wait. (don’t look at me like that, do u want them to have time to bond or not?) You’re not trained enough to pull it off yet. If you were to do it now, all three of us would be out of commission for far too long, especially with Hawkmoth on the prowl,” Tikki said.

They must’ve been able to sense his sadness because they were staring at him with an incredible amount of pity. The amount was quite unsettling actually and he suddenly felt a primal like urge to pun. (An extract from my book: “My unhealthy coping mechanisms and how to use them,” specifically Chapter 8: “Humor hides the pain”)

Suddenly Tikki’s face lit up, the whiplash of her expression change throwing any notion of punning out the window.

“Well, there’s one thing we could do,” she said, excitedly, zipping buzzing around “If he wears a miraculous, he'll return back to human form while transformed,”

Marinette perked up at the idea, but confusion soon overtook her features, “But Tikki, most of the miraculous are bigger than he is,”

Tikki waved her away,” It’s fine it’ll work,”

“Ok,” Marinette said after a bit of thought. She stood and he followed while she started climbing down her skylight,” I’m thinking you can try each of them out for different patrols and then we’ll see which one matches you best. This could be fun, having some fun sized company while figuring out how to defeat Hawkmoth,”

He laughed, flying near her ear, “Fun sized, huh? I’ll have you know I’m considered tall in human form, unlike some of us,”

She laughed and rolled her still tear stained eyes, and so, the beginning of a bee-autiful friendship bloomed.

Marinette walked to her closet and Jason took in her room. It was very pink, but in a well-balanced way - it wasn’t completely overbearing. His eye caught on a few pictures of Adrien Agreste on her wall but figured now wouldn’t be a great time to bring it up. (Look he’s already more emotionally aware, #foreshadowing of character development)

She removed a big box from her closet. She opened it and it was filled with what appeared to be a bunch of scrap materials. At the bottom she removed a bigger bundle of black and red fabric and he flew closer.

She put it in her lap and Jason had to do a double take when he realized that her hands were glowing and what the actual fuck- it was a box now -fuck fuck fuck- why was it a box? How? What- Jason was pretty sure he did not sign up for this.

She put the box down in front of her and to his relief she opened her mouth to speak as she lifted the lid, so he’d understand everyth- and its jewellery.

The box contained jewellery. Animal themed jewellery by the looks of things.

He then realized that these were probably the other miraculous.

She looked over each artefact before handing him the yellow and black hairclip.

Out of all of them, she picked the bee miraculous.

“Hilarious,” he replied dryly, giving her a look, he realized too late she wouldn’t be able to register- on account of, well you know… (if u don’t know by now, you don’t get to find out anymore)

She gave him a grin and replied, “I certainly think it is,”

Her teasing expression turned into one of worry, “I mean we could switch it out if it makes you uncomfortable-,” (being a sassy people pleaser with no filters really do be like this tho)

He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. What do I do?”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer before obviously realizing that she didn’t have an answer. She turned to Tikki and the kwami had a fond smile on her face before turning to Jason. (Just Tikki casually mentor- moming Mari because Fu is useless)

“Just step on the miraculous, it’ll sense that you’re human,” the creature replied.

When he stepped onto the bee miraculous, its kwami appeared.

Pollen stared at him for a few seconds before she realized what was happening.

After an explanation about her power set and what exactly he could do in suit, he transformed.

He felt his human body appearing. He was taller and more built than he remembered being. His flying clearly had physical consequences then, not that he was complaining.

His suit included a pair of bee wings. His hair was longer than he remembered it being too.

He had a black leather jacket and combat boots. With it was a pair of practical black leggings and a yellow t-shirt with three thick black stripes. (The three stripes represent each one of his families, the Todds, the Waynes and The Dupain-Chengs, because I can) He also had a pair of black gloves. His boots had yellow laces. On his face was a black and yellow striped domino mask. The top sat on his hip. The bee miraculous sat on the middle of his chest in the form of a broach.

He all but sprinted to the mirror. He stared at his face, his blue eyes and his nose that never healed quite right after breaking it that one time. His black hair was messy and stuck up every which way, his cheekbones were as high as always, and he had a little bit of stubble and it was so familiar and so new all at once.

He touched his face, barely registering the tears flowing down his cheeks and laughed in relief. He was human again. This was real! He could- he was closer to normal than he ever thought he’d get to be.

He turned to Marinette who was staring up at him in shock. He picked her up and spun her around, laughing in joy. And after a moment she joined in. He put her down and put his hands on her shoulders, smiling widely, “Thank you. Thank you so much,”

She smiled up at him, a slightly sad look on her face, “I’m sorry, it’s not permanent,”

“Don’t be sorry. For the first time I have hope. It will be permanent eventually, and till then, I have you with me, right?” he squeezed her shoulder, still high on the feeling of hope and warmth and familiarity.

When he was overcome with the sudden urge to pull her into a hug, he didn’t resist.

He held her close, resting his chin on her head, “Damn, I missed this. Hugging, I mean. I haven’t... it’s been so long,” (not that he got all that many hugs from Bruce “emotionally constipated” Wayne)

She wrapped her arms around him, “I can imagine,”

They stood there a while before the time for patrol came along. She transformed and they made their way to the Eiffel tower, where they met Chat.

The cat themed hero rose his brow questioningly, “I thought we didn’t recruit new heroes unless it was an emergency?”

Ladybug smiled nonchalantly, “It’s Guardian business, he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in our team for at least a few months so we might as well get used to working as a team,”

Chat Noir eyed him wearily and he stepped forward, sticking his hand out, “Hi, I’m Blackback, nice to meet you,”

Chat Noir shook his hand and gave Ladybug a sceptical look, “An American? Really?”

“Please Chat, he's not American, it’s just the glamour hiding his actual accent,” she replied simply, shooting Jason a worried look.

He couldn’t give away his identity, but he was also technically a bee, he didn’t really have an identity to give away. So, her behaviour was strange. Unless she wanted to give him an identity somehow?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of patrol.

When they got home Marinette revealed that she wanted to give him the fox miraculous. If they asked Trixx she would be able to design the costume in a way that allowed him to look like a normal civilian, without the mask.

Trixx's glamour was also stronger than the rest so his true identity as Jason Todd would be protected.

And she could help him fake an accent.

Since Marinette was a year younger than him he could just pick up where he left off school wise.

She convinced her parents that he was an exchange student in desperate need of a place to stay because the person he would’ve stayed with backed out last minute.

They agreed easily and Jason decided to not question it.

It was his third family. His second if you only counted non abusive ones. First if you wanted one with a healthy family dynamic.

They got him a fake birth certificate and name. He went with the alias Thomas Grayson. He thought it was kind of funny, and it paid homage to both Bruce and Dick. It gave him something from home to hold on to. (Jason isn’t really salty about not being avenged in this au, he didn’t die and Talia and the pit madness wasn’t there to egg on his anger. But maybe if I ever get back to this au we could do a thing with it… guess we’ll have to wait and see ;-) no promises tho)

He built himself another home with Marinette and her family. And before he knew it, he was happy again. He felt secure.

Through the weeks, he ingrained himself into Marinette's life. In a blink of an eye, they were best friends, and he couldn’t imagine life without her.

He loved living with her family as she trained to be strong enough to turn him back to normal.

He grew close to Marinette’s friends and was her shoulder to cry on about Adrien. He and Adrien got along pretty well, and he and Marc and Rose traded Literature jokes. Max would join in when it involved Shakespeare.

Then Lila happened. (She’s a staple in Maribat fiction. U can’t have Maribat without Lila. Or well u can but that’s usually a very specific au)

Her lies started out simple enough. Then she started manipulating everyone and he, Marinette, Chloe and Adrien were one scheme away from being ostracized. They sat in the back row.

They ignored her sneers and let her lie to her heart’s content. Then one day she said something that made both Marinette and Jason freeze.

“You know, I was childhood friends with Jason Todd (I know she usually gets the names wrong but like her knowing the name just makes this next bit better) You know, Bruce Wayne’s ward who died a while ago? It was just so sad. He grew up in a nice family but his parents both died in a car accident and Brucie took pity on him. He even let us keep in contact afterwards, since our parents were such good friends. We all miss them dearly of course. We were neighbours the year we lived in Gotham, you know? We'd play every day-,” she started fake crying, “Oh it just gets too much sometimes,”

But to Jason’s shock Alya didn’t move to console Lila, in fact, she was staring at the brunette in shock.

He turned his gaze to Marinette to see the girl wearing the biggest, coldest, most satisfied smirk. She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at Lila in a way that made shivers go down his spine.

He turned back, this ought to be good.

And it was.

Alya absolutely lost it.

She ripped Lila a new one and frankly? Jason was impressed. (Alya has a temper and she’s a fangirl, and we all know how we get when someone gets something wrong about one of our hyperfixations, even if it’s an old one so like yall can imagine how bad Lila had fucked up)

When an akuma flew in towards Lila, Alya grabbed it, staring the girl down with a fury he didn’t know she could possess, “Don’t you dare! Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen how easily you get akumatized and this time I’m not letting it happen!”

Of course, Alya then got akumatized but hey it beat another version of Lila.

Everyone made up but they weren’t quite as close as before. Their group tended to consist mostly out of him, Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Kagami and Luka.

Other than that incident and akuma attacks, life was pretty good.

In fact, it was great.

He and Marinette would spend nights on her balcony, laughing and slow dancing. They star gazed and went on patrols. He helped her when she got nightmares and she returned the favour. They went on long walks and spent the holidays together. They crammed for tests and he played model for her designs. They worked in the bakery and hung out with their friends both in and out of suit. They’d joke about his technical bee-ness and he and Chat drove her mad with puns. In retaliation she’d introduce him as her bee friend to people or only give him honey and bee themed things. (ok this sentence sounds weird but I mean like when she brings them sweets from the bakery to snack on while working and stuff.)

And one laugh, memory and fight at a time, he started to fall. (I just want good things for Jason, and really can you blame me?)

Through the months, he kept up to date on the news about Bruce Wayne and Marinette held his hand each time a new kid joined his brood. She reminded him that no child could be replaced and reassured him that of course Bruce would want him back when they figured everything out.

And if he didn’t, she’d kick his ass into space, and he’d stay with her family in Paris- a family she made sure he knew he was a part of.

He helped Sabine in the kitchen and was the only one who came closest to beating Marinette’s Ultimate Mega Strike 3 record. Tom taught him to shave and bake. He was integrated into their family and they treated him as part of the family.

But even if they were giving him everything they were, he missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. And Barbara. And Gotham. He missed them all so much. He missed home.

So, 14 months later, when Marinette told him they had a meeting with the Justice League about the Hawkmoth situation, Jason felt his heart skip a beat.

“What?” he asked softly, his eyes brimming with tears (Marinette taught him how to emotion, you see. So Jason is emotionally stable-ish enough to cry without feeling embarrassed about it), “I get to see him again?”

Marinette nodded and hugged him from behind, “I’m planning on telling him what happened. Is there anything you can tell him to verify who you are?”

Memories from a million years ago entered his mind, “Yes,”

She took his hand and took a step back, “And I think I can fix you before we go, I’m strong enough. But I’d still like your help in the final battle, I mean I know you’re going home but...,”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled, “Of course, Pixie. I’ll always be there for you when you need me,”

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, a movement so familiar it was practically a part of him. He pulled her close and cried into her hair.

“What if he doesn’t believe me?” he asked softly, after a while, resting his chin on top of her head.

“He will,” she replied, tightening her grip around his waist.

They both knew she had no guarantee of that. That she had no way of knowing for sure. Neither of them did. And it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

The next day they do the magic turning back thing. It freaks him out quite a bit but not as much as her revealing the miraculous freaked him out the first time, you get kinda used to the magic shenaniganary. They’re both passed out for an hour afterwards and when they wake up, he holds her, crying, because he was finally, finally back to normal and this was real and permanent, and it was over.

She cried with him and held him, and they then went out and he wore a shirt she made for him, and they got ice cream the next day. They celebrated some more and went to the park with the squad and they had a picnic.

It was better than he ever could've imagined.

While the sun was setting, they stood back on her balcony, where they first spoke all those months ago, slow dancing. He pulled away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at her as the orange light of the sunset shone on them. (So aesthetic)

“Thank you, Marinette, for everything,” he says as he rubs his thumb across her cheek. His hand holding her face. She puts her hand over his and closes her eyes, savouring the moment.

She opened her eyes again and smiled, “I’d do it again and more, if it meant I’d get to be with you,”

He started leaning down, “If I lost you, I’d fly all over the world just to find you again,”

She raised to her tip toes, faces millimetres from one another, blue bells meeting ice, “So it was all worth it in the end?”

He moves closer, eyes searching hers. “Definitely,” he breathes.

She closes the distance, and he picks her up and spins her around. They break apart and their laughter fills the air.

(now that’s enough fluff, allow me to drown you in angst)

The next day they stood on the Eiffel tower. She took his hand, “Let’s recap. I go in, we have our Hawkmoth meeting, then I ask if I can speak to Batman and Nightwing alone. Then I tell them I found you, then I give them – are you sure it’s necessary for me to give them your blood, hair and a cheek swab? Isn’t that overkill?” (Batman is serious about his no kill rule, but he’s also serious about his there’s no such thing as overkill rule)

He shook his head and she sighed, “Okay. Then I give him means to contact me and I come back. Now remember they might take a while to process and they won’t necessarily call immediately-,”

“What if they never call?” he asked, gripping her hand tightly.

She ran her finger softly through his hair, “Then you have us to help you get through it,”

He nodded, she kissed his cheek and stepped through the portal with Queen Bee, Chat Noir and Viperion. He and Ryuuko stayed behind as backup, he wielded the Fox miraculous these days, but kept the name Blackback, always wearing a black leather jacket no matter the transformation.

He and Ryuko discussed fighting styles, she was kindly trying to distract him, and if it had been anything else he needed distracting from, it would’ve worked.

So passed the slowest forty-five minutes of his life. Chat Noir and Queen Bee exit a portal and so the wait for Marinette and Luka began.

She and Bruce were talking now. Bruce would know he was alive. This was make or break for him. Luka was nearby to act as back up worst-case scenario.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by someone taking and rubbing circles on his back. He looked down to see Ryuuko on his one side and saw Chat Noir on his other.

“We’ve got you,” Chloe said standing in front of him, hand on his unoccupied shoulder.

He swallowed and nodded. She squeezed his upper arm and met his gaze, “Breathe, you’re safe, honey,”

So, 30 more minutes pass. They sit down and somewhere along the line Chat goes and grabs a dozen croissants from the bakery.

In another situation he might’ve laughed. He’d baked this morning’s batch and now he got to eat some of it for free, of course, technically he could get others for free too but-

The portal opened behind them and Ladybug and Viperion stepped out. He noted that she didn’t have the bag of his DNA with her anymore.

She smiled softly at him, “Now we wait,”

And wait they did.

They waited two weeks.

And then the burner phone that's number they'd given Bruce rang.

Jason froze, Marinette jumped up and ran to get it.

He couldn't move as she walked over and put the phone on speaker, she grabbed his hand and he held onto her for dear life.

"We can both hear you now, Nightwing," she said.

There was a beat of silence on the other side of the line, "Can he- If you're- can I speak to him? In- um- private?"

Marinette looked at him, and he nodded. She took the phone off speaker and handed it to him.

He held it up to his ear and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the circles Marinette were drawing on his hand with her thumb.

"He- hey Dick," he said. He heard his brother's breathing hitch, followed by a few seconds of silence.

"When did Batman find you?"

"25th May 2017,"

"Who's your favourite author?"

"Mary Shelley tied with Jane Austin,” he replied.

Dick stayed silent for too long and before he could stop himself the words fell from his mouth, desperation clinging to each syllable,” My favourite- my favourite playwright is Shakespeare, and my favourite school subject is English. If I could pick any day job it would be being a writer. My favourite colour is blue. Alfred has a secret fear of dolphins. You have had a ridiculously huge crush on Barbara for years and she had no idea, and I found a picture you drew under your old room's bedside table of you two getting married. I folded the picture up and hid it in a small box of memories I kept in the farthest corner of my closet under clothes I never wore. I have a round scar on the lower left side of my back where Willis Todd burned me with a cigarette when I was 5 that you don’t know I know you know about. My first Christmas at the manor you found me in the rose garden cutting a few off to take to my mother's grave and I was terrified that you would yell at me but instead you drove me to the graveyard and that was the day I decided to give you a real chance. I despise carrots but I eat them when Alfred makes them because I don't want to be a burden. And I-," he choked on a sob- when had he started crying?

He took a shuddering breath, and swallowed some of his tears, trying to make sure the words got out right, "I've missed you guys for every single second that I've been gone,"

His stomach tied itself up in a million knots as the silence stretched on. He could hear Dick moving the phone.

"Can I speak to Ladybug again please?" A female voice he didn't recognize said.

He handed the phone to Marinette and pressed his hand over his mouth to try to contain the sobs. He felt like a knife was twisting his stomach. He couldn't even hear what Marinette was saying. (I’m going through something irl and as a result u guys get to read angst by the bucketloads and I regret nothing)

Dick didn't want to talk to him. He should've just answered the question, he shouldn't have given all the extra information. Now they were never going to believe that it's really him and he would never see them again. Maybe they knew it was him and they just didn't want him-

"Jason, breathe with me," he heard Marinette's voice. His eyes latched onto hers like a lifeline, he became aware of her hands holding his.

She took his face in her hands and rested her forehead against his, in a motion so familiar that it came as easy as breathing. Well as easy as it usually was to breathe, right now excluded.

After he calmed down, she explained to him what they discussed. They would go to Gotham and meet and discuss things from there.

They wanted to meet him, but they still didn’t completely believe that it was him. He knew this for a fact because they had organized for M’gann to be there to confirm what he was saying. (Yassss M'gann my darling girl, I adore out lil Martian)

Marinette had suggested that they meet in the Batcave in an hour. Everyone had agreed. He assumed she had a plan as to why she wanted to wait. And he trusted her, so he waited for her to explain.

“I want to take the team, as backup. If you’re not comfortable with it, I want to at least take Luka. I would suggest just letting one of us wield is miraculous, but his Second Chance Timer limit is an hour so it would be most beneficial,” she said, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding his.

He nodded, sitting up straighter, but not releasing his grip on her hand, “We can bring the team, it’s smart to have backup. Besides if things go haywire, we have Luka to stop us.”

“Then let’s go get our team, love,”

(oh, I should probably mention that only he and LB knows everyone’s Identities. Or well rather no one knows like officially. Like everyone lowkey knows everyone's and a few of them have officially revealed themselves to each other, but not everyone is officially revealed to everyone and Mari and Jason are the only ones who aren’t officially revealed to anyone else, it’s kinda like the vibes of knowing your best friend is queer but not saying anything because they haven’t officially come out yet but like you know because they ain’t nearly as subtle as they think. Like that aesthetic.)

Anyway, 50 minutes later, they’re all gathered on the Eiffel Tower. Jason saw Marinette give Luka a nod to reset his timer. Suddenly he was enveloped in a light with a scratch that wasn’t there a few seconds before on his cheek, his expression quite annoyed.

Marinette immediately furrowed her brows, “How many times?”

Viperion shook his head, “Don’t worry, only one so far, but they try to restrain us. We’re gonna have to try plan b this time,” Everyone nodded, they waited two minutes before the agreed upon time and Mari opened a portal, but instead of appearing out in the opened, they hid in the shadowy parts of the cave.

Jason used his illusion to hide them from any observant eyes and they spread out a bit. He and Mari stayed together, Cloe flew to get a higher perspective and hide Viperion on one of the cave’s many ledges while Chat just moved a few feet away to have a slightly different hiding spot. Kagami dropped into her wind form and was flying above them to eavesdrop, she’d go to Luka if she heard anything of importance so he could go restart again.

They’d be one step ahead of the Bats no matter what they pulled, after all, they had all the time in the world.

They watched them all get into position as time neared. Jason didn’t know all the kids but recognized them from the news.

Dick, Bruce and M’gann stood near the bat computer with Barbara – who was in a wheelchair but that was a realization to deal with later- and Alfred.

The minute they were supposed to appear Jason cast another illusion to make it appear as though they had arrived. As expected, weapons and restraints immediately swarmed on them, each kid going for a different miraculous member. Too bad the images turned into orange dust as soon as they touched them.

The tiny one in the Robin uniform was red in the face and immediately started throwing a tantrum, “Father! They’ve tricked us-,”

Before he could get another word out, Chloe mass-venomed the horde of kids that we’re sent to attack them. He counted Black bat, Red Robin, Batgirl, Signal and Robin. They were all frozen in the middle of the room and before the others near the computer could move, Kagami trapped them in a (rather large) ring of fire. They had enough space to move around comfortably but if they tried approaching the edge the flames would grow larger.

Batman growled and his eyes searched through the cave, but he wouldn’t see them, no matter how hard he searched.

Jason stared at them. Dick was also searching the cave, but he seemed to look more hopeful than angry. Alfred seemed his usual calm self and Barbara was glancing around the cave more subtly. He didn’t bother looking at the rest of the batkids because M’gann was staring right at him, staying right where she was despite her ability to fly.

“Hi, Jason,” she softly spoke into his mind, he felt emotion overwhelm him, she’d known him before everything, and she knew it was him and it was a lot.

He knew she wasn’t probing around his brain for information like he was sure Bruce had asked her to, she didn’t have to, she knew it was him.

“Can you please tell me why we’re surrounded by fire?” she asked.

“We have a time traveller,” he replied.

“Ah, not a fan of Bruce’s restrain and question method, then? Can’t say I blame you, though I do think you’ve proven your point,”

“You really think it’s a good idea to release all of them?” he asked sceptically.

“… Good point. Maybe leave the brood in the middle in whatever frozen state they’re in and just let us in the fire out. They really just think it’s too good to be true… Jason, I won’t let them hurt you,”

“Okay,” he agreed softly. He turned to Marinette and gave her a slight nod. She returned with one of her own.

They walked over to Kagami’s ring of fire and he held their illusion until they were right in front of it. He held on to it for a bit to make sure everyone else would be able to stay in position. Chloe would keep the cavalry venomized and Chat and Viperion would stick to the shadows, unless necessary.

Jason dropped the illusion and watched four heads snap to him. M'gann simply gave him a soft smile and a nod of encouragement.

Kagami moved herself to stand next to Marinette and turned back into her human form, glaring at them with a silent warning.

Their attention was elsewhere, though. For a long time they just stood there and stared at one another in silence. They studied every part of one another they could see.

His eyes caught on Barbara’s wheelchair and he felt ready to destroy whatever put her there. She met his eyes and he held her gaze. She must’ve seen something there because she gave a small smile as she allowed a few tears to escape her eyes.

“Miss Martian?” Batman broke the silence like a cheap dinner plate, shattering it in a matter of seconds.

“It’s him,” M’gann answered without a hint of hesitation.

It was Alfred that moved first. He took a few hesitant steps towards him and before Jason knew it the man was in front of him. Alfred reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, desperately studying him for a moment before pulling him into a hug only Alfred could give.

It took Jason a moment to respond but when he did he returned it wholeheartedly.

After a few minutes they pulled apart and it took him a moment to realize that they’d both started crying. When he looked up Dick was only a few feet away. The moment Alfred stepped away Dick pulled him close.

“I thought you were dead, kid. I thought I’d never see you again, I thought I lost even more family. You were too young, too innocent. Fuck Jason,” Dick whispered, tightening his grip, “I’m so glad you’re alive,”

Jason held on to his brother and that night they cried about terrible endings and broken beginnings. They cried about lost time and found family.

It wasn’t the end yet, Hawkmoth was still terrorizing Paris and he had no idea what Bruce thought yet. There were all his other kids, his brothers and sisters. There were his teammates and the incredible story of how he’d been turned into a bee of all things.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

But just for a moment, a strand of a singular moment, he had his brother in his arms again and he was back home. His first real home.

Things weren’t perfect, as things rarely are but it didn’t matter. Because part of the beauty of life is how it builds and breaks us in a cycle of love and loss.

And that night they laughed with a lightness and joy none of them had fully been able to hold onto in years.

I hope you guys enjoyed!

This is lowkey totally gonna be the au I go to when I don’t know what to write lol, maybe write a bit of what happens afterwards or a part of everything during the year he lived with Mari them or just y’know shenanigans

#maribat #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #jasonette #bee movie au #aka the deep dark hole within the deep dark hole #I've been working on this for a month #probably more #my brain held me captive with this au it held me at gunpoint and stalked me and wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it #me: casually attempting to write anything else #my brain: *slaps me with ideas for this* NO #and the worst part is there's more that's not written just bull my brain came up with #and i can't believe I put angsty life philosophy writing in a CRACK AU #THIS IS THE VERY DEFINITION OF A CRACK AU #WHY #I AM SO INVESTED AND I'M MAD ABOUT IT #i enjoyed writing this and that fact alone infuriates me #blame moonie for this #and u know what blame bugabunny too #(fuck i hope i got their name right)#if it hadn't been for the two of them discussing this again i would've forgotten all about it and i woulda been allowed to write #my kaldur x marinette fic in peace. or my lila time loop fic. OR LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE #anyway i tried to make his outfit red hood esque but like only the parts i liked about it #aka the leather jacket and the combat boots #I don't know how i feel about the fact that i wrote this but what's done is done #*sigh*#jason x marinette #why me #nightwing fluff #but also angst

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