#drunk fluff

pairing: Kim Taehyung x female!reader

warnings: secret hook up, friends to lovers, alcohol, drunk kiss, drunk make out, +18 content

disclaimer: please dont do any fan wars here :( I am a multi stan and EVERY group is special and there is no "Those are the best" or "Those are kings" etc, everyone has different opinions and taste so please stay kind to each other!

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This fic is for my best friend who was teasing me this morning so I'm taking revenge now by destroying her with her ultimate bias and the ultimate hook up heheheh @infinityprotectress

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The air in the ballroom was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, floral arrangements, and the crisp, bubbly sting of vintage champagne. It was the kind of atmosphere that usually felt suffocating, but tonight, it was electric. Arirang had dropped only six hours ago, and the world was already vibrating with the impact.

You leaned against a marble pillar for a moment, catching your breath. Your heels were starting to pinch, a fair price to pay for the hours you’d spent on the dance floor with Namjoon and Jimin, screaming the lyrics to "DNA" as if it were 2017 all over again. Watching them tonight felt different. It wasn't just another comeback; it was the return of the kings. They had all finished their military service, their hair had grown back into stylish, experimental cuts, and their shoulders seemed broader, carrying the weight of their legacy with a new kind of ease.

As the DJ transitioned into a remix of "Boy With Luv," the crowd surged. You loved them, you really did, but you needed a moment of silence—or at least, a moment where you didn't have to dodge flying elbows.

💙 - Breddie 🙃

Another one for you my dear @typicalopposite, Brian and Eddie drunk kiss

It's set in the Blessings and Sins universe, but you don't have to be familiar to follow what's going on. All you have to know is that Brian left the priesthood to be with Eddie.

Father Brian/Eddie Diaz | Rated T | 946 words

Also available on AO3

Eddie sat on his couch, his ancient laptop a little too warm on his lap while he planned out his fantasy football lineup for the week, when he heard a muffled thump against the front door.

Maybe it was a package being delivered and someone had just sort of tossed it at his front door. It was kind of late for a delivery though.

He heard another soft thump and he turned to look in that direction.

Curious, he shut his laptop and set it on the coffee table then went to the front door. He pulled it open and Brian stumbled in. He would have completely faceplanted on the floor except Eddie caught him at the last minute and kept him upright.

“Brian, are you alright? Why didn’t you use your key?”

Brian leaned against Eddie and smiled widely at him. “I forgot it at my apartment,” he slurred, the scent of alcohol strong on his breath. “An’ you said I could come over after D&D.”

“I did say that,” Eddie said with amusement. “I didn’t realize you drank this much at your D&D nights.”

“It was Coop’s birthday an’ so we had some drinks,” Brian said.

“Alright, well, let’s sit you down and I’ll get you a glass of water,” Eddie said, steering them toward the couch.

Brian giggled to himself and started kissing Eddie’s neck while they walked, stumbling over his own feet. 

Eddie had seen Brian buzzed before, a little giggly, but never this drunk.

“Focus, sweetheart,” Eddie said patiently, managing to get them around to the couch and deposited Brian onto it.

“C’mere, Eddie,” Brian said, reaching out for him. “I need a kiss, please.”

Well, he did say please. And he was very irresistible with his glowing pink cheeks, dopey smile, and shining hazel eyes. 

Eddie bent down to give Brian a quick kiss, but Brian grabbed onto him and pulled Eddie down into his lap.

“Jesus…” Eddie exclaimed.

“Don’t bring him into it,” Brian said with a furrowed brow, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist. “It’s just you and me now.”

“Yes it is,” Eddie said, combing his fingers through Brian’s soft, blonde hair. 

Brian leaned in and kissed the base of Eddie’s throat. “Chris isn’t here, right?”

“No, he’s at his friend’s house for a sleepover.”

“So we can have sex on the couch?” Brian grinned, sliding his hand up Eddie’s thigh, beneath his basketball shorts.

Eddie chuckled, patiently stopping Brian’s hand. “After you drink some water.”

Brian’s lower lip curved out into the cutest pout Eddie had ever seen.

“I didn’t say no,” Eddie assured him, then got up off his lap and went into the kitchen. 

He was just filling a glass from the Brita pitcher he kept in the fridge when he heard footsteps that were not remotely discreet. He kept focused on his task, though, while Brian came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“You were taking too long” Brian said, pressing his cheek against the back of Eddie’s neck affectionately. “I missed you.”

Eddie smiled, admittedly enjoying this overly affectionate drunk version of his boyfriend. Not that Brian wasn’t affectionate sober, but this uninhibited version of him was sweet. 

Eddie peeled Brian’s arms off him so he could turn around to face him, then held out the water glass. 

Brian took the glass with a huff and took a few gulps. He set the glass down, then wiped his lips on the arm of his sleeve. “Happy?”

“Very.”

“Good,” Brian stepped forward and slipped his hands underneath Eddie’s tee shirt. His fingertips grazed over Eddie’s stomach. “Let’s make out.”

Eddie laughed, but didn’t argue, accepting a sloppy and enthusiastic kiss. Brian pushed Eddie back until he bumped against the counter. 

“I want you to put a baby in me,” Brian said breathlessly.

Eddie chuckled. “Doesn’t quite work that way, babe, but I can try.”

Brian gave him a confused and borderline sad look. “What do you mean it doesn’t work?”

“You don’t have the right equipment, sweetheart," Eddie said gently. 

Brian let out a resigned sigh, then held onto Eddie’s waist. “Imagine though, a cute little baby with your eyes and my nose.”

“You have a great nose,” Eddie said, pressing a kiss to it to punctuate the statement. That drew an adorable smile out of Brian.

“My lips are great too,” Brian said, puckering up and angling for a kiss. 

Eddie obliged and gave him a kiss that Brian sank right into, leaning into Eddie. 

They kissed and kissed until the kisses became slower and Brian pulled back to yawn. 

“Alright, let’s go to bed,” Eddie said, gently herding him in that direction. 

“But…couch sex.” Brian whined. 

“You know,” Eddie said, pushing Brian down to sit at the foot of the bed. “If you’d just move in we’d have even more opportunities for couch sex.”

“That’s true…” Brian said, obediently lifting his arms and legs when told while Eddie got him changed into a tee shirt and a pair of pajama pants. 

Eddie got Brian into bed and convinced him to drink half of a Gatorade before they sank down beneath the covers. They lay on their sides facing each other and Eddie pressed his hand against Brian’s cheek.

“I do want to have a baby though,” Brian said, seriousness breaking through the drunken haze in his eyes. “Someday.”

“Someday,” Eddie echoed.

“Mmm,” Brian hummed, his eyes falling closed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Eddie said. He watched Brian drift off to sleep, hoping his hangover wouldn’t be too brutal in the morning, but fully prepared to take care of him if it was.  

****

Basically, Poppy ends up babysitting two drunk 200 year olds. This takes place after the War of two queens and everything is peaceful. Well, as peaceful as things can get.

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A03 link here

Poppy was surely regretting not taking up on Vonetta’s offer of going out to the fair by the beach. Instead, here she was, contemplating throwing her husband and his former bonded off the bridge so that she can stop being embarrassed by their drunken antics.

It all started when, earlier during lunch, Poppy asked her friends what they would all like to do for the rest of their day as she and Casteel finally were done with their meeting and appointments for that day (boring royal stuff, as Kieran liked to call them.) There was a debate on whether they should all go to the fair near the beach or have a quiet evening in a nice restaurant near the bridge. After a lot of polite discussion (anything but) , it was decided that Emil and Vonetta would go to the beach and Poppy, Casteel, Kieran and Delano would go to the restaurant. 

I5+Inukag Drunk fluff @littlepumkinseed request Short domestic family fluff 🙃

Inuyasha looked up from a knock at the front door. It was close to midnight, so it must be his wife. He smiled down at the bundle of joy burbling in his arms with a chuckle. “I think momma forgot her keys.”

He stood up from the couch and opened the door to find Sanyo standing there holding up a red-faced Kagome swaying on her feet. It was rare to see his wife this drunk, but amusing.

“Sorry Inuyasha,” Sanyo was half-laughing as she did her best to hold up her friend. “She had a little too much to drink at Ayame’s bachelorette party.”

That only made him laugh too, along with baby Moroha copying her fathers noises. “How about we switch,” he asked Sango as he grabbed hold of his wife’s other arm.

“Good idea.”

Once Inuyasha has much of Kagome’s weight handled, Sango let go and took Moroha into her arms, freeing him to switch positions and sweep his wife into a bridal carry. Sango quietly closed the front door, and followed behind as Inuyasha carried Kagome towards the bedroom.

“I’m taking you to bed love,” Inuyasha spoke softly to his semi-conscience wife. But that caused her to start fidgeting and fighting him.

“Put me down! How dare you take advantage,” the woman slurred. “I’m a happily married woman!”

“Are ya now?” He chuckled. Inuyasha can even hear Sango behind him laughing too. “He must be a lucky guy.”

“Oh, he so is...” Kagome’s hands spoke with her. “I’m an awesome wife.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m lucky too— so, so, so, so... lucky...” her voice trailed off. “Wow,” she stared at Inuyasha’s face as if trying to focus. “You guys look a lot like him.”

At this point, they’d reached the room and Inuyasha was trying his damndest to keep from laughing. “Really?” He placed Kagome gently onto her back on the bed, removed her shoes, then shifted the blankets to cover her. “Lucky me then.”

“Pfft. Lucky?!” She pushed him and almost fell out of bed. Luckily, Inuyasha caught her, and moved her deeper onto the mattress. Of course, it didn’t deter her muddied train of thought. “That don’t mean you’re getting lucky with me buddy! Inuyasha?!” She called out, her arms flopping around. “Inuyasha?! You just wait! My husband will kick your ass!”

That was it, Inuyasha couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. “Inuyasha!” He called out his own name. Wait here, I’ll go get him for you.”

“Y-Yeah— you better... d-don’t say I didn’t warn ya!”

“Okay, you just wait here.” Inuyasha laughed again and left Kagome to fall asleep.

He walked out of the room, partially closing the door to find Sango who’d retreated back to the living room. She handed a now fast asleep Moroha back to him. Figures, the seasoned mother of three worked wonders on babies.

“I should have been keeping an eye on her,” Sango remarked.

“Why? It looked like she enjoyed herself. Kagome hasn’t had much time to relax since Moro was born, so she needed this.”

“True,” Sango chuckled. “It was all going fine, until someone mentioned your name and then she started getting emotional.”

“Bad emotional?”

“Oh, no, she just couldn’t stop talking about how happy she was, and how Ayame’s gonna be just like the rest of us married people. And oh, we’re so lucky. But mostly just repeating herself because by then she was pretty drunk.”

“That must have been a sight to see.” He laughed.

“It was,” she chuckled again. “Anyway, I better get home too. Good night, Inuyasha.”

“Good night, Sango.”

Inuyasha smiled as he closed the door. It felt good to hear how happy his wife was truly was, and how much she really loved him. There wasn’t anything in the world he wouldn’t do to make her happy. Kagome was the light of his life, well, her and Moroha. Their beautiful daughter was the culmination of their love, and he loved how much she was starting to look like her mother. But having a newborn was a stressful time, so taking a break was needed at times.

After putting his daughter to bed, Inuyasha slipped quietly into the master bedroom. He could hear Kagome’s soft breathing letting him know she was fast asleep. So, he shed his shirt and slipped in beside her, pulling her into his arms. She sighed and mumbled something incoherent, before snuggling against his chest. The woman was sure to have a headache in the morning, but it would be worth the fun girls night out she’d had. He kissed her forehead, and closed his eyes with content. Lucky guy?

Well, here it is. My first ever fanfic inspired by a novel-verse. I’ve never written anything for novels before, but the world of Carry On just BEGS for it. So, I wrote some fluffy sap. And I want to dedicate it to the amazing @thatkanragirl because she is one of the reasons I even read this book. THANK YOU!

               Baz’s nostrils flared as he eyed the sorry lump of a man occupying the seat next to him on the couch. Surely there were better uses of his time—their time—than this? Well of course there was, but he wasn’t about to pass up this chance, either.

               Though, of course, when he agreed to be the man-lump’s drinking companion, he hadn’t expected this.

               This was supposed to be a fun, drunken grope-fest. This, however, had fallen into some morose pity-party. (For Snow only. Baz was actually content with his life at the moment. As content as a vampire could be, anyway.)

               Some days, despite the magickal shrink he spoke with, his curly-haired man-lump got rather down on himself about his drained magic. Baz didn’t blame him, even felt sorry for him. Said as much, in fact. Once, sincerely. But only once. Now he just teases him about it, because who would he—Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch—be, if not the eternal tormentor of Simon Snow?

               At this point, Baz wasn’t even sure what Simon was carrying on about. Whatever topic was spilling forth from those pouting lips also required too much gesturing. Dangerous when one hand very loosely gripped a glass of whiskey. (Why Simon chose whiskey of all things, Baz was entirely unsure,) The liquid inside sloshed, a few drops splashing onto Simon’s fingers and sliding down to his wrist.

               Baz licked his lips. He could shut Snow up by grabbing his wrist and licking away the spilled alcohol. Merlin knew he needed to do something. This was becoming pure torture. Not just the babbling, but the shedding of clothing. Occasionally, Snow would pause in his complaining to add a complaint about being too hot. Then an article of clothing would vanish from his body. (Not magickally, of course. Just thrown aside to be found later.) Now Simon was down to his underwear—a ratty pair of grey boxers—and leaning heavily on Baz.

               Pure torture.

               Snow growled low in his throat, in that way he did when things weren’t going his way. Quirking a brow, Baz eyed the man out of the corner of his vision. What a mess he was. An adorable, amazing, drop-dead gorgeous mess. Curly bronze hair falling limply across his forehead, skin flushed from drink, blue eyes half-lidded, freckles and moles begging to be kissed and licked.

               More than once Baz fought the urge to bite at his skin. Wouldn’t do to turn him, would it? (He had offered to do that once as well. Jokingly, of course.) He feared he may injure Snow at the best of times already.

               As his mind wandered to all the things he wanted to be doing right now, he felt wetness seep into his tee-shirt. Snow sloshed his drink again, spilling some on Baz’s shirt.

               “Watch what you’re doing, you drunk,” Baz scolded, narrowing his eyes.

               Snow lifted his head, eyes obscured by hair long overdue for a trim. He sagged against Baz’s arm and appeared to be fighting with himself not to lean in and nuzzle his neck.

               Simon Snow was a melancholy, affectionate drunk. Who would have thought?

               “’M sorry I’m so useless.”

               The annoyance Baz felt about his ruined shirt instantly drained away at those words. He took Snow’s glass, setting it on the coffee table and turning toward the man in the same smooth motion.

               “Take those words back, Snow.”

               Simon’s brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed in the most obnoxiously adorable, foggy manner. (How on Earth could something so cute annoy Baz so much?)

               “Why’re you s’mad?” Simon slurred, slumping against the back of the couch. Eyeing his confiscated drink, his lips turned down in an exaggerated pout.

               Rolling his eyes, Baz took Simon’s hand and linked their fingers together. “Take those words back now, Snow.”

               “Or what? You’ll Eat your words at me?” Crossing his arms, Simon huffed.

               “Oh, come off it Snow.” It was Baz’s turn to huff. Indignant though it may be, he huffed more than he cared to admit around Simon. Sometimes it was out of anger or irritation, but more of than not, out of embarrassment. (He’d be dead—well, properly dead—and buried before he even thought about admitting that.)

               Dropping his hands into his lap, Simon’s fingers curled into fists. Clenching his teeth, he finally lifted his head and looked directly into Baz’s eyes. Sharp. Grey with flecks of blue. Full of love. Concern. Why?

               “I am, though. Useless, I mean. Can’t even leave the flat without you or Penny helpin’ me.” There was no heat in Simon’s voice, just flat defeat.

               Grumbling, Baz raked a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. “We aren’t helping you, we’re helping everyone avoid wetting their knickers at the sight of you.”

               “Do you think I asked for this?” Simon demanded, sitting up straight, swaying a little.

               “From what you told me, yes.”

               Simon wanted to smack the blank sarcasm off the man. “That’s not what I meant, you dunce.”

               Baz quirked one dark brow.

               “Stop looking at me like that with your horrible gorgeous face.”

               The corner of Baz’ mouth curled with amusement.

               “I swear to Merlin, Baz!”

               “Swear what, Snow? That you aren’t useless? That you never were, and never will be useless? That you are, in fact, immensely useful?” Baz leaned in, blinking softly and tracing an endless, random pattern on Simon’s chest by sliding his finger from one freckle to the next.

               Simon puffed out a breath caught halfway between a scoff and a giggle. “All I’m useful for is helping you get your rocks off.”

               Baz grinned, rising from the couch briefly to swing one leg over Simon’s hips to settle in his lap. He curled his arms around his shoulders and peered down into attentive eyes.

               “As far as causes go, I say that is a noble one.” Bending down, he stole a boozy kiss from Simon.

               Sliding his hands around Baz’ waist, Simon sighed. “Be as cute as you want, but it won’t change my mind.”

               Baz chuckled, low and husky in his throat. “I’m sure I can come up with a convincing argument.”

               Licking his lips, Simon’s skin itched with heat. There was no way he was blushing. It had to be the alcohol.

               “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m magickless,” Simon muttered, pressing his forehead to Baz’s chest.

               “And why might that be?”

               “Because when I go off, I don’t actually want to go off.”

               A surprised snort erupted from Baz. “Sweet Crowley!” Hugging Simon’s head, he laughed out loud. “You drunken halfwit.”

               “But I’m your drunken halfwit.”

               “That you are,” Baz sighed, lips curved in an astonished yet affectionately sarcastic smirk. “Perhaps I’ll sober you up a bit before this goes any further.” Arching backward, Baz scooped his wand off the table and pointed it toward the cheap coffee maker on the kitchen counter. “Wake up and smell the coffee!”

               When Baz turned back to Simon, the man was watching him with a slightly unfocused gaze.

               “You look like you have something to say, Snow.”

               “I spilled on your shirt.”

               “I may forgive you if you wash it for me.”

               “Gotta take it off, first.”

               Baz smirked knowingly at Simon.

               As the coffee pot perked and gurgled in the background, Baz’s clothes joined Simon’s in various corners of the room.

               This was back on track and Baz was more than happy to participate in the drunken grope-fest. Of course, he would never admit he had been looking forward to it all day. If Simon Snow knew just how much Baz needed him, he feared he may not be treated to days like this anymore.

Lukas is walking on sunshine. Wine sunshine, and Philip sunshine, and both combined is the brightest most incredible room he’s ever been in. They’re past the point of no return but they corked the bottle and it’s in the fridge and it’s fine. He feels fine. Philip looks fine.

 They’re sitting Indian-style in front of each other on the ground in the living room and Lukas can’t stop touching Philip’s face.

 “You’re like…cut from marble,” Lukas says, brushing his thumb over Philip’s cheekbone. Philip beams, leaning into his hands, and Lukas stares hard at him. “This is ridiculous. You are—you are ridiculous.”

Love was not an emotion to describe this, not as he leaned over and kissed her in the rain, shattering any and all boundaries she had with him. Drenched and he pulled her close on the hustling street as the cold rain slid over them. She shivered a bit as he deepened the kiss and she tasted the whiskey he’d been drinking and she slowly melted.

The man knew how to kiss.

Slowly her body arched into his as his arm slid around her as he kissed her harder, with bruising force. The water rolled over her skin, but she didn’t feel the cold as she tangled her fingers into his curling hair. he tugged on her bottom lip as he pulled away and she stared at him. bright aquamarine eyes with a ring of glowing green stared at her, she just struggled to catch her breath.

“You’re drunk,” she said firmly, she hadn’t moved from his embrace.

“A little tipsy, not drunk, little bird,” he smiled.

“Uh-huh, let’s get you home Jason before we catch our death,” she sighed and she struggled from his grasp as she was tucked into his side, she kept her arm around his waist as she navigated the rainy streets of the city, thunder boomed overhead as wind rattled the buildings. Finally staggering to Jason’s building she snatched his keys from him as she quietly flipped the lock.

“Of all the days to be a drunk, Jason,” she sighed, he laughed.

“Tipsy, not drunk,” he corrected.

“Uh-huh,” she rolled her eyes. With Jason it was hard to tell when he was or wasn’t drunk, he was too fucking good at holding his liquor. Unlike Dick who was just a bubbly drunk noodle. However, Raven had gotten the call from the bartender, and she’d come because it was Jason, her friend. She’d dragged her carcass out of her nice, warm, dry, comfy bed to come get him, and now she was staggering under his weight.

“You smell good,” he mused.

“Uh-huh,” she muttered as she fought with his door, he leaned over and undid it and they both toppled in, he landed on her, she gasped at being pinned by all two hundred pounds of Jason.

“Sorry little bird,” he chuckled, and she frowned when he kissed her lightly again as he got up. Raven rolled her eyes and shut his door as he flopped onto his couch, and picked up a discarded beer bottle, frowning when it was empty.

“Right…” he drawled. “No booze,” he muttered sourly.

“Jason, what is going on?” she asked as she walked over to him. Jason wasn’t above drinking, smoking and being a bit hazardous to his own wellbeing, however he’d never… he’d never looked so pitiful or sad.

“I died yesterday,” he said and she blinked as she tilted her head. He laughed bitterly. “Can’t get drunk, can’t be numb, stupid Pit fucked with all that, nothing works right.”

“Jason…” she started cautiously; his death was an untouched subject in their friendship.

“I died, dead buried, had the fucking funeral, heard it was nice, and then, no one cared,” he muttered.

“That’s…” she started.

“Bruce called yesterday, wanted me for a mission in Ethiopia,” he breathed as his head fell back and Raven frowned. Bruce was sometimes emotionally inept, and ever since Jason had come with Dick and Kori to help her save Damian’s and Tim’s and the new Titan’s asses from an alien race wanting revenge, she and Jason were friends. Not super close, but they talked regularly. However, even she knew the particulars of Jason’s death and she knew his pain because as an empath she felt it radiating off him even when he could hide it from everyone else.

“I’m sorry Jason,” she sighed. He waved it off then.

“I just want to be numb, but the booze don’t work, neither did the pain pills,” Jason’s head fell back on his couch and she saw the tears shimmering in his eyes. “You’d think he’d care, he cared when Damian died, but no. Every fucking time it’s Ethiopia, or Joker, or Damian, and I’m just tired of it. I’m so tired of living when I shouldn’t be here.”

“You belong here Jason,” she said evenly as she came over to curl up on the opposite end of the couch. “You deserve to live just as much as Damian, and you… you deserve to be happy.”

“Really?” he mused, his white streak showing as grey from where he dyed it.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“Why didn’t you slap me, little bird?” he asked her and she tensed. “Most girls get kissed by a supposed drunk and they slap him, they don’t let him kiss them.”

She felt the cold water sliding down her back as she felt her nerves trembling. She could reveal her secret, she could tell him, but she didn’t want to, she didn’t want him to ever know. Never. Not because of him but rather because of who she was, for she, and she was quoting from her recent break up ‘drained the life out of him’.

“Shock, and you’re a good kisser, I’m using your shower to warm up, you should too,” she said as she stood in her drenched clothes.

“Let me die, go back to where I belong finally, no one’s going to fucking care.”

“I care, and if you feel that way, you’re showering first,” she snapped as she dragged him up and struggled with him leaning on her as she got him to the bathroom. After immense struggle, she managed to get him in the shower and found herself stripping as well, she collected a discarded shirt of his, as she picked up the soaked clothes and tossed them in Jason’s dryer. Every safe house of his had a washer and dryer, it wasn’t negotiable for him. Dry(ish) and frozen she crawled into his bed as she toweled her hair dry and wrapped herself up in the blankets.

Jason appeared with sweats riding low on his hips and his scarred body showing in perfection as she looked him over.

“Why’d you let me kiss you?” he asked again and she looked up at those bright eyes looking at her with emotions she couldn’t identify, even with her empathy.

“Why’d you kiss me?” she countered. It wasn’t really like she had a line of guys who wanted to kiss her. She was the ‘creepy’ Titan. However, no guy, not even Garfield, or Wally, had ever kissed her like that, even when they were dating.

“Thought it was obviously, you’re the empath,” he smirked.

“Even as an empath, I don’t always get a clear read on you,” she said flatly as she tossed the kitchen towel on the floor near his hamper.

“I like you, sunshine,” he looked so bashful then as he walked to the bed, she saw the slowness in his movement, but he was steady. Her eyes flicked up to him.

“You like Rose,” she said briskly, she remembered the attraction between him and Rose when they met.

“She’s gorgeous,” he nodded but then he smiled slyly which had her frowning.

“But you’re my type.”

“I doubt that,” she mused and decided to indulge him as he fell onto the bed, she stretched out beside him.

“You’re smart, complete badass, you interest me, and you aren’t scared of anything,” he said as his hand tapped her shoulder, she looked at him, he stared at the ceiling. “You’re beautiful too, not pretty or gorgeous, and you’re unique. And I like your company,” he said.

“Mmm, is that all?” she asked, a bit baffled at his sincerity.

“No, I also liked the way you kiss,” he murmured propping himself up on his elbow and she leaned over him carefully.

“You’re drunk Jason,” she informed him dryly and he smiled.

“Nope, I don’t get drunk anymore, the Pit,” he said.

“The tender called me because you were drunk.”

“I know, you’d think I was drunk to if I came in at ten in the morning and stayed till last call,” he mused. “Not drunk though, I’m tired.”

“I don’t believe you Jason,” she whispered as she kept herself close but out of reach.

“Stick around for the morning, I’m serious little bird,” he said softly and she found herself drawn into a kiss again. Raven gave in, she didn’t fight him, Azar knew she’d been so pathetically tired of always being alone, being left behind, or being not good enough. Jason knew that feeling, and if for a night they indulged in this, she wouldn’t regret it and she doubted Jason would remember it and if he did, she doubted he’d move forward with it.

They were friends, sort of, and she didn’t mind having a night to feel as alive as the storm outside.

“Say you’re staying,” he whispered against her mouth.

“I have nowhere else,” she breathed as he kissed her again. His hands tangling in her hair as he moved over her, she just stared at him as he pulled away.

“Good,” he whispered. “I’m going to prove this is real.”

“Jason, it’s alright if it isn’t,” she promised.

“No, I need something real,” he murmured. “Can you give me something real?”

“Jason, if you want this to be real we’ll talk when you’re sober and awake,” she nodded and he nodded as he collapsed beside her. She found herself wrapped up tight and embrace as his nose was buried in the nape of her neck.

“I want real,” he muttered sleepily. She rolled her eyes at him as she felt him sleep. He didn’t want her, she knew this, but for tonight she’d indulge in her wanting him.

She woke in the morning to the phone ringing and she sighed as she squirmed over Jason to answer it.

“Morning,” she yawned as she answered the phone.

“Who is this?” she heard Bruce’s voice fill the phone, it was the ‘Batman’ tone of no nonsense; she’d been Dick’s friend long enough to know this tone from Bruce.

“Raven,” she answered sleepily. Jason was hugging her legs and kissed her thigh which had her swatting at him, but she didn’t bother to move from being draped over him.

“Where’s Jason?”

“He says he’s not drunk, but I think he’s drunk,” Raven said and gasped when sharp teeth nipped her thigh which had her looking over her shoulder at Jason who glared at her. “Scratch that, he’s definitely drunk and about to be dead, again.”

“I want to speak to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Raven said. “You want to send him to Ethiopia, and didn’t look at the calendar which lead to him trying to drink his liver away, Bruce.”

And with that she hung up and turned off his phone, and her phone, and her communicator as she flicked Jason’s ear as she slid back over him to her spot in the bed. Which was the edge near the other side and about on the floor. Jason grabbed her hips and dragged her to him so she was on the bed again.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he sleepily.

“Uhhuh,” she nodded as she shifted.

“I was serious, Raven, last night,” he said and she looked up at eyes now fully alert.

Raven just blinked.

YOU ARE A SWEET ANGEL OF INFINITE BEAUTY AND GRACE