#but for others I’ve done nothing but show up

[yellowbrokenblue]

Could you write something about Harry, where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour or maybe she is a 6th member of the oned (you choose how to do it) and they keep finding a way to escape without the people seeing to sleep with each other or he tries to take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smutttt please

“My boyfriend is literally on stage.”

kofi!

cw: public sex, slight daddy kink

There was something about being surrounded by tens of thousands of teenage girls screaming your boyfriend’s name that made you feel so good that after all of this, it was your arms he was running into. Not theirs.

Liam, Zayn, Niall, Louis and Harry were the most desired men on the planet right now, but little did the fans know that you and Harry were exclusive for a while now and there was nothing they could do about it.

The guys had been nice to you for the most part. You’d joined their North American tour to get as much time with Harry as you could. But they were always busy, between rehearsals and recording sessions you didn’t have any time together. Most of the tour was you just watching the shows and exploring the city on your own, it wasn’t exactly what you had expected.

You took a quick snap of Harry performing a solo verse on stage during the last song, before slipping away to make it backstage before the crowd dispersed and so that you could greet Harry as soon as he came off stage.

He was so insanely attractive on stage, the way his jeans clung to the same legs that you’d straddle him on, and that hair that you’d tangle your fingers in…

You stood in the wings of the stage, watching as Harry skipped off towards you, a towel in his hand that he used to wipe the sweat off of his head.

He ran into your arms, grinning, lifting you up and spinning you around.

You hand him a hair tie, and he swiftly ties his hair into a tight bun, keeping the hair away from his face. He knew you liked it when his hair was tied up, it meant you could see all his features properly.

“Good show once again, rockstar.”

“All for you, baby.” Harry said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I put on that show and you’re the only thing on my mind.”

You grin at him, your hands on his waist pulling him closer to you.

He quickly bucked his hips against your stomach, showing off the hardness forming under his pants, you look up at him, eyes wide and mouth watering.

“I’ve been waiting all day to get my hands on you, gorgeous.” Harry breathes, his hot breath hitting against your neck.

“Then you can have me. Where’s the hotel?” You ask.

“No hotel tonight, sweetheart. We’re overnight on the bus tonight, Dallas to Kansas City.”

“The bus?” You question, disheartened that you wouldn’t be getting the night in a hotel together like you expected.

“Don’t look so sad, baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, quiet enough that no one else in the room will hear him, “I’ve been waiting all day for that sweet cunt of yours, hotel or no hotel, I’m still gonna have it.”

Your heart skips a beat, “Harry, you share a bus with Niall and Zayn. They’ll hear us.”

Harry smirks. “Then you’re just gonna have to be a good quiet girl for me then, aren’t ya.”

You’d never had sex in the bus before, nothing had went further than a make out.

Harry joked around about how notoriously loud you were in bed, he joked around about how all the other guests at night would be kept up at night when he fucked you.

You had no idea how he expected you to stay quiet on a bunk in a tour bus.

“Get to my bunk,” Harry says, “I gotta pick my stuff up from my dressing room and I’ll meet you there.”

You done exactly what Harry said, you made your way to his tour bus and got straight into his bunk, pulling the curtain closed. It was as small as you would imagine, considering it was a bed in a bus.

You heard the door open soon after, with the guys making their way onto the bus and walking straight up to the small living and dining area at the front where the TV was. Harry however, kicked off his shoes and jumped straight in the bunk with you.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned, pulling the curtain closed once again, and placing a fierce kiss on your lips.

“Hey.” You replied.

“I’m not wasting any time with you.” He said, “Sit here in between my legs, angel.”

He lifted you into position between his legs, brushing his face against your neck, his lips then attaching to your skin.

“Remember and be quiet.” He whispered into your ear, before returning to the soft skin of your neck.

You felt his hands on your thighs, moving closer and closer up your skirt, until his fingers brushed over the fabric of your panties.

You’d been soaking wet all night for him, watching him up on stage in those damn jeans, knowing damn well what was underneath and in store for you later.

It was soon after that Harry tore the panties from you, ripping them in half for his fingers to gain access to your pussy, your toes clenching as his fingers moved in rapid circles, the tension building between your legs.

He had to put one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Gagging you already and I don’t have a finger inside you yet, nevermind my dick.” He lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “How you gonna last, huh?”

You moan into his hand as he brings you to an orgasm. You feel your body quiver as he continues to pump his fingers into you, soaking them in your sticky cum.

“That’s it baby.”

This was one of the longest orgasms you’d ever had from just his fingers- something about the anticipation and naughtiness of being so dirty just feet away from his bandmates, paired with his hand firmly pressed over your mouth was too much for your body to deal with.

You were still processing your high when Harry moved so he was balancing on top of you, moving your body so your head was rested on the pillow. You watched as he slid his pants down his legs and shoved them at the end of his bed, and began to palm his cock over his boxers.

He was so big- it shocked you every time how he actually fit inside of you.

“Sorry for rushin’ baby, but I need to be inside of you,” He said quietly, “Just stay nice and quiet for me, okay?”

You nod, and he discards the underwear, and you hike your skirt as far up your hips as you can.

Balancing above you, he sunk his cock slowly inside of you.

“Harry, oh!-”

He slammed his hand over your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“Quiet, princess. We have company, remember.”

He stayed very still for a short moment, his cock still buried inside of you. He enjoyed watching you squirm, watching your eyes beg for him to move. Your sweet, sweet eyes. Those eyes he got to stare at while he performed, the eyes which were the last thing that he saw before he kissed you, and those eyes he got to see when he fucked you.

When he started to move his dick, thrusting his hips, your eyes squeezed shut.

“Darlin’” He whispered, “You open your eyes when I fuck you. Understand?”

You nod, opening your eyes again.

Harry was moving faster, his thrusts deep and hard. You had no idea it was possible to cum in five minutes purely from a man’s dick until you met Harry. He knew exactly what to do with your body in bed.

Your walls began to clench around him, your body shaking with every moment. By now you’d be screaming his name, but his hand was still firmly over your mouth. Any possible sound you could make was escaping through your nose as Harry’s dick pounded into you.

Harry’s bunk was small. It was crazy how little space this man needed to make you feel like this. This good.

“Cum on daddy’s cock.” Harry whispered. The tour bus TV was loud enough that hopefully they wouldn’t be able to hear the two of you by now, “Make a mess all over for me, baby.”

Harry reached for your clit, rubbing fast circles around your swollen bud until you reached your orgasm.

“Oh, god. Oh baby.” Harry groaned, indicating he was coming.

You moaned into his hand louder. The feeling of his cum filling you up.

“My sweet girl.” Harry moaned.

He felt so good.

So fucking good.

The thought of the others listening just made it all so more exciting.

[sasheemo]

When We Collide

Chapter 14

Chapter Summary: You wake to Agatha's unsettling yet impossibly grounding presence, unspoken questions threatening to unravel a fragile moment. And just like that, walls begin to crack.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N (very long, sorryyy): I still can’t believe it, but here we are. After exactly one month since the last chapter was published, I’m officially back! I can’t promise the creative block I’ve been struggling with for When We Collide is completely gone, but I’m really trying, and I’m so happy to continue this story.

Before you dive in, I just want to take a moment to make a small dedication:

Over the past week, I’ve received an overwhelming amount of love and support that I never expected. Moots, strangers, and even anonymous readers stepped forward in the comments of my update posts on Tumblr or slid into my DMs to show their appreciation and encouragement. You know who you are. It’s because of all of you that, in just over 24 hours, I managed to write an entire chapter after being stuck for a whole month. You gave me an incredible boost of energy and motivation. So, this chapter is for you. To my moots, followers, and each dedicated reader of When We Collide. To everyone who messaged me privately or left a comment on a post or a fic. To those who, even without reaching out directly, have always supported me with their thoughts and good vibes, waiting patiently for an update and never abandoning this story. What you’ve done, and continue to do, for me is amazing. You’ve filled me with so much love and support, and I truly hope this chapter (and the ones to come—yes, they’re coming, hehe) can serve as a proper thank-you.

It’s true that writing should primarily be for yourself, but when you receive this kind of support and encouragement, it becomes something truly special to write for others too.

Let me know what you think of the chapter, and thank you from the bottom of my heart! 💜

PS: Spoiler—I literally felt my heart break while writing a certain piece of dialogue. Had to pause, pick up the pieces, and keep going. Sorry y’all, I couldn’t resist 💔

Chapter Index

Read on AO3

You stir awake to the faint glow of the early afternoon, the light filtering softly through the edges of the curtains. For a brief, suspended moment, your mind lingers in the haze of sleep, the kind where nothing feels quite real, and you’re not entirely sure where you are. Then the weight registers.

The warm, undeniable weight of someone pressed against you.

Your breath catches, your body locking in place as you become acutely, painfully aware of Agatha’s head resting on your shoulder.

Her dark hair brushes against your neck, faintly ticklish, while her arm lies draped across your waist.

You don’t dare move. Not even a twitch.

Every nerve in your body stands at attention, screaming for you to do something. But you lie there, frozen, your heart hammering so loudly you’re sure it’ll wake her. The thought of turning your head to look at her fills you with a mixture of terror and curiosity, and you’re too paralyzed to face either.

You try—really try—to focus on the practicalities. How did this even happen? You’d climbed into bed hours ago, stiff as a board, determined to keep your distance. You’d stayed on your side, curled up awkwardly, staring at the wall like it held the answers to every question you were too afraid to ask.

But then sleep had come. Or at least something like it—a restless tangle of half-dreams and unconscious movements, shifting and turning under the weight of the night’s tension. 

At some point, the gap between you must have closed. At some point, her arm must have found its way across you.

A thousand excuses rush through your mind, each more fragile than the last, as if rationalizing the moment could make the closeness disappear. But they all crumble, leaving behind one undeniable truth: you don’t want to move. Not really.

You tell yourself it’s fear. Fear of waking her. Fear of the look on her face if she realized the position you’re in. Confusion? Annoyance? Disgust? The thought twists your stomach into painful knots. But beneath the fear, another emotion lingers, quieter and far more dangerous.

It feels… good.

You hate how much you notice it, how your senses seem to betray you with every passing second. The softness of her hair brushing your neck, the heat of her body radiating against your side, the faint pressure of her arm resting on you—it all feels far too natural, far too easy, like some cruel joke the universe decided to play.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to move, to shift, to put some distance between you. But your body doesn’t listen. You’re too hyper-aware of every tiny detail, of how close she is, of how safe she feels.

A shaky exhale escapes you, your chest rising just enough to disturb the delicate stillness between you. Agatha stirs slightly in her sleep, a soft sound escaping her lips as her arm tightens instinctively around you.

Your heart practically leaps into your throat.

You swallow hard, trying to convince yourself that this is normal. That there’s nothing strange or inappropriate about lying here like this. That it doesn’t mean anything. That it’s just an accident, a coincidence. That’s all.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Except it’s not. 

Because no matter how much you want to believe that this is accidental, that she’s completely unaware, a small, traitorous part of you wonders what it would mean if she wasn’t.

You try to focus on the ceiling, on the faint creak of the house settling around you, on anything other than her. But it’s impossible. Because no matter how still you stay, no matter how hard you try to quiet your thoughts, Agatha’s presence fills every corner of the room—and every corner of you.

Your breath hitches as you finally, finally let yourself turn your head. It’s tentative at first, a small, hesitant shift of movement. 

Your chin almost brushes her forehead, and the nearness of her—so close you could count the faint freckles scattered across her skin—leaves you utterly undone. 

For a moment, you can’t think, can’t breathe. The sight of her like this, her face so close to yours, is enough to send your thoughts spiraling.

Your gaze moves carefully, tracing her features as if each one might dissolve into smoke if you looked too quickly.

Sharp and soft. The words loop in your mind like a mantra, and you can’t stop staring. The sharp lines of her jaw and cheekbones, the delicate curve of her lips—they blend danger and allure in a way that leaves you off-balance, like she was never meant to be anything less than both.

Your let your thoughts drift, unbidden, to what you know about her. And, perhaps more troubling, to what you don’t.

You’ve spent all your life in the same coven, shared the same spaces, breathed the same air, yet she’s always been distant. A figure just out of reach, admired and feared in equal measure by most.

You sift through your memories, trying to piece together fragments, to make sense of the person sprawled across you now.

Everyone has been speaking of Agatha’s power in hushed tones since you were children—the raw, unpredictable force of her magic. How it brims with potential but defies control. Even the older witches have always been wary of her, watching her like a storm poised on the horizon.

And then there’s the story. The one no one speaks of outright but that lingers in fragments, carried around by rumors and half-truths.

It was just over a couple of years ago. One of the daughters of your mother’s friends—a girl you barely knew, though her name still echoes through the village homes and halls—was found dead in the woods. Cold, lifeless. Drained.

The whispers said it was Agatha.

They claimed she had taken the girl’s power, siphoned it like a flame devouring a candlewick. That she left her there, alone in the woods, to die. 

But that girl wasn’t just anyone. She was Agatha’s best friend.

The rumors painted it as a calculated act of power, a way to send a message and solidify her place as the rightful heir to the coven’s legacy. They said her magic demanded sacrifice, and she hadn’t hesitated to give one.

But that version of the story never sat right with you.

Even more so now, with Agatha asleep beside you, her head resting on your shoulder, her breathing slow and even in sleep. The idea of this Agatha—the Agatha who clings to you in her slumber—being the monster the rumors describe feels impossible to reconcile.

You’ve always wondered if there was more to the story. If the truth had been buried beneath layers of fear, jealousy, and Evanora’s carefully orchestrated manipulations. 

Because if there’s one thing you know about Evanora Harkness, it’s that she’d burn the truth to ashes to protect her image.

The slow rise and fall of your chest brushes faintly against Agatha’s arm, jolting you back to the present. You exhale shakily, your gaze locking once again on her face.

She looks so… harmless. The thought slips into your mind unbidden, and you can’t stop yourself from clinging to it. Here, now, in your bed, tangled against you, she does look harmless. Innocent, even.

And yet… the stories remain. The danger, the sharpness, the fury—it’s still there, lurking just beneath her momentary serene exterior. 

You should move. You really should. Break the moment, pull away, regain the distance you’re supposed to have. But you don’t. You can’t. Because for all the danger and mystery that surrounds Agatha Harkness, there’s something else, too.

Something that keeps you rooted in place, your gaze drinking her in, feeling her presence in every breath you take.

The stillness is interrupted by a faint shift. Agatha stirs against you, her body shifting slightly as her fingers twitch where her hand rests near your waist. Her breathing changes, no longer the even, steady rhythm of sleep but something shallower, more conscious.

You freeze, your own breath caught in your chest. Her head lifts just a fraction before settling again, her hair brushing against your neck in a way that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. For one agonizing moment, you wonder if she’ll pull away.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Agatha lets out a soft exhale, her lashes fluttering as her eyes blink open, slow and heavy with sleep. There’s a beat—a single, suspended second where her gaze adjusts, flitting from the faint light of the room to you.

Her arm remains draped across your waist, though her fingers flex slightly, testing their place. Her lips twitch, just barely, into something resembling a smirk.

“Is this how you treat all your guests, or am I just special?” she murmurs, her voice husky and rough from sleep, the teasing lilt sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

The words pull you from your haze of panic into full-blown mortification, heat rising to your face as you open your mouth, then close it, scrambling for a response. 

“You—you asked me to stay!” you stammer, your voice breaking as you shift just a little, glaring at her. “Don’t twist this into—”

Agatha cuts you off with an expression so faux-innocent you want to scream, her tone light but laced with mockery. 

“Did I?” she muses, her brow quirking as though she’s genuinely pondering it. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

Your jaw drops. 

Your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since she stirred, and her smirk only makes it worse. The audacity, the smugness. She’s so calm, like waking up tangled together is just another morning for her.

For you? It’s a waking nightmare—or at least, that’s the excuse you cling to as you try to suppress the heat that is completely taking hold of your whole body. Your fists clench at your sides, and your frustration boils over. 

“You did! You said—” you stop yourself, huffing in exasperation as her smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“And you’re far too fun to annoy.” she counters shifting slightly, her arm sliding away from your waist as she props herself up on one elbow.

You bite back another retort, your face burning as you turn your head to look anywhere but at her. She’s infuriating. Smug and sharp-tongued and—close. Too close.

The silence stretches for a beat, and you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. 

It doesn’t help that she’s still watching you, her gaze a quiet weight against your skin. You can feel it without looking—how her smirk lingers, how her eyes flicker between amusement and something unreadable.

She shifts again, finally breaking the silence. 

“Well,” she says softly, her voice still carrying that teasing lilt, “if this is how you handle all your guests, I can’t imagine they stay very long.”

Your breath hitches, and you glance at her despite yourself, catching the faintest flicker of something beneath her grin. She’s teasing, sure—but there’s an edge to it, a quiet discomfort she’s trying to mask.

You huff again, crossing your arms and refusing to let her get the last word. “Maybe they don’t. But you did ask me to stay, so if you have complaints, take it up with yourself.”

Her grin softens slightly, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans back a little, her hand brushing against the blanket as she rests her weight on her palm. Her gaze flickers briefly to the window, her expression almost thoughtful.

You watch her for a moment, your own irritation ebbing away as curiosity takes its place. She’s still infuriating, still impossible—but there’s something else, too. Something quieter. 

You should let it go. The tension, the moment—it’s already too much and you both literally just woke up. But the question lodges itself in your throat, unspoken words buzzing like a swarm. You don’t even mean to say it. It just… slips out. “What really happened that day?”

Agatha’s head tilts slightly, her eyes cutting back to yours in a sharp, measured motion. 

“What?” she asks, her tone casual, but there’s a sudden wariness in her gaze, the edge of a blade being drawn.

You hesitate, regretting the words almost immediately, but it’s too late now. 

“The girl.” you clarify, your voice quieter than you intended. “The one they say you… killed.”

The room seems to still, the air shifting as the words settle between you. 

Agatha doesn’t move, her expression unreadable, but the flicker of something raw flashes behind her eyes—a shadow that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.

Her lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Really?” she drawls, leaning back slightly, the picture of feigned nonchalance. “That’s what you want to talk about? Here? Now?”

Your stomach twists at the sharpness of her tone, but you don’t look away. 

“I just…” You pause, choosing your words carefully. “I just want to know the truth.”

Agatha lets out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she looks away again. 

“The truth…” she mutters, her voice low, almost mocking. “You’re the first person to actually ask me for it, you know?”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless. 

“Wait.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “No one’s ever—?”

“No.” Agatha cuts in sharply, her tone laced with dry amusement that barely conceals the bitterness beneath.“Why would they? They already think they know. They don’t need my version.” 

She scoffs, her lips curling into a sardonic smirk.

Your chest tightens painfully at the words, the weight of what she’s said settling over you like a heavy fog. If no one’s ever asked for her version of the story, if no one’s cared enough to hear the truth… then everything you’ve heard—the whispers, the rumors, the stories—might not be true. Or at least, not entirely.

Agatha’s gaze flickers back to you, piercing and unreadable, as if she can sense where your thoughts are heading. 

“I know what they say.” she continues, her voice quieter now, colder. “Some of it’s lies, some of it’s not.”

Your breath catches, her words hanging between you like a challenge, daring you to press further. And you do. 

“But if not all of it’s true…” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, “… then why?”

You hesitate, the question twisting in your chest before it finally escapes. “Why do you let them believe those things about you, hmm?”

That stops her cold.

Her gaze locks on you, her expression sharp and unyielding, but there’s something flickering beneath the surface—something fragile and dangerous and far too human.

For a moment, you swear you see something shatter behind the mask she wears so flawlessly. And when she finally speaks, her whispered answer tears through the silence like thunder.

“Because the truth is too awful.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at her. The rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she so desperately tries to hide, steals the breath from your lungs.

But you don’t back down. Not now.

“Maybe.” you say quietly, your voice softening but steady. “But I don’t think it’s worse than the lies, than the stories people tell.”

Her head tilts slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. The tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease, but there’s something in her gaze—a flicker of hesitation, of consideration.

“You’re persistent.” she mutters, the edge returning to her voice, though it’s quieter now.

“And you’re exhausting.” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual despite the knot in your chest tightening with every passing second. “But since it looks like we’re stuck together—and you’re literally in my bed—you might as well tell me.”

You know the truth, though: you’re not really stuck together. Agatha could leave anytime she wanted—she’s clever, resourceful, and probably already thought of four different ways to slip out unnoticed, if she needed or wanted to.

But you also suspect that getting Agatha Harkness to open up requires more than simple patience. She needs to feel cornered—not with malice, but with intent. She has to know that someone is paying attention, that someone cares enough to ask, and that walking away won’t make the questions disappear. So you hold her gaze, refusing to let the moment slip away.

Agatha exhales sharply, the sound laced with frustration as she rubs a hand over her face. For a long, agonizing moment, you think she might retreat entirely. But then her hand falls, and she looks at you again.

And just like that, the walls begin to crack.

[samgirl98]

Connecting a Family 1/?

Next

Jason and his small family go to Gotham to reconnect with the Waynes during his birthday week

This was supposed to be a one-shot. It didn't turn out that way.

“A little to the left. There! Perfect!” Bruce exclaimed.

He turned and talked to the cleaning company manager he had hired.

“And everything is finished? Are the rooms done?”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne. Everything has been done to your and Mr. Pennyworth’s specifications. You are more than welcome to check.”

“Thank you. I'll check in a bit—oh, that banner needs to go over the doorway, not the window!”

Dick went up to the manager Bruce had been speaking to.

“I apologize for this. Bruce is a little nervous,” he said sheepishly.

“It is no problem, Mr. Grayson,” he said, not looking up from his iPad. “He’s not the worst I’ve had, and he's polite even in his demands.”

With that, the manager left.

Dick sighed and went to stop Bruce from harassing the decorators.

Bruce inspected the balloons on the balloon arc for any flaw he thought they might have. What flaws can balloons even have, Bruce?

Still, Dick understood Bruce’s nervousness.

Jason and his small family finally agreed to stay at the Manor for Jason and Alfred’s birthday week. It had been a surprise for the family in Gotham but a pleasant one.

And then Bruce went off the rails, trying to make sure everything was “perfect.”

Again, Dick understood. He wanted Jason and his family to have a great time in Gotham so they would be more inclined to return and visit, but Bruce was taking it to another level. The best Dick could do was follow Bruce around and try to rein him in. It wasn't working.

Maybe he should bring Mar’i to Bruce to see if she could calm him down. If Dick could figure out which of his siblings had his daughter.

“Bruce, can you help me look for Mar’i? It's time to give her lunch.”

Dick grabbed a hold of Bruce and dragged him away from the decorating manager. Bruce had harassed the poor employees long enough.

“Wait, I have to make sure they got the ballroom!”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Bruce, you hired them for a reason; they're the best. Let them do their jobs and help me find my daughter. Besides. I doubt Jason and his family will care if the balloon arc is three inches off center to the right.”

“I don’t know. Jason has always been a stickler for details,” Bruce tried to argue back.

“Not to this extent, Bruce. Chill.”

“Fine. Fine!” He took out his phone, “Maybe I can use this time to see if J’onn and Clark will still come. Oh, Kory is still invited. Make sure she shows up.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose.

Since Bruce learned that Danny liked space and aliens, he had been trying to bribe him with autographs, telescopes, and other space memorabilia. When Bruce found out that Jason was coming to Gotham with Danny, he called in a favor from his teammates to come over to meet Danny. Still, bothering his teammates will make them less inclined to come.

“Give me this,” Dick said as he took the phone out of Bruce’s hands, “Stop harassing people!”

Batman didn’t pout, but Bruce was close to doing so.

“What if Jason calls?”

“Then I’ll answer. Help me find my kid.”

They eventually found Mar’i in the kitchen eating a sandwich.

Alfred didn’t get frantic, but he was close when they entered. He mumbled to himself and checked over the food. All of which were Jason’s favorites.

“C’mon Alfie, not you, too.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Master Dick.”

“Alfie had been freaking out since this morning,” Mar’i said, “It’s funny.”

“Really, Miss Marie, it’s not funny at all to laugh at this old man’s distress.”

“Mar’i,” Dick said, “apologize.”

“Sorry, Alfie.”

“Apology accepted,” he said even as he read a recipe that Dick knew Alfred had memorized. Dick sighed—this family.

“Alfred, Jason is going to love whatever you make him.”

“Hmm, that may be true, but I’m trying to impress more than just Master Jason. After all, I’ve heard his son is a bit of a hard case to get to one’s side.”

Dick said nothing. Alfred wasn’t wrong. Danny could be a bit prickly. Dick still remembered Danny’s glowing green glare and tried to subdue a shudder. He didn’t think it worked.

“I’m sure Danny will love whatever you make, Alfie,” Dick tried to reassure the old butler. Besides, Dick needed Alfred on his side.

A chime made everyone jump. Dick pulled out Bruce’s phone and read the message.

“Their plane has landed.”

____

Jason took a deep breath, taking in the rancid, smoggy Gotham air. The clouds threatened rain.

It was home.

As much as he loved his little haunt, there was just something about Gotham that made him feel welcomed. It was almost like a mother opening her arms and welcoming him back home.

“Ugh, what is that smell,” Jazz asked while holding her nose.

“That’s Gotham,” Jason said proudly.

Ellie held her little hands over her nose while Jazz made retching noises. Jason laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go get that car. I’ll show you around later.”

“Does the rest of Gotham smell this way,” Jazz murmured. Jason ignored her.

They had opted to rent a car instead of allowing Alfred to drive them or use one of Bruce’s cars. It gave them a sense of freedom to know they could get up and leave in their own vehicle if things went south.

Jason hoped it didn’t. He wanted his two families to get along.

They got in their temporary car and took on Gotham’s traffic.

Jason pointed out landmarks and gargoyles he would hide in when he was Robin. He even pointed out his favorite one. He wondered how many times he had hidden by that gargoyle to get away from it all. It knew all of his secrets, fears, and hopes.  

Jazz and Ellie stared at everything with wide eyes while Danny stared out the window. He looked like he was contemplating something, and Jason hoped it wasn’t something bad, like how he would annoy the family…or scare them.

Because of Gotham traffic, it took them a little over an hour to get from the airport to Wayne Manor. They had seen a few accidents along the way. Gotham never changed, which was comforting in a way. Gotham would always be the same, no matter how long he was away.

They reached the manor and stopped in front of the gates decorated with balloons and lights. Jason smiled. He bet Bruce was going crazy trying to make everything perfect for his prodigal son's return.

Jason put in his codes and watched as the gates slowly opened.

Ellie and Jazz stared with huge eyes as they took in the estate and the manor. Danny was glaring at everything with glowing eyes.

“Behave, Danny,” Jason said in a warning tone.

“I’m not doing anything,” Danny retaliated back.

“Cool it with the spooky eyes, baby brother.”

Danny glared one last time. Then his eyes returned to his usual baby blues.

“Thanks, Danny. It means a lot to me,” Jason said.

Danny nodded once and looked out the window, his chin resting on his hand. He looked very unimpressed by the luxury surrounding him. They stopped in front of Wayne Manor, where the whole family stood waiting to greet them. Lights were decorating the doorway even though it was daytime. It was a bit intimidating, if Jason was being honest. After all, he hadn’t met most of them, and now they were standing before him to judge him and his family. He hoped they didn’t find them lacking. Not that his small family wasn’t anything but perfect…Well, for the most part.

Jazz got out first. Jason followed. Jazz took Ellie from her car seat while Jason opened the door for Danny.

“Behave,” he whispered at his son.

Danny rolled his eyes, “They better behave, too. They have only one chance to impress me.”

Jason sighed. Well, that’s the best he could do. Danny was a stubborn boy, after all. It was all up to the Wayne Family now. He wouldn’t help them if they wanted Danny’s trust and love.

Jason took Danny’s hand and went before the family. His palms sweated as he stood in front of them. Jazz stood by him, holding Ellie in her arms.

“Jason, Jazz, Danny, Ellie, welcome to Wayne Manor,” Bruce said. He walked up to Jason and put his arms around Jason. “Welcome back, son.”

Jason soaked in his father’s touch for a few extra seconds before he started squirming to be let go. After all, he was still holding Danny’s hand, and he felt how uncomfortable his son felt. Bruce let go and got down to Danny’s level.

“I have a surprise for you later.”

“Oh, now we’re trying to buy a kid’s love.”

“Danny,” Jason reprimanded sharply, “apologize.”

Bruce laughed, “It’s okay, Jay lad, I’m not offended.”

“He should be,” Danny whispered under his breath. Jason only caught it because of his super hearing. Even Jazz turned and gave Danny a look. His sweet son didn’t look cowed and jutted out his chin. Jason sighed. He’d have to talk to Danny later.

“Come, let’s greet the family.”

Danny dragged his feet as he walked up.

Alfred was the first one to introduce himself. He bowed to Danny.

“Welcome, Master Danny, to Wayne Manor. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne Family’s butler.”

Danny stared blankly at Alfred. Jason nudged Danny. Jason wanted this to go well but knew it was up to them. He could try to facilitate things but nothing else.

Danny sighed, “Hello, Mr. Pennyworth. Dad has talked great about you. I like the recipes you taught him.”

“Please, call me Alfred. I’m glad I could please you even while far away.”

“Heh, okay, Alfred,” Danny chuckled and then turned to look at the rest of the family. Everyone started squirming at Danny’s stare. His eyes weren’t glowing, but his stare was intense. Tim even hid behind Cassandra. Danny smirked at Tim’s actions. Duke Thomas walked up first. His stance was relaxed, and he had on an easy smile.

“Hey, I’m Duke,” the newest member said, shaking Jason and Danny’s hands. “I have powers, too. It’s nice to have more people who know what it’s like.”

“Hey, Duke, I’m Jason; this is my son, Danny, and my sister, Jazz, and niece, Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you! It’s fun to have more niblings!”

“I’m not your nephew, and you’re not my uncle,” Danny said quickly.

Duke’s smile didn’t fall.

“Of course, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I hope you see me as a family member in the future, even if you don’t see me as an uncle.”

Danny said nothing and looked at the rest of the family. Stephanie Brown introduced herself next, followed by Barbara and Cassandra.

“Call me Cass, though.”

“Cass,” Danny repeated as he studied her, “You’ve been touched by death.”

He doubted anyone else noticed; she didn’t flinch or react, really, but Jason knew, he could feel it in his core, that Cass was perturbed when Danny mentioned death.

“Danny, don’t mention death to other people,” he reprimanded his son. It was one thing to talk about death in their small family, but he doubted others would be comfortable talking about that subject.

“Sorry,” Danny said, sounding sincere.

“My name is Damian Al Ghul Wayne, heir to the Cowl and League.”

“Damian,” Bruce hissed at his youngest.

Danny blinked at Damian, “Okay. Nice to meet you, I guess; I’m Danny Nightingale. I’m not an heir to anything, though.”

“Tt, whatever.”

Damian said nothing, and everyone else introduced themselves. The last one to introduce herself was Mar’i.

“Hi, I’m Mar’i. I heard you can fly, too. That’s so cool! Maybe we can race.”

“Cool. I heard your mom is an alien princess. Have you ever been to space? Have you been to your mom’s planet? It’s so cool that you’re half-alien!”

“Yeah, my mom is from Tamaran. I’ve been there once with my parents. It’s nice. Why do you wanna go?”

“Yes,” Danny breathed out, his body vibrating with excitement.

“Before we plan to let you go on extraterrestrial travels, let’s settle here first, yeah, Danny lad?”

Danny walked with Mar’i, asking her questions. The little girl seemed to be enjoying all the attention. Jason and Bruce brought in the luggage, ignoring Alfred’s insistence that he could do it. The old butler wasn’t getting any younger, and Jason could carry his stuff.

Jason gave one last look toward Danny and watched as he listened to whatever Mar’i was telling him with rapt attention. Jason couldn’t help but smile. At least his son was enjoying himself with one family member. It was a start.

“I’ll go put our things in our rooms. Alfie, where are we going to stay?”

“In the family wing, of course. I have prepared rooms for you and put a crib where Miss Jazz will sleep in case she wants the little one with her.”

“Thanks, Alfie.”

“Come on, Danny. I’ll show you where we’re staying.”

Danny seemed reluctant to leave Mar’i behind. His little boy had gotten attached to his cousin quickly.

“Can’t you show me later?”

“I can show you,” Mar’i quickly interrupted, “You can tell me about yourself now.”

“Okay,” Danny said while following the little girl.

“I’m glad Mar’i and Danny are getting along,” Dick said.

“Me too.”

Dick smiled at Jason, “Welcome back, Little Wing, welcome back.

____

Bruce couldn’t help but hover over Jason.

It was a miracle to have his son back in the manor, and Bruce was enjoying it as much as he could. After all, Jason was only here for a finite time. He was also enchanted by Ellie’s sweet, mischievous smile and Danny’s curiosity about all things space. He couldn’t get a good read on Jazz, but Tim’s warning to stay away from her if they didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed by an intelligent and competent person.

He remembered the wary look his children and children adjacent had given at Tim’s words.

Bruce didn’t want to be psychoanalyzed by anyone, but for the sake of his son, he wouldn’t mind having his mind prodded. Jason loved Jazz like a sister, and he doubted Jason wouldn’t notice if people tried to ostracize her. Bruce would lead by example.

Jason had found happiness with his own family, and Bruce couldn’t help but feel pride and joy for his son. He could only hope he would be allowed to be a part of Jason’s family.

“The drawing room is ready. I have prepared refreshments for everyone to enjoy.”

“You’ll join us, Alfie, right,” Jason asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Master Jason.”

Danny stared at the drawing room with disdain while Ellie pointed at all the balloons and decorations.

“I think dad went a bit overboard, huh, Dick?”

Bruce flushed while still feeling a deep sense of joy deep in his heart. Jason called him dad. Bruce tried to keep the tears out of his eyes.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he said instead.

Jason rolled his eyes and turned toward his siblings.

“Let me guess. He harassed the workers in his quest to make things ‘perfect.’”

“Oh, you should’ve seen it, Jay; he couldn’t leave the poor suckers alone. I had to apologize for his behavior.”

“He was trying to find fault with the balloon arch,” Tim added, “What imperfections could balloons even have?”

“They could’ve been different sizes,” Bruce added mulishly, “I had to make sure they were all the right size.”

“How many arcs are there,” Jason asked, “’Cuz I’ve seen five already. Were you planning on inspecting them all, B?”

Bruce crossed his arms and raised his chin stubbornly.

All his children shook their heads, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation.  

“I can show you videos later, Jay,” Barbara, the traitor, said.

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, why don’t we eat? I’m sure everyone is famished.”

“I don’t know, old man, I’m kind of enjoying poking fun at you,” Jason said.

Bruce ignored his miracle child and went for a cucumber sandwich.

Danny went up to the table and inspected everything. He finally decided on a blueberry scone and bit into it, his eyes widening at the taste.

“Daddy, they taste like yours!”

“More like mine taste like Alfred’s. He taught me everything I know about cooking and baking.”

Danny stuffed the rest of the scone into his mouth while looking at Alfred. Danny picked up a cookie and sandwich as he swallowed the scone.

“Danny, you’re going to choke.”

Danny smiled mischievously and stuffed the cookie into his mouth.  

“It’s not like it’ll kill me,” he said with his mouth full, “I’m already half-dead.”

The room got silent; everyone held their breath. Bruce could tell what everyone was thinking: Died? Danny had died? He’s half-dead?

Bruce knew a little about Danny and Jason and how they had gained powers, but he hadn’t told anyone else in the family, trying to protect Jason’s and his family’s privacy. Looking at the horrified looks on his children’s faces (except Tim’s), Bruce couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake in not giving his family a heads-up.

Danny looked around the room. Then his eyes widened in understanding.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that so casually. I’m so used to joking about my death and resurrection in my old life, and within our small family, I forget that not everyone would look at it as a joke.”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, “Let’s not dwell on it and eat.”

Jason walked up to Danny and ruffled his hair. It was only then that Danny seemed to untense. Danny said something to Jason, and Jason smiled at Danny. He whispered something in the little boy’s ears and hugged his son.

Mar’i showed up to talk to Danny, and the two of them scampered off.

“Is he okay,” Bruce asked.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I know death is a taboo subject to most people, but Danny tends to cope with jokes. I do, too, to be honest.”

“I understand. I wish he didn’t have that trauma and had to cope, but we all find different ways.”

Jason nodded.

“So, what’s the surprise? ‘Cuz you already have the manor decked out from top to bottom, and the food is delicious. Don’t tell me you got him a rocket or something,” Bruce could tell Jason was only half joking.

“I’m not that out of touch, Jay lad.”

Jason raised an eyebrow and pointedly looked at the balloon arches and hanging banners.

Bruce sighed. Okay, maybe he went a bit overboard with the decorations.

“I asked Clark, J’onn, and Starfire to come. They’ll be here a little later.”

“Oh, Danny is going to freak. He loves Martian Manhunter. He says he’s his favorite superhero.”

Bruce almost pouted. Why did none of his children or grandchildren say Batman was their favorite? It was always someone else.

“Why’re pouting, old man? No one will say Batman is their favorite because we know you too well.”

Bruce actually pouted before smiling.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jay lad. I missed you.”

Jason tackled Bruce with a hug, “I missed you, too, dad.”

Happy New Year!

[judesmoonbeauty]

𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕁𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟜 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕦𝕞 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕣𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

CW: Brief Assault

Jude: What’re ya doin’. Thought’cha were dead?

Kate: Unfortunately, I’m alive.

Jude: Didja call the fire brigade?

Historical Fact: In 1866, the Metropolitan Fire Brigade was est. in England. In 1904, the London Fire Brigade was est. I changed the direct translation from fire department to brigade in order to make it more historically accurate.

The sound of sirens echoing through the night sky gradually grows louder.

Kate: Yes, because the fire was spreading and could cause damage elsewhere.

Jude: Wow, it’s sickenin’ how ya wasted a chance to run just t’kindly help others.

Jude: So, why’d ya show yerself again?

His fingertips reach out and touch the back of my neck.

Kate: …[Gasp].

Force was applied to my carotid artery, and I let out gasp at the pressure.

Jude: Yer act like a masochistic pervert who wants t’die.

Kate: ……No, I don’t…..I don’t want to die, why would I…..

I defiantly stare back at the bloodied amethyst eyes.

Kate: Sure, what I’m saying might be pointless righteousness and pretty words.

Kate: But you’re a little mistaken.

Jude: Whaddya sayin’?

Kate: I didn’t want to ignore the fire, or runaway away alone like pathetic person.

Kate: I wouldn’t forgive myself for not being able to do anything.

Kate: It’s simply “me” wanting to do it.

Jude: …………

Kate: And -

Kate: It would be frustrating to give in to you.

I vented everything I had on my mind, and then smiled.

Jude: …………

However, the amethyst eyes reflected their usual cold color.

Jude: Lookit this damned cheeky face, so messy.

Jude: …..Hey, do ya really want me t’kill ya?

The chillingly ruthless look in his eyes told me he wasn’t joking.

(But, if I back down here, I lose.)

Like a moment ago, he’ll toss me out from his world, and that’ll be the end of it.

(Then I’ll just sink my teeth in.)

Kate: If you want to do that then be my guest.

Kate: But don’t think you’ll kill me for nothing. Before you kill me I’ll bite your throat out!

Jude: ……..

For the first time, his eyes flickered slightly.

Jude: ….Hah, how stupid. Why should I hafta listen t’some hotheaded resolution.

When he removed his hand from my neck, I sighed in relief and the tension of my life being held in his hands melted.

Kate: Oh, and there’s one more reason why I came back.

Jude: Oh?

Kate: Please, let me treat your wounds.

[Transitions to a bench]

(He let me treat him quite easily….)

Jude sat on the bench listlessly, leaving his injured hand to me.

(But it’s still too soon to be happy. It’s unlikely he’s meeting me halfway…)

Imagining Jude’s mind, I think he just got annoyed with arguing.

(Still, it’s a step forward.)

It’s rather surprising I can be so positive.

(I wonder why, maybe it’s because I got so angry at being tossed out by the neck, but I’ve gotten over it.)

Kate: I’m all done treating this arm, please give me the other one to look over.

Jude: ……Pain in the ass.

"Daru" is used here, and it can denote boring, dull, bothersome etc, but it can also be used to mean "pain in the ass." I opted for that.

As Jude cursed while holding his arm out to me, a book fell behind from where he was hunched over.

It was a book he had apparently tucked in his back pocket —

Kate: ….Jules Verne’s “From The Earth to The Moon.”

Jude picked it up with unexpectedly gentle hands.

Kate: What kind of story is it?

Jude: Just science fiction.

(That’s what he says, but….)

Kate: Jude, somehow science fiction doesn’t match you.

Kate: I’d have thought you’d read something more like economics by Mill or Marx.

John Stuart Mill and Karl Marx were both 19th century economists who shared both similar and opposing economic views.

Jude: Whaddya assumin’ all on yer own.

Kate: It’s not an assumption, it’s a guess.

Kate: A company president with that many employees can’t function without knowledge, right?

Jude: There’s some who arrogantly work others to the bone without any knowledge.

Kate: You don’t seem to be that type of company president.

Jude: This woman’s gotta comeback for everythin’. Never stops chirpin’.

I was about to say, “Jude, you’re the one,” but I resisted.

(If we argue, the conversation will quickly derail….)

Once I calmed down, I glanced down at the book Jude was holding.

The book looked pretty worn, probably from being read so many times.

(Looks like he’s been reading it a lot….)

Kate: Jude, do you like the moon?

Jude: Dunno.

Kate: Well, I like the moon. It lights up the streets at night.

Jude: Didn’t ask, ‘n what’s with that daft reason?

Kate: Maybe it looks that way, but don’t you think so?

Kate: If this world didn’t have a moon, then we wouldn’t be able to see anything in the darkness of night.

Kate: That’s inconvenient and a little lonely.

Jude: ………..

Jude: I hate it.

Jude: Look up ‘n it’s there.

Jude: It’s so stupidly bright, ya can’t forget it even if ya wanna forget it.

Jude: ……Revoltin’.

For some reason, I can’t take my eyes off him as he grumbles —

Jude: Hey, yer wrappin’ the bandages so tight nothin’s gonna heal.

Kate: Oh my gosh! Sorry!

I quickly let go of the hand I had dressed with all my might.

Kate: Oh, and before I forget to tell you.

Kate: Thank you for protecting me from the fire earlier.

Jude: Ha, are ya off yer rocker?

Jude: Grateful for bein’ tossed out, heads gotta be in the clouds.

Kate: It’s fine because that’s what I want to think!

When I spoke up brazenly, Jude shot me a look and narrowed his eyes.

Jude: …..That right. If yer sooo grateful, then I’ll take a reward.

Kate: ….Reward?

Jude: Common sense that if ya do somethin’ for someone, ya should be compensated.

Sensing something approaching, I braced myself.

Jude: Whatcha gonna do for me?

Kate: ….It - it’s something I have to come up with?

Jude: ‘Course.

Jude: Didn’t know the fairytale keeper’s so important you’d leave things t’others.

Kate: I…….

(Still….I was the one who brought up thanking him about the fire.)

Without dismissing this I need to think of a way to express my gratitude with something other than words.

Kate: Uhhh…..I’ll make tea for you every morning from now on, Jude.

Jude: Bein’ forced t’drink some shitty tea everyday. What sorta harassment’s that?

Kate: Hey! ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)

Jude: Rejected. Next.

Kate: W-well then, a massage or something!

Jude: Havin’ yer body fiddled with by an amateur’s just plain torture. Rejected, next.

After that I made all kinds of suggestions, but they were all denied with a scoff.

Kate: Geez, no matter what I say you don’t like it!

Jude: Stop yappin’ it’s loud.

Jude: Should I cover that mouth, ‘n shut’cha up?

Jude’s tone suddenly changes.

(Um….)

Jude: …………

(W-what…..?)

Kate: ….—

(R-really, at this rate our lips will touch…)

I shut my eyes tightly, and all I could hear was my heart pounding like it was about to burst.

But…..

(…..Nothing’s happened?)

“There’s no contact” is the direct translation. Changed this for a better flow.

I quietly lifted one of my eyelids, and there was Jude peering at me in the same position as before.

Jude: PFF…..whadda blockhead gettin’ yer hopes up.

(Wh-what….?)

As I blinked incessantly at the difference between expectations versus reality, Jude laughed loudly.

Jude: Ain’t starved ‘nough to dish out to a birdie who ain’t got no sex appeal, a shame innit?

Kate: WHAT….?!

Heat suddenly rose up my neck.

Kate: I-I don’t want anything from you, so a kiss or two doesn’t matter!

Jude: Really.

Jude:…..Then should we do it?

His seductive smile approaches again.

Although I know he’s teasing me, I falter at his unexpected gaze.

Kate: Jude, that…..?

Gradually the distance between us shortens, and naturally I inch away along the narrow bench until it disappears….

Kate: Kyah…..

Sliding down the bench, I tumbled to the ground clumsily as cold eyes looked down on me.

Jude: Haha….ya really are a princess who never learns.

His smile seemed both pitying and exasperating but……somehow gentle, and for a moment, it made my heart pound.

(This isn’t happening….I’m not nervous…..)

Maybe I’ve gone crazy from this person having fun with teasing me day in and day out.

I’m sure that’s it.

Jude: Ridiculous.

Jude: Lookin’ forward to seein’ ya runnin’ away weepin’.

Kate: I’m NEVER going to run away!

Jude: Ohhhh, not sure ‘bout that but give it yer all.

Even now, I still haven’t found anything to like about this cruel and ruthless man.

(But.)

If I don’t fulfill my promise — I will fall prey to him for breaching the contract.

I sigh at the extremely difficult life ahead, and Jude walks away.

Only the moon hanging in the sky shone upon our contrasting sides equally.

[Main Story Master List] [Chapter 5]

Dividers: @.natimiles Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul

If you wish to be added (+18 YO), or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 27

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

God, if You truly love me, make this woman shut up — I thought, as Scarlet chattered non-stop beside me throughout the entire ride to the hotel.

The headache that had been a mild annoyance was now a relentless hammering inside my skull. As soon as I crossed the threshold, a wave of dizziness nearly knocked me off balance.

"Would you mind leaving me alone?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but Scarlet remained planted on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, her irritation practically radiating from her.

I moved deeper into the room, leaning on the table with my head bowed into my hands, breathing in slow, deliberate gulps to fight off the mounting pressure.

"Where were you last night?" she demanded suddenly.

I glanced at her over my shoulder. Scarlet was a complete mess — disheveled hair, face streaked with dried blood. The crew had offered to help her, but she refused, insisting on sticking with me until I sorted it out.

I tossed a small first-aid kit onto the counter. She caught it mid-air.

"I went out for air," I replied, flatly.

"I was worried about you! We had plans to have dinner together, and you never showed! You didn’t answer your phone, missed soundcheck, and even the guys couldn’t find you. Then you just appear like nothing happened!" She spoke like she was trying to snap me back into reality, but my mind was still far away.

I wished her away, hoping my headache would vanish with her.

"Can you at least help me with this?" She shook the medical supplies at me, breaking my reverie.

"We had dinner plans?" I blinked a few times, my brain slow to piece together her words. There was no memory of the previous night — just a frustrating, empty blur.

"You don’t remember?" Her eyes narrowed with growing concern.

I hesitated, then shook my head. Scarlet exhaled sharply and soaked a cotton ball with antiseptic, her actions brisk and sharp. She gestured for me to come closer. I sat on the edge of the bed, examining the raw scrapes on her face. Her cheekbone was so swollen and bruised that I had to look away to keep from gagging.

Unlike Scarlet, the she-devil had walked out of the dressing room unscathed. The thought made me snort bitterly every time it replayed in my mind.

"What’s funny?" Scarlet’s eyes narrowed.

Only then did I realize the grin tugging at my lips. I wiped it away instantly, pressing the cotton ball harder than necessary onto her wound. She winced, her nose scrunching from the sting.

"Noah, the doctor said your mind is so overloaded it can barely retain recent memories. He said it’s common under extreme stress. Your episodes have been getting worse..." Her hand caught my wrist, stopping my movements. "That’s why you’re so disoriented."

Her touch, though gentle, felt like needles raking my skin. I pulled away abruptly, avoiding her empathetic gaze.

"Just stress. I’ve been working too hard," I muttered, brushing off the discomfort.

"I know you can handle yourself, but the signs are the same as two years ago, Noah... You broke down when you two ended things, and you’ve never been the same since." Her voice softened, a poisonous lull. "She’s dragging you down to keep herself afloat. Look at how much you’ve regressed with the band since she came back into your life. She’s using your dependence on her to blind you..."

My head swirled, thoughts tangled in endless loops. Anger bubbled beneath the confusion. I clenched her wrist hard, pushing her away as my cold gaze locked on hers.

"I don’t care about your opinions or the stories you spin to fuel gossip sites. The only reason I tolerate you is for professional formality. But my memory is perfectly clear when it comes to how you loved to stir up absurd rumors about my relationship back then," I growled, watching her squirm under my grip. "I won’t say it again: mind your own damn business!"

"Look at what she’s done to me, Noah! She’s still the same disaster — uncontrollably wasted, out of control! She hasn’t changed. What do you expect? She’ll never be able to handle you!"

"You couldn’t handle me if you tried..." I shot back with cold, menacing calm. I let her go with a sharp release.

Her eyelid twitched — a crack in her facade of confidence. She rubbed the red mark on her wrist with her free hand, trying to recover her composure, but failing.

"You’re only defending her because you still don’t see the plan, do you?" she pressed, her voice cutting through the air as I stopped just steps from the door.

I stiffened, muscles tight with the effort to keep my composure.

"The sicker and more unstable you become, the further you’ll drift from the band. They already see you as weak, Noah, and she’s no different. When was the last time you contributed anything? When were you strong enough to write even one song? — You think she’s here to help? She’s just waiting for the right moment to call you incompetent. But look at you... clinging to the delusion of reconciliation while she quietly sabotages you at every step."

"ENOUGH!" I roared, my voice booming like thunder, the force of it pounding in my temples until a sharp, agonizing ringing filled my ears, like nails scraping a chalkboard. "ENOUGH! ENOUGH! ENOUGH! ENOUGH!"

"She’s using you!"

Scarlet didn’t back down. Instead, she stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with something cruel and triumphant.

"Isn’t that how it’s always been, Noah?" Her voice was softer now, a venomous whisper. "All she needed was an opening — one chance to corrupt your mind, to drive you insane bit by bit."

She moved closer, her words stabbing deeper.

"Until you were so dependent on her you couldn’t even think without her being your eyes. That’s why she’s still in the band. She knows you can’t go anywhere without her..."

Her tone shifted, mock concern laced with malice.

"But be careful, Noah... Don’t forget when she disappeared and left you to clean up her mess — all alone."

I walked out of the room with heavy steps, feeling the air pressing against me from all sides. The pain in my head was like a fist crushing my skull from the inside out. Everything around me was blurred—walls, lights, sounds—a smear of nothingness.

And then her voice came.

Scarlet.

She wasn’t talking to me anymore. She invaded my thoughts, cutting through them like a razor slicing every attempt at coherence.

“Hasn’t it always been this way, Noah?”

Her words echoed as if carried through a tunnel, distorting, repeating. No matter how much I wanted to push the sound away, it was trapped inside my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to recall the previous night, but only scattered, disjointed flashes came to mind.

And the pain worsened.

My eyes burned. The weight of her words... maybe they were true. Maybe I deserved my own game turning against me after everything I’d done.

I left her alone, didn’t I? I didn’t defend her. I wanted her gone, and she left.

She was right.

I had wanted her out of the band, too, and hadn’t I made that clear enough times?

My insides felt like they were collapsing, as if I were falling inward with nothing solid beneath me. Just emptiness. And her voice.

“To the point where you’ve become so dependent that you can’t even think without her being your eyes.”

My chest tightened. That was it. That was always it.

The hotel corridors stretched endlessly, a shapeless landscape. Everything was white, a blinding light that illuminated nothing. I stumbled, almost fell. I couldn’t see clearly; tears and sweat blurred my vision.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that none of it made sense.

But what if it did? What if it was all my fault?

The pain hit an unbearable peak. My body doubled over, knees giving way, hands pressing against my face as if I could rip out whatever was crushing me.

And then I felt it.

A hand.

Warm. Steady.

On my shoulder.

“You okay, man?” Ruffilo’s voice cut through the haze, a calming force against the storm that made my chest heave with panic. I let go of the hair tangled between my fingers and turned just enough to meet his concerned gaze.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

“NO!” My voice burst out, loud and sharp, as I shoved his arm away. My eyes, wide with terror, mirrored the panic within. “I’m not going back there.”

Breathing more steadily but with trembling hands, I studied Ruffilo again. He looked confused, his eyes scanning not just my face but the air around me, as if trying to piece together a puzzle of invisible shards.

“All right, all right,” he said gently, raising his hands in surrender. “We can go somewhere else...”

“I’d rather be alone. I’m fine.” I straightened up, forcing a steadier tone, though my gaze darted between him and the empty corridor.

“But—” He began, his hand reaching toward my arm like an anchor.

Wary as a cornered cat, I trusted no one—not even my own shadow. Nobody wanted to help, nobody cared what I felt; they just wanted to stay in the loop. I didn’t know what side my friends stood on, didn’t know my own side or why I even needed one. Everything crushed my mind at once, and I wanted to shut it off by slamming it into a wall. I couldn’t take thinking anymore.

“We’ve got a show later, and I just want to focus until then, if you don’t mind.”

“If that’s what you want… fine.” Ruffilo’s voice fell to a resigned whisper before he turned and left me alone.

The moment he disappeared down the hall, I slid down the cold wall, trying to hold back the weight that crushed my chest. Loneliness, no matter how unbearable, felt like the only relief I had left.

A few hours later, I dragged myself to the stage in near silence. My friends joked and buzzed with excitement for another night on tour. I remained still, cold sweat trickling down my back. She stood only steps away from me, and every attempt to make small talk dissolved under the weight of my aloofness.

I didn’t want to believe she could do this to me. But it was hard not to when I looked at myself from outside my own body and couldn’t see who I was anymore.

Tracing the timeline of our story, it wasn’t unfair to think she wanted to destroy me. She could have a plan with Gerard to push me out of the band. He knew my weaknesses well enough to suggest a truce through her.

She could’ve made a trade, and with my declining contributions, he would have agreed. That’s why he betrayed me when selling the singles.

It’s all a setup to betray me.

A sharp pain shot through my temple, forcing a curse between clenched teeth.

“Noah?” Her voice reached out, light and curious, her smile faltering as she noticed my grimace. She touched my arm with the tip of her finger. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I snapped immediately, my suspicion seeping into my tone. I saw her eyebrows lift in surprise, her eyes flickering with concern.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“What the hell’s gotten into you!” I fired back, louder than I intended, taking a step back to create distance. “If you’re trying to stir up a fight to throw me off before the show, you’ve wasted your time. Now leave me alone!”

The words cut like knives, each one slashing into my chest as if I’d carved them out myself.

For a moment, our eyes locked, a silent battleground in the dark sea of hers. She stared at me, stunned, her dark eyes swimming with shock. The contrast between my tone now and the person I’d seemed to be earlier was too stark.

And me? I was furious. Not just with her—mostly with myself. With my inability to think clearly, to find balance.

Before either of us could speak again, the intro began to boom through the speakers, the cue to step onto the stage.

Without another word, I turned toward the blinding lights and the pounding sound, carrying the weight of that exchange like a burden I had no idea how to put down.

Jolly and Ruffilo led the sequence, Folio followed on drums, and I forced my throat to push out the first words of the song.

The sound came out—hoarse, but it came.

For a moment, she carried me when she noticed my voice faltering, like a lifeboat in a stormy sea. I didn’t cling to her or her help, trying to forget the weight on my shoulders, the echo of Scarlet’s words still crawling in my mind. I kept trying to push through, as if it were just another normal day.

But then I looked at the audience.

Hundreds of eyes. Thousands, maybe. All fixed on me. Judging me.

Waiting for me.

My throat closed.

The words vanished.

The guitar riff continued, the drums kept the beat, but I was silent. It was as if the song had disappeared from my mind.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

The people in the front row began exchanging glances. Murmurs arose—low, but every sound seemed amplified, a buzzing that grew in my ears. From the corner of my eye, I saw my partner finish leading the song while interacting with the crowd.

My vision blurred. Sweat poured down my forehead, dripping onto the microphone. I closed my eyes, trying to remember the lyrics, the next note, anything that could pull me out of this abyss.

Nothing.

My mind was empty.

The silence between one beat and the next stretched endlessly. My chest tightened as if I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t afford to fail.

But I already had.

If I were smart, I’d avoid every media outlet in the coming days, knowing full well the headline would be about my second blackout on stage. That’s all I remembered from that moment—forgetting the words to a song I had written and needing my friends to finish the show for me. My phone buzzed nonstop with Gerard’s calls; he was probably having a heart attack over another potential cancellation.

We hadn’t even been back at the hotel long before I was on the street again. I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. A few questions at the front desk and I found a car rental service. It seemed like the only way to clear my head for a while.

A light rain traced patterns down the windshield as I rested my forehead on the steering wheel, trying to control my breathing. Then the slam of a car door jarred me from my thoughts, and an overwhelmingly sweet perfume filled the air.

She flung herself into the passenger seat like an avalanche, her eyes burning with rage.

"Are you going to ignore me now, too?" Her voice sliced through the silence.

I raised my head but couldn’t speak.

"After everything that’s happened, after what that girl did to me, after everything I said this morning, you’re just going to do nothing?" She pressed forward, her words rapid, loaded.

"Get out…" My voice was low, drained. "Please, Scarlet."

"It’s crystal clear to me that you’re letting her get away with this because you’re too spineless to confront her!" she snapped, raising her voice. "But I won’t let her turn me into a punching bag while you make me look like a fool, Noah!"

Pain throbbed behind my eyes. I stared at the rain streaking down the glass, avoiding her gaze.

"Do whatever you want," I said firmly, side-eyeing her, "but I’m going to say it one more time: Get out of the car."

For a moment, she was silent, her eyes locked on mine as if trying to decipher something—or maybe waiting for me to back down. But I wouldn’t.

"You think you can just send me away like that?" she finally said, incredulous, a hint of challenge in her voice.

"Yes, I do." My reply was cold, final. I was past my limit, with no space for games or bargaining.

She let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

Then she pulled something from her pocket—something she had kept hidden until now. A piece of paper, crumpled like an opened envelope. Tension coiled up my spine when I recognized it instantly.

"Then maybe you’d rather I tell her about this." She held the letter out toward me.

My stomach dropped. There was no mistaking that paper. The letter from prison, informing me of Crystal’s whereabouts and her wish to see her daughter. The letter I’d hidden after intercepting it among countless pieces of mail.

"How did you…"

"Does it matter?" she cut me off, her eyes flashing with triumph and fury. "The question is what I’m going to do with it, Noah."

The rain drumming against the windshield was a distant echo in the storm inside my head. Scarlet’s hand trembled slightly as she gripped the letter—a weapon poised to strike.

"Someone’s going to be so upset to learn she’s been lied to about her dear mommy not looking for her. You, the master manipulator, kept it from her all this time…" Her voice dripped with scorn and glee, each word slicing like a blade.

My chest clenched, guilt tangling with the pain already pounding in my skull.

"I did it to protect her!" My voice cracked with desperation, not strong enough to drown out her laugh—louder now, almost deafening.

"And you think she’ll believe that?" she sneered, her eyes glittering with triumph as she watched me unravel.

Something snapped inside me, and my gaze shot to the dashboard. I turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life as I slammed my foot on the gas.

I wasn’t going anywhere in particular—I just needed to move. Pain blazed through my head, making my vision swim. The sound of cars fell behind as I sped past, ignoring every sign and signal.

My chest burned like fire, and I gripped the steering wheel so hard my fingers ached.

"What are you doing, Noah?" Her voice, now tinged with genuine fear, cut through the storm of my thoughts.

"You don’t know when to stop, do you?" I growled through clenched teeth, my voice low, dangerous.

The car hurtled down the road, the speedometer climbing higher. Scarlet clutched her seatbelt, her eyes wide with terror.

“Noah, stop it!” she screamed, her voice losing its arrogance as she gripped the passenger door handle tighter.

“Why should I? Isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted chaos, didn’t you? You wanted to see me lose control?” I shouted back, my own voice blending with the roar of the engine and the patter of rain. “I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

“Noah, for God’s sake, slow down!” Her plea was filled with genuine panic, but I was already beyond hearing. “Stop now! I want to get out!”

The pain in my head was unbearable, a constant pressure threatening to explode, amplified by her words, by the sound of her laughter still echoing in my mind.

“If you want to get out, you’ll have to open the door and jump into the road.” My hands clenched the steering wheel, my knuckles white as I pressed harder on the accelerator. “I don’t understand why you’re panicking. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? We’re together now, darling!”

The empty road was a blur of darkness, lit only by the headlights.

“Noah, stop! You’re going to kill us!” she screamed, her voice now a near-hysterical shriek.

But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.

Then came the crash.

The impact was brutal—an earsplitting sound of metal twisting as the car slammed into the pole ahead. Chaos erupted: shattered glass, the dull thud of the airbag deploying, breath caught in my chest. For a moment, there was silence. Only the faint sound of rain, now mixed with the muffled ringing in my ears. I blinked several times to clear the colored spots clouding my vision until the world came back into focus.

I was motionless, strapped to my seat, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Scarlet lay beside me, her face streaked with blood, unmoving, unconscious.

And for the first time in hours, the silence was worse than the noise.

“Sir?”

Her voice was calm but carried a subtle edge of concern as I sat on the back of the ambulance, my eyes fixed on the frantic movement of people around me. I held a makeshift bandage to my forehead, feeling the relentless throb of pain.

“Can you tell us how the accident happened?”

I lifted my head slowly, meeting the EMT’s steady gaze. Her neatly tied ponytail left her face bare, but her expression was unreadable. My eyes drifted to the other side of the road. Paramedics wrestled with the twisted wreckage, finally freeing the body of the red-haired girl from the driver’s seat. They placed her onto a stretcher with care, but the gesture was cold, clinical.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I turned back to the EMT, realizing she was still waiting for my response.

“She’d been showing signs of instability for days,” I began, my voice hoarse, each word weighed down with regret. “She assaulted my gir… my ex-girlfriend. She was getting more agitated, confused, and constantly threatening me.”

My throat tightened, forcing me to pause as I glanced away.

“Today, she diverted us from the route to a commitment with my band—she works as our photographer,” I continued, my voice thick with emotion. “We started arguing... I got scared when she lost control and started speeding faster and faster.”

The EMT didn’t move, her hands still resting on her hips, her face unchanged. She waited, her patience unwavering.

“Did she have any reason to crash the car into the pole at that speed?” The question was neutral, asked without judgment, but the sound of it twisted my stomach into knots.

“Because she wanted to kill me.”

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline​ ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @do-it-jakey-baby

[thepunkmuppet]

approaching The Confession Scene and what the fuck. this is genuinely tragic like I’ve always seen it as a meme, a joke, an iconic moment in fandom history, whatever, I’m a tumblr user, but now that I’m actually here it’s just fucking SAD

season 15 as a whole is NOT bad. it’s really not. but there’s zero destiel. they rarely speak at all unless it’s plot-related, one (1) episode pairs them together, frankly season seven was ten times more focused on their friendship and that’s INSANE because cas is only in like five fucking episodes of that one. they have a mini arc midway through the season which is very gorgeous and well-done, but it then goes absolutely nowhere and nothing at all is done to make it textually romantic.

by which I mean: no episodes have dean or cas reacting personally to sam and eileen’s relationship, or any other romantic relationship they come across. we’re never shown anything even remotely romantic even in an unrequited sense (no post-realisation awkwardness, no lingering shots of cas pining from afar, etc etc). it reads like a normal season of the show, which, yeah, I think those two are pretty fucking gay regardless, but they’re always textually written as a friendship, with no explicit cues to clue the audience in that there are canon romantic feelings. and that doesn’t change here, at all.

so I guess what I’m saying is the confession scene is purely just a moment of fan service. as stunning as the speech itself is, and as well as it fits cas’s character, the writers throughout the season didn’t actually give a fuck to make destiel ROMANTIC even in a one-sided way. film is a language and as much as misha does in his acting, even from castiel’s perspective they’re still framed as a friendship within the show itself RIGHT up until he says the words I love you. they weren’t interested in actually depicting a (even one-sided) queer love story, just wanted to give fans their “okay here it is we did it guys!” moment at the end, so that way they didn’t have to actually show an explicitly romantic gay love story, they could just say some words, kill cas off and boom it’s canon! here you go people we’ve been leading on, mocking and low-key gaslighting for eleven years!

idk man it’s just so disappointing. I knew it was and I know everyone has been talking about it for years now but my GOD it’s so bad 😭 I can’t even tell you how bizzare it is to have seen destiel confession meme on here and in various fandom video essays EVERY DAY FOR FOUR PLUS YEARS and now here I am, watching it go down in real time with full context, having watched over 300 episodes of this show, invested, obsessed, and REALLY FUCKING UPSET AAAAHHH

EDIT: forgot to mention this originally. the actual concept of cas’s moment of perfect happiness killing him, while kind of stolen from buffy, is AMAZING. and the literal perfect opportunity to have a building textual confirmation of his feelings throughout the season, where he realises what that moment will be, and it ends in the tragic confession of his love. like that’s insane that’s perfect. but no it just comes out of nowhere so oh fucking well whatever I guess! they’re canon so we should all be happy! I hate this stupid bumhole show AUGH no one talk to me ever :(

[mbavholidayexchange]

to: @vampwitchcoven​ from: @rbquartz​

title: i think i love you?! | word count: 4,579 | summary: days before their first big performance at a local festival, benny cooks up a disguised truth potion to see if he can get any juicy gossip and/or a confession of love out of erica (for her sake), but his plan backfires as erica refuses and offers rory the potion instead, and he confesses some love of his own! | AO3 Link

“Heeey Saraaah! Ericaaa! Wait up!”

Sarah chuckles at Erica as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head slightly, the pair pausing their strides to wait for Benny and Ethan to catch up. Benny’s holding a water bottle that’s full of… something , and he’s wearing a mischievous grin – never a good sign – and Ethan seems done with his shit, as usual.

“What’s up, dorks?” Sarah starts, tilting her head and putting her hands on her hips as the two girls turn to face the boys.

“Wanna be a couple o’ guinea pigs for something I'm trying to whip up?” Benny asks, waving the bottle he’s holding in his hand at the pair and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, his expression growing a tad more mischievous. The liquid – a dark bronze-y color that shifts to a more purple hue with certain movements; and just slightly too thick to be a normal drink, but not quite thick enough to resemble a proper smoothie – sloshes in the bottle and shimmers slightly in the fluorescent lights. Erica scrunches her nose, and Sarah can only gawk at it and shake her head.

“Is this another one of your flavor experiments with some extra earth priestess-y ‘ingredients’ you found in your grandma’s broom closet? Because if so, I’m all good, thanks.” Sarah says, holding her hands up in front of her and taking a step back closer to Erica.

“Yeah, plus it looks like you blended up copper wire, chunky glitter, and every purple and brown vegetable that you could find… which, knowing you, is something you’d definitely try and mix up to try and make it taste good.”

Benny splutters, trying to look to Ethan for defensive support. Ethan shrugs noncommittally, tilting his head to the side.

“ Eeehh , I mean they’re kinda right dude. Just the other day you tried to convince me that adding bananas to a quesadilla would taste good, but it was a texture nightmare!”

Benny shakes his head, waving his hand dismissively in Ethan’s direction.

“It may have been a texture nightmare to you , but the savory-sweet greasiness of it all was chef’s kiss! ” Benny emphasizes his point with a dramatic showing of bringing his fingertips to his lips, kissing them, then spreading his fingers outward with a flourish.

Erica and Sarah groan in disgust as Ethan scrunches up his nose and shudders at the memory, and Benny makes another dismissive noise in response, turning away slightly to pout to himself.

“You guys’re just jealous that you don’t have the same distinguished palate that I do! Amateurs, I swear.”

The group snorts and snickers at that, and Benny just rolls his eyes and turns back to the two girls again, holding the bottle up between his hands in a pleading motion.

“Come on , guys, please? Just one little sip? Just as a test! It’s been something I’ve been trying to perfect and I think I’ve finally gotten it!”

Erica scoffs, raising an eyebrow suspiciously and narrowing her eyes at him slightly.

“And why can’t you test it, smart guy? I thought you had a distinguished palate ? You scared it’ll taste gross and want us to suffer the consequences in your place?”

“Besides,” Sarah cuts in, “aren’t you guys gonna be performing with Rory at Whitechapel’s annual music festival thing in a couple of days? This can’t be a good idea, especially if you accidentally somehow give a vampire food poisoning.”

“It’s nothing like that at all! Absolutely no ill intent, I swear!” Benny makes another show of placing his free hand on his heart, “besides, I think the results will be more beneficial to you than they will to me, especially with our gig. Sooo…?”

Erica squints at him, not convinced in the slightest. She glances at Sarah, who mirrors her skeptical expression but simply shrugs. After a few moments of silence, she sighs and stretches her hand out towards him and his concoction.

“If I take it, will you stop bothering us about it?”

Benny nods enthusiastically, planting the bottle firmly in her palm.

“Yup!” He says, popping the p , “ and I’ll leave you alone about any other wonderfully strange flavor combos I've cooked up forrr… two weeks!”

“Make it a month and you’ve got a deal.”

Benny clicks his tongue disappointedly, but nods. Erica nods back, and places the bottle in her bag, and smirks at Sarah, who snickers. Benny’s smile drops immediately and he starts to object, but Erica puts a finger up and wags it in his face.

“Ah-ah-ah, I said I would take it, not try it in front of you. Nice try, smart guy . See ya at our rehearsal!”

“B-But–!”

Before he can say any more, Erica steps around the two boys, beckoning for Sarah to follow. Sarah smiles, waves at the pair, and follows behind her vampire companion. Benny groans quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose as Ethan shakes his head and elbows him hard, as if to say ‘ I told you so’ .

“Whaddya even plan on doing with that anyway if you’re not gonna try it? Trash it?” Sarah inquires as she matches Erica’s stride once more, raising an eyebrow at her. Erica shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly, reaching back into her bag and pulling out the bottle, inspecting it.

“Not sure yet. Might actually give it to the only other person besides Benny who actually enjoys his… experiments . She’s got just as weird of a palate as he does,” Erica states, placing the bottle back in her bag, stashing it for later, “all I know is that we don’t have to deal with Benny’s food disasters for a whole month.” She beams smugly and tilts her chin up confidently. Sarah giggles, nodding in agreement.

“Let’s just go find Rory and see if they wanna take this off our hands.”

“Take what off your hands?”

Sarah and Erica both yelp, spinning around to look at Rory, who simply beams and waves at them.

“Rory !” They exclaim in unison; Erica runs a hand (as gently as she can to not mess up her makeup) down her face, and Sarah just stares at him quizzically.

“Where the heck did you come from??”

“The opposite side of the hallway,” she says, spinning around and pointing towards the direction she came, “I saw you guys coming up this way, so I figured I’d follow up with you guys to see when we can find time to practice for our show!”

“Well, I told Benny that we’d rehearse later, so sometime after school maybe? It’d have to be at Benny’s or Ethan’s too, since he’s got his drum set over there and I doubt he’d want to drag it anywhere else on his own, and we’re definitely not doing it for him,” Erica says matter-of-factly. Rory nods.

“Alright! Ooh! And we can finally vote on what song to do! I have a list, and we can listen to each of them and see what the vibe is.” Rory says, finishing with a slight wave of their hands, before he perks back up again. “Oh, what’d you wanna show me? You said you had something you wanted me to take off your hands?”

Erica nods, reaching back into her bag to pull out the bottle that Benny had given them a few minutes prior, the shimmering liquid inside sloshing around once more with the movement. Rory tilts his head quizzically, not unlike a puppy as they notice the odd liquid’s brown-to-purple tonal shift, and they quirk an eyebrow.

“What is that ?”

“Dunno, but, it’s another one of Benny’s weird flavor experiments, and I know that you can be a fan of those sometimes, and we’re definitely not gonna be trying this anytime soon,” Erica emphasizes her point by jiggling the bottle around a bit, the mystery liquid gurgling ever so slightly with the movement, “You want it?”

Rory makes an ‘o’ shape with their mouth, and takes the bottle from her grasp, flipping the bottle up and down and back and forth, watching the way that the drink inside glistens.

“Wicked. I’ll take it!”

“What songs did we say we were thinking about performing again?” Erica asks, picking at the strings on her guitar absentmindedly, “One of the options is one of the songs Jack Black and his buddy did for a movie or something, right? ‘Tenacious D’ is their group, isn’t it?”

Rory and Benny hum in affirmation, and Erica nods once before continuing, “I still say we should do something by Paramore or like… MCR. Single Tear, even.”

Benny – who’d been tapping away gently at his drum set trying to get the sequence of notes for one of the songs right – pauses to sneer in Erica’s direction.

“Absolutely not. No emo music, we promised!” He says, jabbing one of his drumsticks in her direction.

“I don’t know man, I do a pretty mean Gerard Way impression! I’ve always wanted to recreate his cheerleader outfit that he wore on MCR’s tour,” Rory cuts in, nodding to himself as he makes the ‘okay’ symbol. Erica snaps her fingers a few times in agreement, a quiet applause. Benny rolls his eyes.

“Okay seriously, what other options do we have? We have the Tenacious D song, which I'm pretty sure it’s called ‘I Think I Love You’. Then, we have ‘Flip City’ from the  Ghostbusters 2  soundtrack minus all the other fancy instruments, ‘We Didn’t Start The Fire’, and ‘Stacy’s Mom’. We need to vote  now , our musical careers are at stake!”

Erica rolls her eyes, and Rory nods vigorously.

“Right! My vote is for Tenacious D!” Rory pipes up, throwing his hand up in the air.

“I like your enthusiasm, Rory! I also vote for Tenacious D, on your behalf. Erica, what's your vote?”

“I’m not trying to be the odd one out here, so I guess my vote is also for that one.”

Benny claps once, pumping his fists. “Perfect! Let’s get to practicing!”

After a long while of practicing, Benny throws his drumsticks to the ground, only in mild frustration and just slightly overdramatic, and groans obnoxiously.

“  Okay  , I think that’s enough practice for now. Who’s up for a  Special Benny Snack  break?”

Erica groans, scrunching up her nose and shaking her head, but Rory perks up, picking up their hand and waving it excitedly. Benny grins.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Be right back.” And with that, Benny heads into the house, leaving the two vampires alone. Erica fiddles and plucks at her guitar strings again as Rory plays with the microphone cord, twirling and untwirling it around her fingers. Erica, cool as a cucumber, leans towards Rory, catching their attention ever so slightly. They quirk an eyebrow at her, and she simply smirks right back. Uh oh.

“Sooo… How are things with Ethan?”

Rory splutters, his face flushing as he nearly drops the microphone onto the floor. Erica chortles, wishing that vampires could show up on camera so she could’ve caught his reaction. Rory tries to casually clear his throat but fails, opting to try and lean against the nearby table.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! Things are perfectly fine, and perfectly  friendly . We’re just friends. Just a couple of friendly dudes doing friendly dude things,” Rory pauses, trying to compose themself, before smirking right back at Erica. “I should be asking  you  how things’re going with  Sarah . I see how you look at each other sometimes!”

It’s Erica’s turn to flush and stutter now, and she juts out her bottom lip in a pout and crosses her arms in front of her chest, to which Rory just cackles. Before she can bite back with something smart, Benny re-emerges into the garage, a plate of seemingly innocent sandwiches in his hands.

“Behold, another one of  Benny the Magnificent ’s greatest works!”

He tries to offer a sandwich – which seems to look like a normal grilled cheese sandwich, but upon closer inspection, anyone can see that it is  not just cheese in that sandwich, but peanut butter and possibly a pickle or two – to Erica, who quickly shakes her head, turning Benny and pushing him in Rory’s direction, who happily takes a sandwich from the platter. Benny takes his own as well, putting the extra sandwich to the side, a quiet  ‘suit yourself!’  coming out of his mouth before he takes a huge bite, humming with approval at the taste. Erica tries not to gag, and Rory takes a bite of the sandwich as well, seemingly unfazed. After a few moments of eating in silence, Rory puts the sandwich down, and steeples their fingers in front of them, turning to face Benny, who’s just finishing the last bite of his sandwich.

“Benny, I just gotta say it…”

Benny perks up, awaiting to hear the usual praise coming from his friend.

“These are ass, and if I have to take another bite I think I might vom.”

Benny’s and Erica’s jaws drop in sync as they look at Rory, who also seems surprised at himself for saying that as their hand shoots up to slap over their mouth.

“ What?!  I thought you liked my creations!” Benny cries, throwing his hands up in the air, and Erica’s shocked expression begins to mold itself into a gleeful one.

“I do! I like all of them!” Rory yelps, trying to fix the situation, but the words keep tumbling out of his mouth, and it’s like watching a dam break at last. “Most of them. At least a few of them… okay, maybe just like one or two..?”

Benny gawks as Rory slaps her hands over her mouth again, realizing that talking isn’t going to fix the situation anymore. Erica barks out a laugh, claps, and eventually her laughing fit forces her to double over and clutch her sides. Benny frowns at Erica and shoves her in an effort to get her to knock it off, causing her to stumble a bit as she tries to stay in her seat. Soon enough, the laughter dies down ever so slightly and is reduced to giggles, and Erica sits back up again. Benny glowers at her again, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouts like a little kid, slouching in his seat.

“Can’t believe I thought you were a flavor connoisseur like I was, turns out it was all a lie.” Benny starts, before something clicks in his brain, and he sits up quickly and turns to Erica.

“Erica! That drink I gave you, did you ever try it after we talked??”

Erica, still recovering, shakes her head no, wiping at the tears that had formed in her eyes.

“No, and I never planned on it, dork! I just took it so you’d leave us alone, and gave it to… Rory…” Erica pauses, the cogs in her brain turning as the pair turn to look at Rory, then back at each other, and Erica’s expression grows dangerous with each passing second.

“Benny… what did you put in that drink?”

Benny shrinks in on himself ever so slightly, turning away from her sharp gaze and scratches at the back of his neck.

“I-it uhh, may or may not have been… a truth potion?” He squeaks out, shrugging sheepishly. Erica glares daggers, and Rory pales.

“ What?! ” They say simultaneously, Erica growling it out as Rory yelps again. Benny throws his hands up in front of him, waving them around wildly as he tries to defend himself, both with his words and from a hypothetical barrage from the two vampires sitting in front of him.

“It was a truth potion! I wanted to give it to Erica so she can finally stop being a coward and confess her feelings for Sarah,  or  get some juicy vampire gossip from her, I don’t know! I didn’t plan on it being given to anyone else!”

“Of  course you didn’t, dumbass! You never do!” Erica snaps, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration and getting to her feet, and she begins to pace back and forth. “How long do the effects last? Did you at least figure  that  out, Einstein?”

“Probably a day or so at least? Shouldn’t be longer than that, so it should be no problem, see?” Benny says, trying to fix the situation, but Rory’s still not satisfied.

“A day or so?? What am I supposed to do, spill my guts to half of Whitechapel at the festival tonight? You guys already know I can’t hold water, what makes you think I’ll be okay with a truth potion  and  singing a song about love? I didn’t wanna tell Ethan like this, it had to be special–!”

Before he keeps on yammering, Rory slaps their hands over their mouth once again in an effort to keep the words in, eyes wide. Benny’s eyebrows shoot up, and he blinks a couple times at the vampire. Rory blinks back, and Benny smirks.

“You have a crush on Ethan and didn’t think to tell me your master plan?”

It comes out muffled, but Rory still responds truthfully, to her dismay. “’S not jus’ a crush I fink, def’nit’ly more, but the chances of him liking me back have t’ be slim t’ none.”

Benny snorts and shrugs, a smirk still adorning his face.

“I don’t know man, only one way to find out now!”

To that, Rory pouts, shaking his head and running their hands down their face and then shaking his hands to loosen them up a bit.

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with, I guess.”

 Rory waits in the wings of the stage, looking over the crowd, his stomach twisting in knots. He fidgets with the cord of the microphone in his hands as he catches sight of Ethan and Sarah, lost in their own conversation as they wait for their friends to take the stage finally, the last act of the day. The tech crew is nearly done loading up Benny’s drum set, making sure everything is set up correctly and is all tuned up alongside Erica’s guitar. One of the crew stops by Rory, taking the mic from their hands and tapping it a couple times and mumbling into it to test it, before giving it back with a thumbs up. Rory nods in thanks, and turns back to look out at the crowd. Erica comes to stand just behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder gently.

 “Everything okay?”

 Rory half-shrugs. “Well, you know, just terrified. Not of the crowd, though.”

   Erica nods in understanding, patting their shoulder a couple times comfortingly. After a few moments, they both hear the voice of the stage manager further back in the wing say ‘      five minutes to places    ,’ and turn back to look in their direction, spotting Benny nearby in the process.

 “Thank you, five.” Rory and Erica say simultaneously. Rory takes a deep breath, shaking out his limbs and rocking back and forth slightly to calm their nerves. Erica pats them on the shoulder one more time, squeezing gently, and she walks off to go grab her guitar from the stagehand holding onto it.

 “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Benny chirps, coming up behind Rory and bumping shoulders as he passes, heading to his drum set with drumsticks in hand. Rory takes another deep breath, and makes his way to the front end of the stage. She looks back over her shoulder at Erica and Benny, who both give her an encouraging thumbs up. She smiles, and gives one right back.

   “Let’s rock!”

 They patiently await for their cue, poised and ready, and suddenly the two sides of the curtain roll open, revealing the small band. The crowd – which was a bit larger of a turnout than they expected, but it is a festival after all – cheers, and Rory can’t help but grin at the sight. They throw their free hand up in the air and wave it excitedly, bringing the mic up to their mouth with their other hand.

 “Helloooo Whitechapel!” They start, and the crowd whoops and whistles in response. “My name is Rory, and these are my two friends Erica and Benny. We’ve got something special in store for you today, and we hope you enjoy it. This is ‘I Think I Love You’ by Tenacious D!”

 The crowd cheers once more, and when they quiet down, Rory turns back to his two bandmates, counting them down silently, and then it begins.

 As both of Erica’s and Benny’s solos come to an end and the chorus is ready to begin, Rory takes a chance to step towards the end of the stage, a determined look in his eyes. Ethan watches, quirking an eyebrow as Rory points a finger directly at him, but then it all clicks, and his face flushes. Rory smiles sheepishly, and brings the mic back to his lips.

 “Ethan, I have to tell you something that I’ve been thinking about for a long time, but didn’t have the courage to say before… I think I love you.”

 The crowd cheers loudly and Rory pauses, thinking, before they shut their eyes and shake their head, waving their hand as if to shake off their last statement, and start again, growing more passionate with each word that comes out of their mouth.

  “Y’know what, scratch that, I do love you! But, I’m gonna say ‘I think I love you,’ because I don’t even know if this is love, ‘cause I’ve never felt this feeling before, and I think I might be going insane!”

 The crowd cheers again, and Rory seems to forget where she is for a moment, but she shakes it off and an awkward smile breaks out onto her face. She tries to dance around casually as she searches the crowd again, looking for Ethan, and a full grin replaces the awkward one she had before as she finds him and sees that his expression matches hers – lovestruck.

 “HEY, I think I love you! So what am I so afraid of?!” Rory breaks into song again with added vigor, bouncing around the stage and trying not to get tangled in the microphone cord. Ethan can’t help but watch with adoration, and Sarah grabs him by the shoulders and begins to shake him back and forth, squealing in his ear. Benny fist pumps once, a huge grin on his face, and Erica smirks, both of them feeding off of Rory’s energy and playing with added intensity.

         “Do you think I have a case? Let me ask you to your face,” Rory turns back around, looking for Ethan in the crowd once more, and once she finds him she outstretches her hand towards him, speaking to Ethan directly. Ethan beams.

 “Do you think you love me? I think I love you!”

 “Thank you, Whitechapel! Good night!”

 As the crowd roars and the curtains close, Sarah practically shoves Ethan through the throngs of people, trying to work their way backstage. A few handfuls of people notice the pair and try to move out of their way, but the rest are still buzzing with the excitement of the performance that Rory, Erica, and Benny just gave. Ethan tries to mumble “oops” or  “sorry” to anyone they bump into, but Sarah comes to the rescue and just yells “coming through!” to anyone within earshot, and that seems to work at least somewhat. Eventually, they make their way to the wings of the stage, and push past the curtain, weaving through the tech crew that are working to clean up. Sarah eventually spots Erica near the dressing rooms, and throws up her arms, waving to try and catch her attention.

   “Erica!”

 At the mention of her name, Erica whips her head around, until her eyes land on Sarah. She smiles softly at her, and when she spots Ethan following right behind Sarah, her smile turns into a knowing smirk. Ethan’s face turns bright red, and Erica snickers.

 “Go get ‘em, lover boy!” She quips, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb at one of the dressing rooms. Ethan waves her off, his blush spreading to his ears and neck. He can hear the girls start to giggle and chatter away about something else as he walks to the door that Erica had gestured at, and he stands in front of it awkwardly as he tries to think of something intelligent he could possibly say to Rory instead of just allowing his brain to turn into a bag of bricks. He feels like with the performance alone, Rory had already put the whole thing and the feelings he had into words so perfectly, what else could he possibly add? As he’s standing there lost in thought, the door suddenly flies open and Ethan jumps.

 “Shoot, sorry, my bad, I’ll mov–”

 “Oh! Ethan, hey!”

 Ethan stops, his mouth agape as he realizes he’s now face-to-face with the exact vampire he needed to talk to… completely unprepared to do so.

 “...Rory!”

 Rory beams at him, and Ethan feels like his brain completely short-circuits at the sight.

 “Uhh… I– uhm. You… you did. Good. You did good!” He somehow manages to stutter out, and Rory snickers.

 “Thanks, man. Although, that stuttering was a bit painful to watch,” Rory says, before their eyes widen and they cover their mouth with their hand in horror. “Oh my god, I am      so     sorry. Benny gave Erica this stupid truth potion which she then gave to      me     because      she     didn’t wanna drink it, and of course      I drank it all, and–!”

 Ethan places his hand over the one Rory has shielding their mouth, and chuckles. If vampires could blush, Ethan knows that Rory would be just as red as he is. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at the mention of his best friend’s failed plan.

 “I told Benny that his plan would never work, Erica’s too smart for that,” He says, then his eyes widen as well, and he tries to recover, “N-not to say that you’re not smart or anything, because you are and can be, i-it’s just–”

 Rory giggles, taking Ethan’s hand in both of her own, and Ethan never thought he could do it but he manages to blush darker than before; he has to be radiating heat now, there’s no way he isn’t, but either Rory doesn’t notice or he simply doesn’t say anything, to Ethan’s relief.

 “Hey, it’s okay! You’re good, we’re good,” She says, pausing to look down at their joined hands. She smiles, but furrows her brows a bit, and Ethan tilts his head questioningly.

 “Did… did you like the song? It wasn’t supposed to be a confession-of-love performance, just a regular one, but that’s how it ended up, I guess. Thanks to the dumb truth potion, and a spur-of-the-moment decision I made at our rehearsal yesterday.”

 “I loved it, you guys did great. You did great. I loved watching it. Watching you.”

 Rory beams again, and Ethan grins right back, until he remembers something, and smirks.

 “Oh! To answer your questions from before – I think you do have a case, and I do think I love you.” Ethan adds cleverly. Rory blinks at him a couple times, confused, before it finally clicks and he cackles, pulling Ethan close and wrapping his arms around him, squeezing him in a hug. Ethan squawks at the sudden movement, but recovers quickly, breaking into a fit of giggles and squeezing right back.

 “I love you, Ethan!”

 “I love you, Rory.”

[thebrownestbabe]

Feels like I’m sort of a henchman, do boy, errand helper rn and I just needed to say that.

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[exopelagic]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME BURROWS END WASNT FREE

[arolesbianism]

Finallly got around to properly designing Demonstrator! She’s silly

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

When you might have popped your arm out of its socket a few months ago but you didn’t realize that a partial dislocation was a thing so, since you could move your arm and popped it right back into place, you just thought it was nothing, but now when you lift stuff a certain way or lay on that side in bed or move it a certain way while swimming it does that thing again and you’re like “would seeing a doctor about that make any difference if you probably already healed wrong? Can they even do anything at this point?”

[flippedorbit]

do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?

[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji who doesn’t know why but he feels this weird jealousy everytime he sees you meet your friends and greet them all with a big hug. you never did that with him. you relationship was still fairly new to the both of you, but you kissed you fucked you even held hands sometimes when walking around. but, what toji was now realizing, was that he wanted a hug. well, he wanted a hug from You. not a casual little hug, a hug. holding each other. he didn’t know how to broach the subject without sounding needy and like the complete opposite of how he usually acts. he had never cared about this kinda stuff with other people, he’d never experienced it growing up and he thought he could live without it. until you. until you showed him that wanting to be held was normal. he’d been thinking about it for a while until one night, as the two of you got ready for bed it simply slipped out.

‘how come you don’t hug me?’

immediately you stopped plaiting your hair and turned to him with a shocked look.

‘what?’

‘how come you don’t hug me? like when you see your friends or you say bye you hug them. you don’t hug me.’

as soon as he said it he felt stupid. a grown man like him, older than you and he was sat here asking for a fucking hug. what if you turned the question around and said ‘well you don’t hug me’ what would he say? that i’ve never done that before sorry i don’t know how? his thoughts came to a stop when he felt a small hand grab his own larger one.

‘i- toji im so sorry. i’m sorry i didn’t think that was something you wanted.’

fuck now he’s made you feel bad.

‘nah doll you don’t have to say sorry, its nothing let’s just go to bed’

‘no toji please. let’s talk about it.’

you lifted the blanket and made your way over to his side of the bed so you could sit face to face. everything about you was so soft, so kind. such a complete contrast to himself. he was panicking, he didn’t do stuff like this, never talked about stuff like this.

‘honestly toji, i really just thought you weren’t a touchy person. i’m sorry for just assuming especially considering everything you’ve been through,’

‘no please doll. i wasn’t trying to blame you for anything. i just’

his palms were actually sweating, but your face. god your darling sweet face, looking at him like he hung up the stars in sky. like every word out of his mouth meant the world to you. you would wait for him to get the words out no matter how long he took.

‘i don’t know to be honest. you’re right i’m not a touchy person i’ve never really hugged anyone. but i want that. with you. and im sorry, i should be the one to initiate it i just didn’t really know how doll.’ his voice was so quiet, just a rough whisper.

he looked up to stare into your glassy eyes when you leaned in and kissed him. a small whisper of a kiss.

‘can i hug you?’ you said with your lips pressed against his.

he knew you knew he would prefer not to dwell on it.

and then he wrapped his arms around your back so tightly like he was showing the universe just how bad he needed you. he pulled you into his lap and let his cheek fall to your shoulder. he felt your arms wrap around his neck and you fingers stroking the hairs at his nape.

neither of you spoke, you simply sat and held each other and made a silent promise to maintain the closeness from today onwards.

‘thank you for telling me toji. you big baby.’

‘yeah that’s enough. time for bed.’

your giggle was music to his ears.

[woundedheartwithin]

I think people look at me wearing all black with band tees and sneakers and 14mm tunnels in my ears and think I don’t know shit about horses. And like… I’ve had my gelding for a decade. I’ve ridden him basically everywhere in every situation you can imagine. Yeah, I’m a core kid, but I’m also a certified horse girl, and I have the back problems to prove it lmao

[badbtssmut]

Magic Stick

Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

Admin note: idea by anon

Contains: Big dick JK, handjob, some boobplay, missionary, riding, reader expresses that she is uncertain if it will fit, it takes some time getting it fully in ;), reader whimpers a bit, JK’s ex cheated on him, jk cums a lot

��

“What’s wrong with you?” You glanced over to your best friend, he has been in a horrible mood for a week and no one knew why. Not even your mutual friends knew what was up with Jungkook.

”It’s nothing.” He mumbled in response.

“Come on, I can tell something is bothering you.” You pushed.

"Fine. My girlfriend broke up with me.” He finally cracked.

"Wait, what?” You stood from the dining table, and inched closer to Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa. “Why’d she do that?" You question, shocked by the sudden news. "You two seemed so happy. What happened?"

"She… she was cheating on me.” He confessed.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What a bitch." You really couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Don’t blame her, I guess.” Jungkook said and shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't be silly. You’re too forgiving." You sighed.

"It's not that. The sex, my size— it just never worked out in bed. It was never a good fit." Jungkook confessed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"So, you're saying, she dumped you ‘cause of your dick size? The fuck? That's just shallow. Why would she do that?" You sat next to him.

"Yeah, it didn’t fit, literally. I’d hurt her, it wasn’t going to work out from the start. We tried a few times, but the whole experience was just awful. I guess she couldn't stand it anymore." He said, defeated.

“That doesn't make any sense, surely you aren’t that big? Are you sure she’s not just making excuses?” You couldn’t believe his ex would end things with him over his size.

"No, I am that big." Jungkook replied.

"Really?" You were skeptical.

"I've always had a big dick." He added.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me." You repeated. “I just want to know if you’re bullshitting or not.”

"No." He declined, looking at you as if you said the most ridiculous thing ever, clearly embarrassed by your request.

"Oh, come oooon, we are best friends. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dick before in my life." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, I promise. Just let me see."

"Fine." Jungkook sighed. "But… I’m not hard now.” He muttered.

“Will my boobs make you hard?“

“Hell yeah. You got great tits." He said, a bit too enthusiastic, as if he had been dreaming of the day you’d offer your tits in return to see his cock. You stood right in front of him, loosening the straps of your halter top. His mouth was slightly open, as he looked at you, completely mesmerized. You removed the straps from your shoulders and let the shirt fall to your tummy, revealing your breasts.

"Like what you see?" You teased.

"Yeah. Very much." He was nearly drooling at the sight.

"Want to touch them?"

"Fuck, yeah." He nodded, eager. You stepped closer and his hands were instantly on you. Squeezing your breasts, rubbing his thumbs on your nipples, taking it all in. When he was done caressing your tits with his hands, he started to suck and lick on them, at which you moaned softly, and the sound of it made him rock hard. He was definitely huge, you could see the tent forming on his pants.

"Are you sure you want to see it? It's… quite big." He was almost apologetic, as if his huge dick was some sort of inconvenience for others.

“I do, show me already.” You chuckled, not sure what he was being shy for.

"Okay." He nodded, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his jeans, together with his boxers.

Holy shit.

How was a dick that big even possible? You didn't even think that dicks like that actually existed. And it wasn't just long, but also thick. No wonder his ex broke up with him. You were pretty sure that dick wouldn't fit anywhere.

"Wow." You couldn't believe your eyes.

"Told you. It's big. You wouldn’t believe me." He shrugged.

"Can I touch it?" You asked, still unable to avert your eyes.

"If you want." He agreed, a little surprised but not put off by the idea.

You grabbed his dick and slowly moved your hand up and down his length, marveling at how big and heavy it was, how thick. His cock was truly impressive, and it seemed to get even bigger as you stroked him. You wondered what it would be like to take him.

“Wow. This is amazing. How can you fit this inside a girl?" You were truly impressed, and couldn't help but keep stroking his cock.

"I can't." He admitted, his breathing starting to quicken. “No girl can take it, they always start out confident but when it’s actually in… they can't take it. Not even halfway through. I have never met a girl that can take me all the way, even the ones that brag about having experience are not able to." He sounded dejected.

"I bet I can." You challenged him.

"No. You can't. There's no way." He scoffed. All of the girls said the exact same thing, and it never worked out, ever.

“Want to bet? If I can’t take it, I’ll give you 200 bucks.” You said, not convinced by his pessimism.

"200 dollars? That's a lot of money." He said, surprised by your proposal, but he shrugged. “But alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“If you ask me one more time… I will leave." You said, annoyed.

"Sorry. Just don’t want to hurt you." He apologized with a defeated sigh. It made you feel bad for getting annoyed, but Jungkook really had nothing to worry about.

You got this.

Jungkook held onto his cock as he pushed the head of it against your slick pussy lips. Your body tensed a bit, but he took his time, working on you slowly. You breathed deeply and relaxed, spreading your legs further as his shaft dragged against your sensitive skin. His cock was so hard and thick that it rubbed against every single inch of your folds.

Jungkook continued to move his hips back and forth, his errection dragging against your clit with each thrust. The sensation was amazing, and your body was trembling in pleasure, and he wasn’t even in yet.

The tip poked against your lower belly as he continued to rub the shaft against your pussy, his hips moving slow and steady.

“Want it.” You whined.

“Yeah?” He whispered.

"Yeah."

He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing the head against it. You tilted your head back, fuck, that was only the head, how could you feel this full already?

Jungkook began to slide his cock into your wet, aching pussy. His cock was stretching you out so wide, it felt incredible. He stopped when the head was all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. Jungkook slowly pushed his cock deeper inside you, inch by inch. You could feel his cock filling up every inch of you, the stretch and pressure so intense, it was almost too much.

"Shit, you’re stretching me so good…” You moaned, as his cock kept going deeper.

"How are you taking it so well? I can't believe you can take it this far, pussy takes big cock so good, baby." He pushed in more, eager to fill you with every inch.

You couldn't speak, the sensations were overwhelming. It felt like your pussy was being stretched to its limits, and there was a pressure deep inside you that made your mind go blank.

Jungkook's cock was buried all the way inside you now. You were filled up completely, and it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced.

"Don’t move,” It felt as if he would rip you in two if he pulled out even a little bit. "Not yet. Give me a minute." You whimpered, as you adjusted to his length and girth.

Jungkook nodded, kissing your neck, his hands cupping your breasts.

“This is how pussy feels, huh? Fuck, this is amazing. So tight, warm, perfect." He whispered against your ear, as he kept his dick deep inside. “It’s like my cock is being choked and squeezed, so good.”

“Told you… I could take it.” You said in a shaky breath, sitting up only to peek at where your bodies were joined, impressed to see how your body managed to take that monster cock in.

“You can move now." You gave him permission.

Jungkook started to move his hips back and forth.

The pressure from his dick was too intense, it felt like you were being split open, and you thought you were going to pass out from how good it felt. You held in your breath, unable to moan as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching you wide.

Whereas you were silent, Jungkook was grunting, groaning, panting, moaning, he couldn’t contain his pleasure. Jungkook was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried deep inside you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock pushing against your inner walls, massaging them.

You opened your eyes and glanced at his face, he looked like he was in ecstasy, his mouth was open and he was moaning with every thrust.

His cock felt incredible, so big, so deep.

You had never felt anything like it before.

"I can't believe I'm fucking a pussy that can take my whole cock. Shit, it feels amazing. Pussy is so tight and wet. So fucking good. Never felt anything like it. Fuck!” Jungkook licked his bottom lip, picking up the pace.

Jungkook was pounding you now, his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, hitting all the right spots. Fuck, you were seeing stars, your whole body was on fire.

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. You spread your legs as far as you possible could, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. Jungkook continued his relentless rhythm, his thrusts were hard and fast, the sounds of his cock slamming into your pussy filled the room.

The feeling of his dick filling you up was indescribable, it was pure bliss.

“Want to ride you, want to sit on that cock." You needed to feel in control, and you wanted him to watch you as you sat on his massive dick.

Jungkook pulled out and laid down on the bed, his dick standing straight up, and you couldn’t wait to take it all again.

You straddled his hips, hovering above his erection and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, gasping as it slid into you, the pressure and friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Jungkook's hands were on your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock. He was thrusting his hips upward, matching your rhythm, driving his dick even deeper into you.

"God, you look so hot riding my cock. Never would’ve thought to see this.” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body.

"So big…” All you could think of was how his cock felt inside of you, how shallow it might sound… you couldn’t even think of the person attached to it.

Jungkook was now holding onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto his dick. His thrusts were strong, and fast, and it felt so fucking good.

"Fuck, I can't last any longer. Gonna cum soon." His thrusts became erratic and he was moaning loudly, his whole body shaking. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him, trying to match his rhythm.

"Y/N… like that, love it just like that." He moaned, his breathing unsteady, his fingers now gripping into your thighs.

“Yes, yes…” You whispered, riding his cock, feeling your own orgasm build up inside of you.

“Ah!” Jungkook beat you to it, his body stiffened as his cum spurted inside of you, filling you up. He was gasping for air, his face was flushed, and his grip on your hips loosened, he ran his fingers through his hair as he squirted his cum deep inside of you. It was as if he had a never ending supply of cum, shooting spurt after spurt, his cock throbbing as it emptied its load inside you.

“Keep going, y/n, you didn’t come yet, I’ll stay hard, take what you need, keep going." He encouraged, his breathing still shaky, his dick was still hard, and it was pulsating inside you.

"Yeah." You whispered, continuing to bounce on his dick, the feeling of his cum inside of you and the sight of him beneath you, sweaty, breathing hard, his hair sticking to his forehead, was so incredibly sexy. The sound of your drenched in cum pussy sucking him back in was loud, his cock coated in your juices and the cum that was spilling out of you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs as you moved up and down, faster, deeper, until you were finally climaxing, your orgasm taking over your body. Your body shook and your eyes fluttered open and shut as the warmth spread through your whole body, you had never felt anything like it before. You could feel the hot cum leaking out of you, and it just kept coming.

Your hips slowed as you rode out your orgasm, and when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, panting.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“You owe me 200 bucks.”