#a whole like two weeks without really *cough*

[upsidedownmvnson]

tell me you love me | steve harrington

warnings: fluff (warning lol) friends to lovers, idiots to lovers,

a/n: i actually really loved this <3 i hope you do too

tell me you love me vol 2

Steve Harrington had already tried twice in his life to confess his love for you.

The first time, you two were in the tenth grade and you had just accepted stupid Jack Warren's invitation to prom, so Steve didn't bother. That was back when he was settling into popularity anyway, so he got over it pretty quickly. He was dating Cathy Bartlett the next week.

The second time, Robin had made him pinky promise not to date you. She had held him down, sat on his back and twisted his arm until he pinky swore that he wouldn't do anything to destroy the delicate ecosystem of the friend group. There was already one awkward ex-situation in there.

But Robin was right, you were not like the girls he normally dated. If things went wrong he wouldn't be able to just sweep it under the rug, it could have painful ramifications for all his friends. Although... he didn't actually think it would go that bad. Steve would find his mind wandering on the idea often. He pictured the two of you in the kitchen, side by side cooking dinner and talking about your day. When he thought of you, it felt like home. It felt like somewhere he could build a house and live forever.

If he could only get the words out, he'd realize how quickly you'd accept him. He'd realize he wasn't the only one of you that was stupid in love.

You had been in love with Steve since you could remember. But never once thought he'd shared your interest, not with all the girls around him all the time. The way he shines in their attention and basks in their praise, it's enough to make you sure he's happy with how it is. Or he probably wouldn't have told you all about his date with Debbie Dabbenthorn, right?

Tonight, you, Nancy and Robin were at a party. Something Steve desperately tried to make not happen. But he was working, so there was no one to stop you girls from coaxing each other into drink after drink, which you always did. The three of you always drank too much, and Steve always got stuck trying to coral you and Robin into his car.

At the party, Nancy was handing you another red cup filled to the brim, sloshing over the side and coating your fingers. You hadn't noticed.

"I love when we ditch the boys," Nancy said, smiling as she sipped out of her own solo cup. "It's so fun!"

"Same," Robin said, slinging her arm around Nancy's shoulers, making the two of them sway and laugh. They caught their balance and cheered drinks. "Hey, help me find the bathroom!"

It wasn't hard to find, but it was hard for all three of you to get there without knocking into each other, but it didn't matter. The three of you giggled the whole way, laughing too hard over barely anything. Enjoying the simple joy of being with your friends on a party.

The line for the bathroom was short, only a few people deep. Nancy was grilling Robin on her love life while Robin evaded every question with a vague answer, soon, she turned it onto you, focusing Nancy on the other singler girl in the group.

"Do you not think anyone is cute at least?" Nancy said, not quite believing you when you say you didn't have a crush on anyone at the moment. You shrugged, trying to avoid admitting that it was her ex boyfriend that really turned your head. Robin chuckled, and slid into the bathroom.

You started sipping your drink when Nancy asked, "Not even Steve?" and you nearly choked, but you coughed once and composed yourself. You stared at her, confused as to why she would bring him up.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, and you looked into your cup, noting that you'd need a replacement after this trip. "But it would be okay with me."

Robin opened the bathroom door again, reassembling the trio be throwing her arms around both of your shoulders. "New drinks!" she cheered, steering you all in the direction of the kitchen.

"Drink up," Nancy giggled, "and then let's dance!"

So that's what you did, you guys drank and danced and had a great time. Until Jonathan came to pick up Nancy. That's when you saw that it was after nine, so Steve should've been on the way to come collect you and Robin from your drunken outing. You told Robin again how nice it was for Steve to come get you.

"But c'mon, you love him right?" Robin asked, laughing at your shock.

"I do not love him," you argued, but you did. Robin shrugged, but didn't look convinced. "He just is beautiful, that's all."

"Nah," she said, brushing off the idea with a wave of her hand. "You just love him."

"Do not," you mumbled. But Robin already leaned the other way when Vicki walked up to talk to her. You leaned further into the couch, the ugly thing was very comfortable. Steve should be there any minute.

"Hey," Robin whispered, "Vicki invited me to go with her friends to the lake... Are you gunna be okay here? You're not too drunk are you? Because if you think you can't stay awake, I'll stay of course..."

"Robin, go! I'll be fine for like two minutes..." you slurred, you were pretty drunk but Steve really was going to be there any second.

"Okay!" she didn't have to be told twice before she was scrambling after Vicki in her love-drunk haze. Or maybe just regular drunk, but Robin was feeling giddy anyway.

Steve was running behind because he lost the address that Robin had given him. She'd just ripped off a corner of a piece of paper, and Steve had lost it at some point in his shift. When he finally found the place he was thirty minutes behind.

When he got inside you were curled up on the couch alone, snoozing while some couple made out next to you in the spot Robin had vacated. He smiled when he saw you, and took a knee next to you, trying to wake you up nicely. He stroked your cheek, and tucked some hair behind ear, making you stir softly in your slumber.

"Time to get up," Steve said, "Where's Robin?"

"Went with Vicki," you whispered, rubbing your eyes, smudging whatever makeup wasn't already ruined from the dancing.

"Well, how mean of her to leave you here all alone," he said, running his thumb along your cheek again. "Can't trust you guys alone now though, she did leave you to fall asleep at a house party. That's like really bad, I'm mad at her."

You made a soft noise in response, his stern voice was, not so stern. He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. Leaning close to you, rubbing your cheek, hair falling perfectly on his forehead and you just wanted to reach up and brush it away like he did. But your hands were wedged under your head, and you were afraid that if you stirred even an inch, he would leave, and this moment would be over.

"Guess you'll just have to make sure you come with us next time," you whispered, eyes bloodshot and glossy from all the alcohol. He thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The party was still raging around him, and he easily could've found a place within the girls, but he was content in this moment with you. Your eyes started feeling heavy, and you couldn't stop them from constantly fluttering shut.

“C'mon let me help you up babe,” Steve said, aiding your drunk figure. The nickname made your stomach flip. You were dead weight, giggling as he took care of you and grabbed your things and still found the patience to be kind to you, musing like he was interested in all your drunk babble.

“You're just so pretty, Stevie, it's stupid,” you cooed, finding a place beside him with his arms around you for balance as he lead you, slowly, to his car.

"D-Don't say that stuff," Steve said, voice cracking at the beginning. You were drunk, and it was dark, but you still noticed the blush on Steve's cheeks, and you smiled.

He opened the door for you, and you commented, "so romantic," while holding your hand over your heart, and Steve's heart raced. He went around the trunk of his car to get another second of fresh air, if you saw him in the light you were sure to see the heat he felt in his neck and cheeks. You were flirting with him, and he couldn't contain his excitement every time you complimented him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

The entire trip was like that. From the moment he was in the car you were just a loose cannon of compliments and praises. This combination of him sober and you drunk has never happened while alone before. Were you this flirty with him when he was drunk too?

The answer was yes. The real reason Nancy knew you really wanted Steve was because whenever you two are drunk and together you look like you're in love... because you are. Holding hands, head on shoulder, legs across laps, big bright smiles that made everyone think you were truly, madly, deeply in love. Everything that's just a little too friendly, but never crossing that silly little line that kept you both under the umbrella of just friends.

You were a delight in his passenger seat. He only wished you spoke like this when you were sober, because then maybe he'd know for sure you love him too.

"Hey Steve?" you asked, voice coming out as almost a purr in your sleepy state. Steve's heart melted. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yeah," he answered, clearing his throat and moving his hand over to your lap, intertwining your fingers. Your hands were cold to the touch, but all you felt was the comforting warmth of him. You were both smiling, goofy grins to match the butterflies in your stomach. "You can hold my hand whenever you like."

You made another happy hum, but said nothing else. The ride was short. No words exchanged, just the quiet songs on the radio, turned low to let you drift off in the passenger seat.

When you got to his house, he parked the car, looking at you. He didn't want to wake you. And he didn't want to let go of your hand. Maybe he should just stay in the car all night.

Of course he didn't do that. Steve weaseled his way out of your grip, not bothering to hide how pleased he was that you whined at the loss of his touch. he helped you out of the car, encouraging you to climb on his back for "an express ride to the VIP bathroom," and he delivered, carrying you, all dead weight and giggling, to the bathroom where he left you to clean up. You put on the clothes he delivered, Plaid pajama pants and a big grey shirt. Well, you put the shirt on, the pajama pants were thrown into the tub, because you couldn't be forced to wear pants.

"Steeeeeve," you slurred, leaving the bathroom, giggling and bumping into the doorframe.

Steve was standing in the doorway to his room, wearing only blue plaid pj pants. His torso on glorious display, while he stood frozen at the sight of you. You stretched your arms over your head, and the shirt rose, exposing your panties to him. He nearly choked looking at you.

"Can I sleep in your room?" you asked, smiling at the effect you had on him. "Look how cute I am," you said, turning around and lifting the shirt while bending over slightly, giving him a perfect view of your ass, with the panties laying deliciously over your cheeks.

"Jesus," he muttered, unable to look away but trying to force himself to. He shouldn't be sneaking a peak while you were this drunk, but in his defence you were the one showing him. "Come to bed, just put your shirt down."

"It's your shirt," you teased, obeying him anyway. You danced behind him into the room, and crawled into bed. It smelled so good, it smelled like him. You could've stayed by Steve's side under these blankets forever.

You lay facing Steve, in his overly big, overly comfortable bed, too tired and drunk to keep your eyes open, but you still try. Steve smiles at your determination to stay awake, he watches your eyes blink quickly, trying to shake the sleep away.

You want to reach over and intertwine your hands, you don’t. He wants to reach out and brush the hair off your forehead and behind your ear, he doesn’t.

“Are we in love, Steve?”

The sharpness of your question cuts him, wounding him in a way he didn’t know was possible. He wanted to speak, but there were no words. No charismatic come back, and no way to avoid the lingering question in the air. Steve holds his tears back. He really did love you.

When your eyes peak open, he’s nodding. His eyes filled with tears that he refuses to let you see, but you see. "Yeah, I think so."

“Why is it so sad?”

“Because we're best friends," he said, "and I can't lose you."

"Tell me you love me," you whispered, silly mood replaced with a tight feeling in your throat, like you were going to cry. But you held it back.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to kiss you. But instead, he just sighed, and found your hand under the sheets, and held it tightly. He was frozen. This was his dream come true, so why did it feel like a nightmare? Like you were right there, but he couldn't have you. Like he was doomed to stay in love with you, and never actually get to be with you.

“I will still love you in the morning whether I say it or not, Stevie.” Your eyes finally started winning the battle, and they stayed closed more than they stayed open, too heavy too fight.

"I know babe," he said, watching as you breathing changed and your eyes didn't open again. "I will too."

[venuzasmuse]

𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐓

ellie with a reader that has a cat!

oh my god i’ve been meditating on this idea for so long

warnings: none. just ellie with a cat because they’re two things i love most in this world.

❀ i feel like in a modern au, ellie would lovelovelove animals and she’d jump at any opportunity to pet any dog she sees but she probably had some weird, bad experience with a cat when she was younger and just was not that fond of them.

❀ UNTIL. she met you.

❀ the two of you have been dating for a while and you decided to invite her over for once after only really going to her apartment on the days / nights y’all would be together.

❀ all is well and you’re turning your keys in the lock, too immersed in the oh so interesting conversation the two of you are in that you don’t even notice your pet leaping towards the two of you.

❀ her eyes would turn into saucers and she’d let out a really high pitched yelp before masking it with a cough to not look like a fool in front of you.

❀ initially, ellie is caught off guard.

❀ you never mentioned that you had a cat despite having been together for a few weeks. you’re so excited to see your furry friend and she’s just kinda standing there like 🧍‍♀️because like i said, she probably had some random traumatizing experience with cats when she was younger and engaging with them again just never crossed her mind.

❀ your cat is the sweetest baby in the whole wide world and after some warming up to her, ellie literally falls in love with your cat. i’m talking, she cannot stop holding her and loving on her.

❀ ellie didn’t really know how to pet her at first. she’d awkwardly rub her hand over your cats head and you’d just fizzle out into a puddle of giggles, trying to demonstrate how to.

“baby- no— here look. like this.”

❀ and you cat loves her too. you practically have to pry her off of ellie when she decides she in fact cannot sleepover that night.

❀ as your relationship together grows, so does her love for your cat.

❀ once y’all get to a comfortable stage of your relationship, you end up giving her spare key to your apartment and there’d be times where she’d literally just be there without you and you wouldn’t know until you walk in from a long night at work, and she’s just passed out and splayed across your bed with your cat perched up on her chest, sleeping.

❀ the way ellie plays with your cat is she’d pretend to be hurt when it playfully bites her and shakes it when it doesn’t let go of her.

❀ whenever y’all are running errands together, she’d randomly find a toy, even if it’s not a cat toy, and throw it in the cart without saying a word.

❀ she just knows your cat would love it. it’s her maternal instincts.

❀ is the type to give into whatever your cat wants. her food? fine. a random bracelet your cat just randomly starts to latch it’s teeth onto? it’s got it now, there’s no turn back.

❀ when y’all are laid up together after a long night, your cat would try to slot itself in between y’all and she’d just move it repeatedly until it settles on the spot near her neck and just lays on her.

❀ she’s so tired she wouldn’t even react to it. she’d just let the cat slowly suffocate her in her sleep.

❀ would randomly send you pictures of your cat attacking the camera and it’d be from the funniest angles ever.

❀ hella .5 pictures will also be sent and taken.

❀ that’s basically what her entire camera roll consists of.

❀ just you and your cat.

[literaila]

sick

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore

warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids

last part | next part

*

year two.

you:  can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it 

"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'" 

your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive. 

you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?

you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru." 

usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least. 

"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning. 

"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile. 

"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument. 

really, why do you put up with him?

"nothing." 

"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..." 

you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah." 

"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?" 

"no." 

satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor. 

but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask. 

"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence. 

you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?" 

"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear. 

"how?" 

"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?" 

"i don't think he wants to go with me." 

"satoru," you whine. 

"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore." 

you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?" 

"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days. 

not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst. 

"why?" 

"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..." 

"you mean that you swore them to secrecy." 

"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds. 

"with what?!" 

"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat." 

you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place. 

"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep. 

he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?" 

you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you." 

"rude." 

"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."

you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...

"what? no."

"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed. 

"he doesn't need to go..." 

you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised." 

"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think." 

you're silent. 

"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine. 

your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--" 

"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly. 

"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--" 

"don't die of the flu or anything." 

and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too. 

*

you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.

the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall. 

because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.  

once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open. 

the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them. 

"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.

"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything." 

"'cause you're rich." 

"wow, so you're objectifying me?" 

"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you. 

the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.

"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment. 

yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them. 

"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her. 

"our idea," megumi amends, easily. 

then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.

who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.

he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn." 

you cough. "don't call them that." 

he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there. 

it's a new record. 

"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.

"no 'hello?'" 

"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?" 

"you look kinda rough, kid," 

you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk." 

"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment. 

"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you." 

satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness." 

"and yet we're still stuck with you." 

satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not. 

you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"

"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--" 

"no, he didn't!" megumi calls. 

satoru frowns. "devil. spawn." 

you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door. 

satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off. 

he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall. 

it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded. 

satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it. 

you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?" 

"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods." 

"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?" 

megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well. 

"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in. 

because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are. 

"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her. 

most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it. 

she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.

"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are." 

"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.

"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.

"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face. 

"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag." 

"thanks, megs." 

"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--" 

"strawberry!" 

megumi rolls his eyes. 

tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car." 

"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here." 

"when did you do that?" 

"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses. 

you laugh. 

"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet. 

tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?" 

"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry." 

"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away. 

"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet." 

satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?" 

"you could've done better." 

the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them. 

and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long. 

"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green." 

"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with. 

"i am a gentleman." 

"ha. no, seriously." 

"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have." 

"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes. 

and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm." 

you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah." 

"did you sleep all day?" 

you nod. 

"really? that's so lazy." 

you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove. 

"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick." 

"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone." 

"yeah, but..." 

"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready." 

"you'll burn it, you mean?" 

"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose. 

his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in. 

when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!" 

there's no response, but you know he'll do it. 

tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under. 

megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours. 

your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here. 

*

you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time. 

it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts. 

they're mostly okay. 

but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing. 

and then you look back to him, already scowling. 

"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say. 

"i told you--" 

and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you. 

you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children. 

*

next part

[bueckerrss]

SKYFALL - PAIGE BUECKERS

warnings: angst.

tags: @patscorner @wintersstan @pbueckerslover

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

TEARS FORMED IN MY EYES the words i dreaded the most were finally said and i had no idea how we got here but it finally happened.

how did we get here? i thought everything was okay between us, but i guess not everything was like i thought it was.

“look, i’m sorry okay i just don’t feel a connection between us anymore and i’m not going to lie i have been seeing someone else” she said no emotion behind her words.

wake up, wake up, wake up!

this is just a horrible dream y/n she’s not here, she’s not real, but what if it was? what if she really is here telling me all the things i’ve never wanted to talk about?

“oh,” i whispered fearing that if i said something else i would break down “since when?” i asked looking at her face for answers “for a while now, like three weeks or so” great. around that time she was being the most loving girlfriend.

“PAIGE!!” i shrieked as she tickled me making me squirm beneath her trying to free myself from her grip “SAY IT! SAY I’M THE BEST AT FORTNITE!” she said in between laughs still tickling me “never!” i laughed out as i flipped us over so now i was on top looking at her. her eyes looking into mine then down towards my lips, in one quick motion her lips were on mine a fire enlightening in us. the spark suddenly being back, the spark i’ve missed so much.

“so everything we did and everything we shared was fake?” i felt tears prick my eyes blinking them back i look at her face no sign of remorse or guilt being shown “i mean not entirely but yea, look i have to go” she said standing up and heading for the door.

once i was sure she was gone i let out a sob finally letting everything out, how could i be so stupid? i knew she was no good for me but i let my guard down. i trusted her.

“paige look it’s a duck!” i said pointing to the pond in front of us as we walked down the park hand in hand “where?” she asked looking around the pond “right there by the rock!” i said she followed my gaze and smiled at the sight of the baby duck waddling out of the water. “he walks like you” she teased slightly nudging my shoulder, i turned around pretending to be mad at her “babe, don’t be like that! i was joking!” she said going after me and placing a hand on my shoulder i shrugged it off looking anywhere but her. “baby come on look at me” she said stepping in front of me she lifted my chin up with two fingers making me look at her “there you go, wasn’t that hard right?” she whispered, letting my chin go she pulled out a box from her pocket and held it out for me. the black velvet box seeming so small compared to her hand, i looked up at her a smile spread across my face as she nodded towards the box for me to take.

opening the lid it revealed a beautiful golden necklace with a heart charm “look into the heart” she smiled at me as i looked into the heart my smile grew wider it said “i love you” in every language.

i took off the necklace she had given me and placed it on the table in front of me, laying down on my back looking up at the ceiling the tears pooling out of my eyes the harder i tried stopping them the more the tears would came out. it felt like my whole world was crumbling apart.

my heart felt like it was breaking every second that passed, i felt like i couldn’t breathe without her by my side she was my source of oxygen and i lost it. i held my breath trying to calm myself down but a sob escaped my lips making me cough.

-

i’ve spent more time looking at my phone for a text or call from paige, but nothing all i wanted was an explanation. the one she gave me didn’t feel like her. it felt forced. but i didn’t have time for that anymore.

i walked towards the familiar door i’ve walked through a thousand times before knocking on it. a girl i didn’t recognize opened the door “hi, sorry to bother but is paige home?” i asked looking at the redhead in front of me “babe who’s at the door?” a familiar voice said in the background as it got closer “y/n” she said locking eyes with me her whole demeanor changing “paige,” i said stretching out my arms with the box of her things “just came to return your things” i said as i handed her the box “uh, thanks” she said “lily could you put this in my room please?” she asked giving her the box leaving us alone.

“is that all?” she asked looking around “yea, that’s all and here” i said taking out the velvet box from my pocket and putting it in her hand before leaving without saying anything else.

“do you ever think about the future?” i asked paige as i drew figures on her arms “all the time, why?” she asked looking at me “am i in it?” i whispered looking at her “baby, you are my future there’s no one else i’ll love more than you.” she whispered back pulling me closer to kiss my head. i smiled as i let sleep take over my body and enjoying this moment.

[sepherinaspoppies]

Riding the Dragon- Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: after a great dinner with Aemond, he decides to give you a ride on his motorcycle, a Dragon T6.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, public smut, pussy on bike, cum play?, reader getting off on Aemond's bike, some tiddy succin, mentions of p in v sex, I think that it?

wc: 3,064

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dividers by @firefly-graphics

masterlist

click here for a tiktok that gives off aemond in this story lo

notes: this is my first time writing in reader's pov? the whole 'you' kind of perspective. I apologize if it sucks ass, I wanted to try something different. And can y'all believe I wrote majority of this when I was ovulating? HAHA

“I had a really nice time tonight.” The man in front of you says with a content and flirtatious smile on his pretty chiseled face. 

Heat coats through your cheeks to the tip of your ears. Definitely not the effect of the two glasses of wine you’d drunk not too long ago. Wine hardly ever did a number on you to slightly fuddle your conscience. 

You give him a sheepish grin, scraping the tips of your heels against the pavement, shying away from the intensity that his eye holds. “Same here. I hope we can do this again sometime.”

His face contorts in a way that clearly indicates that the feeling is in fact very, mutual. “Mind if I take down your number?” He asks, pulling out the latest new Iphone from his pocket. You only engaged in conversation through the dating app both of you met in and you thought it seemed only fair to give him your number after weeks of meeting him.

He taps a few things on his screen before you’re met with a white screen with only your first name and birthday typed. It is then when you wonder how he came about on knowing your birthday, if you had ever mentioned it in your electrifying conversations either on the app or this date. Most likely the second option. 

You knew his name, well if you’d call it that, supplying you only his first initial. By his angelic looks, he was definitely of Valyrian descent. And you hate how much of a sucker you were for those blonde bitches. You knew he was in the last year of university, double majoring in political science and business here in the capital. You also knew he had a geriatric maine coon cat, Vhagar, who’d stuck with him since he was a child. 

But that was pretty much it. 

You nod, typing out the most critical information both of you needed in order to secure the second date. “Here you go,” you hand back his phone with such caution that causes his lips to quiver in a smirk. 

He leans forward, too forward in a way you feel his breath steadily fanning your face and the warmth that radiates through his chest. You don’t pull away as his head lowers, keeping your gaze steady with his, admiring the amethyst hue of his lone eye that twinkles against the low street lights. 

A snakes his hand around your hips, which normally you’d slap away if it was any other man. But he was different. A rare gentleman who bought you a single winter rose even when you were five minutes late, let you devour the fries off his plate, and hashed your steak without asking. 

You wanted him to kiss you and perhaps even more. 

You wouldn’t say no. If anything you’d whimper out a simple “please” if it came to that. 

However, just as you expect his lips, it doesn’t come. He pulls away with a lupine smirk on his face, waiting for a response to a question you did not hear.

You cough away the slight embarrassment, “What?” 

“I asked what your password was,” 

Before you process how he did it, you see him wave the gray screen of your phone around your face, waiting for the six digit code. 

Oh. 

“I got your number but you did not get mine and you’re gonna need it when I take you out to dinner again.” The blonde in front of you points out. 

True.

It almost feels too goofy revealing the code that multiple of your friends tease you for. Nevertheless, you stutter out the numbers: one, two, three, four, five, and six. 

You hear him dryly laugh, shaking his head side to side as he types out the three sets of numbers. “Mmm, you need a better password, darling. One might think you want your personal information stolen,” He teases. You shift your thighs to a close at the term of endearment, already feeling the slightest tingles in a place where you desired him the most. 

You make a sound of agreement making a mental note to change it later tonight. After he hands back your phone, he combs back the loose silvery hair out of his face into a neat bun that well flatters his face. “Take mine for example; it’s five, twenty-two, one-thirty. Easy to remember.” 

“Is that your cat’s birthday?” You questioned. 

“No. It’s the day we matched on Tinder.” 

You are lost for words. Not even you knew the exact date you matched with him, only knowing it was around a few weeks ago. Judging by your reaction, he knew what you were thinking. 

After a few more rounds of flirtatious conversations, you both decided to call it a night, waving each other goodnight as you watched as he sped up in a black, shiny Dragon T6, a vintage motorcycle that was the second most precious thing he owned. (The first being Vhagar). You’d be lying if that wasn’t one of the list of reasons why you swiped right. A tall Valyrian man, with long locks, that rode a motorcycle definitely modeled the countless dark romance books you’d spent hours reading. 

To your frustration, the price of Uber had doubled the amount you’d paid for hours ago. Not even Uber Share happened to be near your price range. For ten gold dragons, you could buy a week’s worth of groceries!

So you sighed, turning off your phone. Your usual bus was still in service and way cheaper than the ridiculous prices of Uber. And while it was too late to be out by yourself, it was a risk you were willing to take. 

As you rummage through your wallet for some copper coins, you hear a deep, rumbling sound of an engine revving up close to where you stand. 

It’s him. Braking his bike on the side of the road where you are. His expensive Lysene suit coat no longer hugged his body, wearing only a white dress shirt that was half unbuttoned, giving you an impeccable view of his perfectly rounded cleavage and the multiple hidden tattoos you didn’t know he had. 

“Hop in,” He says, pointing his head to the side. It was not a request but a demand. 

You tilt your head, unsure whether to say yes or no. “Is it safe?” You ask. His chest moves, seemingly laughing as he opens the visor of his helmet. “Of course it is. I’m a cautious driver, never had an accident and I don’t think I ever will. I made sure to drink water after a glass of wine, so I’m not under the influence.” 

He narrows his eye, observing the hesitation written throughout your face. He offers the spare helmet from his bag and hopes that it will coax the uneasiness. 

“If you’re so dubious about it then by all means the bike is yours to drive.” 

It’s your turn to laugh because the thought of you riding something of high value and rarity seemed absurd and silly. You were someone who did not have experience in driving in general whilst also being terrified of the narrow and steep roads of King’s Landing. 

But there was no humor in A’s eye. 

“You’re not serious are you?” 

He powers off the bike before he scoots back from his seat. “I am.” He eagerly pats the spot he has saved for you. 

“You do realize that this is a Dragon T6, right? They practically don’t make these anymore!” You gesture your hands around the expensive looking machine that was probably worth more than your left kidney. 

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms on his chest. “What’s your point?”

You scoff playfully, “My point is that manufacturers don’t make these anymore and if I crash it–”  

“–You should have a little more faith in yourself. Maybe this will come naturally to you but you’ll never know if you don’t try.” 

You can’t help but exhale in slight failure. This was a conversation you knew you couldn’t win with him. “Look, I’m not going to pressure you into something you don’t feel comfortable doing but I happen to be a great teacher. And if you do crash I’ll buy another, they aren’t that expensive anyways.” The Valyrian man shrugs as if thousands, or hundred thousands of gold dragons were nothing. 

You mutter a “fine” under your breath which makes him all giddy with excitement and slides the helmet down your head. He double checks if it's secured before he lifts you to sit properly on his bike. 

“Or I have one or two things in mind of how you could repay me.” 

Every single piece of information he hurled your way was taken deep into your head. And you did your best to pay attention to it all under the sharp needles of nerves going through your spine. At some point he had given you little rubs up and down your back to soothe your nerves. The effect was anything but that, instead all you could think about was how his hands would feel against the bareness of your body.

Fuck. 

You tried to push those lewd thoughts away as he demonstrated the anatomy of the Dragon T6. The ignition was a little red switch right below the speedometer, whilst the clutch was on the left hand side and the accelerator in your right. The gear shift was something you had to get used to as it was not on your eye level but rather a small little lever near your foot. 

Once he feels you’ve gotten the grasp of how everything works it was time for the ultimate test. “Alright now we start. Are you ready?” He asked with an eager smile tugging his lips. 

No.

You nod your head, adjusting the mirrors to match your height. You feel the tips of his fingers lift and turn your chin towards him, “Use your words, darling.” There it was that name again that made you clutch your thighs together. You audibly gulp, “Y-yes I’m ready.”

“Good,” His hands squeeze at your hip bones to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widen almost comically to what you assume is his cock pressing insistently onto your ass. It was hard, and through the thin material of your dress you could feel it throbbing full of want and need. Gods, how will you ever focus now?

A brief image flashed through your mind of how much and what was packing underneath his undergarments. The length and thickness and how it would feel wrapped around your palm as you’d stroke him from base to tip, or the taste of him as you’d take him inside your mouth, or having his full length stuffed deep inside you as he fucked you dumb. 

Something tells you that he knows what you are thinking but neither of you speak about it. 

Finally, he takes your hands onto the handles of the clutch and the accelerator and you, being a step ahead, check if the gear is on neutral before you release the clutch and to your satisfaction it is. The blonde behind you smiles at you proudly like a teacher would to their student. 

“Now, you’re gonna slowly release the clutch and twist the accelerator slightly…there you go, good girl. You’re doing such a good job.” He coos at your ear. 

The beat of your heart raced almost out of your chest. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a small accomplishment or the low timbre of his voice praising you but you welcomed it. 

With confidence you didn’t know you had, you decided to drive the rest of the way to your apartment without complications and took up every tip the man behind you advised. The cool air kissing your skin and the adrenaline wildly pumping through your veins, awoke something in you and slowly you began to comprehend why A loved riding. 

You had felt like a small bird taking its first flight through the skies. 

When you both reached the parking lot to your apartment, you returned his helmet and a small part lingering inside you did not want to let it go. You enjoyed it and the freedom it brought you.  

“That was so fun! I can’t believe it was that easy. Think I need to save me up for one of these,” You quipped patting the bike. 

He throws his head back to let out an amused laugh, “Or I can just give you this one,” A tone of nonchalant laced through his voice. 

You look at him baffled, “I was–” 

“–But first we need to get you your license before I–” 

“–Absolutely not, I was jesting.” You snipped, making him roll his eyes with a slight pout drawing out his lips.

“You’re stubborn and difficult, has anyone told you that?” You chortle thinking of the numerous times you’ve been called that. 

“Plenty of times but I reckon this won’t be the last.” 

He hums tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “I guess I have to fuck it out of you.”

You blink.

The hue of your cheeks increased tenfold, your feet and body became paralyzed to what he had just confessed. 

Had he just said that to shut you up? If so it worked. 

You didn’t know how to respond to something as bold as that and to your inclination you lowered your head but the blonde behind you couldn’t have that. You felt the tips of his fingers roughly grip your jaw to meet his gaze. The amethyst hue of his eye turned into a darker shade of violet as he eyed between your eyes then your lips. 

Every part of you screamed for him to kiss you or to do something to appease the longing. 

You instinctively parted your lips when his head began to dip towards your lips. The tip of his nose brushed delicately against your own then it slowly trailed to sniff at your neck, the sweet smell of spiced peaches. 

“Nyke jaelagon ao,” He whispered in his mother language. 

“Pār emagon issa,” You said before you mentally said ‘fuck it’ and knocked the wind out of him with a kiss. 

He lets out a mix between a growl and a groan as he feels your wandering hands tugging the roots of his hair. Something you yearned to do ever since you saw how long and silky his hair was. 

And Gods did it meet your expectations. 

His lips moved against yours most ardently and with equal fervor. It was hungry and needy the way your teeth clashed with his, tongues dancing for dominance until you hissed when he bit your lower lip. 

You melted into his warm embrace, deciding to tease him by rubbing your palm on his clothed length, detecting a damp patch. You shot your eyes open, separating away your lips. 

“Did you just cum?” You panted heavily. 

A smirked, “I came when you first got on the bike and I was about to cum right now.” 

You quirked a brow, “That’s what did it for you?” Redness coated his cheeks and before you knew it his lips were on you again and his hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing the black lacy panties you wore just for him. 

“Incase you get lucky,” Your best friend Sara teased just the day before when you and her took a shopping trip to a Lysene lingerie store. 

Through some imaginary telepathic communication, you thanked Sara. 

He groaned feeling the wetness that gathered through your folds. You weren’t just wet, you were dripping like honey on a hot summer’s day. A mischievous idea popped into his mind, something so lewd that made the head of his cock twitch with excitement. 

You squealed as he swiftly turned you around and twisted the ignition switch on. Was he going to make you drive in this state? 

“Move your panties to the side.” He commanded behind you. 

You pushed away the curiosity and did what he bid you to do. “Good girl. Now lean forward a bit.” You shifted yourself forward until you could feel the warm metal of his seat pressing tenaciously at your bare cunt. 

A gasp turned into drawn out moans as the blonde behind you revved the accelerator at a speed that made stars appear in your eyes. It felt good, so obscenely good that all thoughts about being in a public setting flew right over your head. 

You began to grind yourself with the vibrations, creating as much friction to your bud as you could. 

“That’s it, darling,” He encouraged behind you, increasing power to the accelerator just enough for your arousal to coat his bike. “Fuck yourself on my Dragon.” 

You clenched around nothing, whining as you felt the pure waves of ecstasy slithering down your spine. It was unlike anything you ever felt, not even the vibrator you owned made you topple over the edge.

In ten seconds or less, you loudly moaned, not caring who heard or saw you, as your legs shaked and the coil around your stomach loosened, cumming absolutely hard. 

Your limbs felt entirely spent as if you ran three laps around Rhaenys’ hill. 

“Mmm, do not get too comfortable, now, darling.” He boasted smugly as his fingers scoop your honey to his lips, humming at the delicious taste. “I haven’t even fucked you senseless yet and after witnessing this I want nothing more but to ruin your ability to walk straight for week.” 

A low whine escaped your lips at the thought of him roughly taking you. “Is that what you want?” He questioned, lowering the straps of your dress to expose your breasts to his gaze. 

You sighed contently, feeling his tongue enclosing around your perk nipple. “Yes please,” You tenderly loop your fingers through his hair. 

“I promise I will never make you beg,” He murmurs against your breast, “But you sound so pretty when you do.” 

He had kept true to his word as he not only bent you over his bike as he fucked you raw, but took you three more rounds on your couch, bed and shower until you absolutely passed out in his arms. And for the rest of the week you couldn’t walk straight without limping. Thanks to Aemond Targaryen. 

general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost @tofujiji @saturnssrings @janeety @thought--bubble @theunburt @mandiiblanche @iamkookiesforyou @jeben196 @just-a-harmless-patato @moneypriestess @ladymoon666 @angelinap09

empty is who I couldn't tag sowwy besties.

[bau-drabbles]

say it again

a/n: fluffy fluff w the team and spencer. it was gonna be smut but i was having a mental breakdown over my exams so it took a diff turn lmao.

hope you enjoy 🤍

"hey pretty girl-" "no" "but i-" "no"

wrapped up in a thick warm blanket, you narrow your eyes at morgan while everyone still boards the jet. he's annoying you and you know it. but combined with your health and tiredness, you really don't want to play into it tonight.

however morgan is morgan and he has other plans, obviously

you were just so grateful to be going home where your bed desperately awaits your presence. it had been an awful two weeks, the unsub was meticulous and smart. and he worked with several people, it took days to track them all down. not to mention today was also the delightful day your immune system decided it no longer wanted to work resulting in a high fever and the flu. you passed the worst of it but not yet well enough to do most things.

"are you sleeping?" rossi poked your head and you gave him a slight glare, indicating towards yourself

"does it look like i'm having a party here?" you ask sarcastically, making him raise his arms in defense. rossi chuckles as he sits next to morgan, undoubtedly the two were going to be a pain in the ass the whole entire time.

"you cut us deep kid, you cut us real deep" morgan placed a hand over his heart, feigning sadness and pain. you both went back and forth with the comments until you groan slightly, leaning your head back.

"emily" you complained, pointing to the men opposite you. they laughed a little and slowly coughed when she gives them both a stern looking over.

"you leave her alone morgan, y/n isn't feeling well" emily scolded lightly, turning the page on her book.

"neither am i" he whines back, dramatically flopping his hand to his head.

"aww you poor baby" jj playfully mocked derek, coming back from the kitchen. she warmed a hot water bottle for you to have, her motherly instincts kicking in.

"there ya go" she gave you a sweet smile, standing up as she ruffled your hair. everytime a member of the team were sick, jj always made sure they were comfortable and rested. it was always without hesitation, always making you thankful there was someone in the team like her.

"how you feeling gumdrop?" garcia walks in with all her bags, setting them down as she feels your forehead. your frown is still fixated upon derek with whom you both start playfully bickering with each other

"hey hey, none of that sass mister. y/n is ill tonight, okay?" penelope narrows her eyes at him who blinks in shock.

"babygirl you're supposed to be on my side"

"hey i always am! but you, my delectable chocolate thunder, are getting on everyone's last nerve right now" she taps her pen at the end of his nose. he frowns in confusion but she settles beside him, giving him a nudge.

you give derek a cheeky smile knowing you've won that round and he narrows his eyes at you, knowing he would pay you back when you were better. you rolled the blanket over your head, cocooning yourself in a ball.

"are you feeling better, l/n?" hotch enters, settling in his usual place. you mumble a response from under the blanket, shivering slightly as the hot water bottle pressed firmly into your body. why was it so hard to warm up?

"hey l/n y'know-" derek begins but you cut him off with an annoyed sigh.

"leave me alone" you grumble under the warmth of your layers, hearing chuckles coming from the plane.

you feel something warm wrapped themselves around your lap and you stiffen, ready to tackle some sense into derek. but you see curly hair splayed on your lap. arms coming to snake themselves around your waist, beautiful honey eyes coming to give you some comfort. you relax, holding him that much closer

"never" spencer whispers, his hands coming to holds yours. his fingers interlaced with yours, he brings the back of your hand for a kiss, rubbing your knuckles tenderly. it felt so incredibly intimate, every part of you warming up to his affections.

he can't help but brush some hair back, just observing how beautiful you looked. even when you were sick, you had him in a trance that he never wanted to wake up from. he wants more, you feel his lips brush against your cheeks, breaths mingling until a pillow on your lap completely cuts you from your daze.

"get a room kid!"

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Weedequitte

Asks are open my little giggle biscuits!

Scout

He hands that joint back WET

Slobber dripping off the sides, the tips cold when you go to take a puff, and you can see the corner of his mouth glisten

If Scout ever got high he would have munchies and get scared. He would have to go outside and walk around, maybe even hug a tree for comfort

Coughing and gagging in the most annoying way possible. Like that one cat picture with its protruding tongue and watery eyes void of complex thought

Scout couldn’t handle a bong. Just couldn’t. Stick to a cold can of bang! He might try to make a bong outta a bang can, but he won’t figure it out

Soldier

Do not give him weed.

Do not give him anything.

Dont give him any drug hes insane nuts bonkers and, yes, even bananas

He took acid once by mistake. Ended up in Europe a year after the war ended

Soldier is borderline on a good day but king will spiral into a drug induced psychosis. There will be bugs, skin, and a whole lot of paperwork for Medic

Wouldn’t even smoke he’s a total fucking narc too

Says devils lettuce

Demoman

Uses every weed euphemism known to man

Mary J is his fav. Kush, grass, gas, doubie, all of them

Approaches Sniper while the poor bastard making his trek between camper and civilization. Demo does an insinuating chuckle and says, ‘let’s make love to that wee lass Mary J’

Sniper starts running

He prefers drinking but this guy smoked some grass back in the day. Doesn’t fuck around and can pass a blunt without falling out

In half baked, Demo is the guy who gets munchies and accidentally kills the horse

Will smoke with Sniper and always provides what he can or hits a curtesy role, but he doesn’t pursue weed much and if snipes didn’t share, probably wouldn’t smoke

It does help the pain from his missing eye!

Pyro

One time, he got wild.

Pyro burned down an entire pot grow and was absolutely spazzing off that za rolling his way down the mountain

They were on the astral plane the entire hike down. Pyro crashed through the trees, crawled, laughed hysterically, cried, and vomited. Pyro drank water from a creek thinking it was the fountain of immortality

Pyro befrinded a squirrle named Banabo Jo. He knew Jo and knew his people were wise and brave. Banabo Jo recognized Pyro’s mystical capabilities and ability to see beyond, thus creating a mutual respect and brotherhood.

Banabo Jo guided Pyro from the mountain top and into the Heart of the Valley. He watched over as Pyro awaited rescue and gave the sacred squirrel farewell through the van window

(hypersensitive to drug induced psychosis)

Heavy

Rolls a blunt on Medic’s back and smokes it while they fuck

Smokes weed but only pipes. Very rarely will roll with paper, typically in the aforementioned situation

He can do some of the smoke tricks like puffing out O’s. He cannot french inhale and tbh has a chronic stuffy nose 😏

Medic

Wholeheartedly believe in and support the usage of medical marijuana

Smoked a little weed in university, but his classmates were too scared of him to invite him to the smoke sesh

He kinda gives off narc vibes!! Completely chill though, unless he could gain from blackmailing you

Asks if Sniper wants to puff and Sniper is shocked! Medic uses pompous words like oder tho and not the German oder

Arches his back so Heavy can sprinkle some flower on him for the roll-hole ritual

Engineer

Scene in Top Gun, “we’re in the spirit world asshole!” HIM OKAY HIM

Builds intricate and sick as fuck bong structures, dab rigs, and some real crazy stoner shit.

He love getting blazed and tinker with something, but that did cost him the tip of his pinkie finger

He’s a lightweight and really just skims a hit or two and bounces

Totally hotboxes that fucking workshop

Spy

He’s a classy kind of smoker

No weed inside, at least not his house. Very discreet about it and even if he was just in the world’s foggiest hotbox, he would never snell like week

No weed smell ever it’s incredible

Mainly sticks to cigarettes but he will smoke with Sniper.

Smoking, whether it be weed or cigarettes, is a form of foreplay for them fr

He never has cotton mouth either

Sniper!!

Save the best for last bc he is a canon pothead

Sniper just tries to be a chill guy. Go to work, fire a gun, smoke some weed. Would he like more? Sure. But is he okay where he’s at? Good enough

The first to discover his gardening habit was Spy. The whole breaking and entering thing really gives away secrets

Sniper has SO MUCH TEA. Various team members come to him and smoke, which is cool with him. He prefers when they replenish his stash, though. Or at least give him something in return

When they smoke they also complain. Inhibitions are dropped and suddenly Sniper knows that Demo is pissed at Medic for not letting him drink rubbing alcohol, every though Demo knew it would kill him, because he and Pyro were trying to light a burp on fire

He only enjoys smoking with Spy and Ms. Pauling. Pauling is fun and they talk mad shit together, maybe do something stupid on a minor scale

Spy and Sniper venture into the bush if yk what im saying. Weed is just kinda a plus but Spy can get too zesty sometimes

[0vergrowngraveyard]

He still remembered the first time he called Tails “lil’ bro” out loud. The kit’s reaction was unforgettable.

It felt natural to Sonic. He’d already been referring to the kit as his little brother to cashiers and any other stranger who got nosy and asked what a blue hedgehog was doing with a two tailed fox kit without either of their parents around. They always gave him an odd look but that didn’t matter. He didn’t exactly care what these people he’d probably never see again thought of his and Tails’ little life. They weren’t in it so they didn’t get to have an opinion about it.

However, he apparently never voiced the whole little brother thing to the kit himself. Part of him didn’t think he needed to and that it was pretty obvious that they were basically family at this point. Sure it had only been a few months since they met, but Sonic only needed a few months to decide that this kid was his and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

In hindsight, he probably should’ve realized that Tails wouldn’t have come to that conclusion. He knew they were friends, best friends even, but Sonic could tell that the kid was still nervous about the whole situation between them. Whenever he thought he did something wrong, he always had this scared look in his eyes as he apologized over and over again. It was like he was still expecting the hedgehog to just dump him somewhere and leave him alone again.

There was also the chance that he just didn’t have a very good opinion of families. With his biological one being completely out of the picture and all, Sonic would have been surprised if it left a sour taste in his mouth. Then again, this theory hinged on the idea that he actually remembered his parents which he didn’t seem to, so it was safe to say that it probably wasn’t the case.

(There was a secret third option that had suggested that Tails simply didn’t see him as an older brother figure. Sonic didn’t like to think about that one too much.)

When he finally called Tails “lil’ bro” out loud, the kit stared up at him with the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They almost reminded him of the light blue chaos emerald with how much they were sparkling. Tails asked over and over if he meant it, that he really did see him as a little brother and barreled into the hedgehog when he confirmed. The kid pricked himself on a few quills but he didn’t seem to care, his namesakes spinning in happy circles all the same.

It had been maybe three weeks since then.

Tails never really called him his big brother in public, or in private really. Any time someone asked him who he was with, he’d just silently pointed over at Sonic. When asked what their relationship was, he just fidgeted nervously and ran over to the hedgehog, making it so that Sonic had to explain that they were brothers.

He never held it against the kit, figuring that he was just nervous. He was never comfortable around strangers for obvious reasons so it made sense that he wouldn’t talk to them.

He was just a quiet and anxious kid. That's all it was.

The memory faded away as the sound of a small coughing fit brought him back to reality. He slowly sat up and stretched, looking around their campsite for the source of the noise only to find the culprit where’d he’d been for the past few days now. Sonic sighed and made his way over to him.

The duo hadn’t moved in almost a week. Tails had caught a pretty bad flu and Sonic didn’t want to force him to fly around the zone or travel at supersonic speeds in general. He didn’t think that kind of thing would do him very good when what he needed was fluids and sleep.

Sonic sat down next to the sick kit who had conked out again after his quick coughing fit. He took his glove and put the back of his hand on the fox’s forehead. Tails was still burning up, his fur was damp with sweat and his sinuses still audibly congested as his small body fought off the intruder.

He sighed again as he put his glove back on. They were nowhere near any hospitals where the kid could lay down in an actual bed and be looked over by professionals. Instead, all he had was the ground, a pillow and blanket, and some broke eleven year old.

Luckily, Sonic had enough money to quickly run off and buy some medicine for the kid but that was pretty much it. His wallet was empty except for a few coins and they were running low on food. Last he checked, they only had two cans of chili left. That was dinner tonight and tomorrow, they’d have to skip breakfast and lunch which wasn’t good for the sick fox.

The medicine made Tails sleep for most of the day so he couldn’t see as Sonic’s worries and doubts started eating the hedgehog alive.

Had he made the right call when he decided to stop looking for a suitable family for the kit? What did he have to offer him, especially right now? He wasn’t fit to be watching over a little kid by any means. They ate the same thing every day, sometimes they didn’t eat at all, Sonic was far from a good influence, and their life was full of potential danger. Chaos, the kid had gotten grabbed by Robotnik a few times and almost used as a living battery for one of his robots.

To top it all off, Sonic himself was still a kid. What did he know about raising someone?

He loved Tails, he really did. Without fail, he looked forward to seeing him the next day and continuing their little adventure to save the island one zone at a time. He loved the little guy’s laugh, his smile, the way he tilted his head when he was confused and all his other quirks that made him who he is. For a bit, he kinda thought it was weird for an eleven year old to have a four year old best friend. But when that four year old just so happens to be the coolest kid you’ve ever met and will ever meet, it really can’t be helped.

But as much as he adored his little tagalong, this wasn’t something he could be selfish about. Part of him was starting to regret telling Tails that he saw him as family and getting his hopes up because if this didn’t work out after all-

“Mmm…Sonic?” A quiet little voice weakly called out as its owner temporarily returned to the waking world.

Sonic snapped out of his self loathing and directed his attention towards the kit, “Hey, bud. How you feelin’?” He asked, putting a hand on the kit’s head and gently petting him.

“m’body still aches… ‘nd m’nose is still stuff-“ he cut himself off with one sneeze, then another, “stuffy…”

He went to wipe his nose with his paw, but Sonic beat him to it as he cleaned off his little brother’s muzzle with a small scrap of cloth. “Well, you still feel pretty warm. You wanna try drinking some water?”

The kit’s watery eyes stared off into space as he thought about it before he gave a small nod that was barely visible. Sonic helped him sit up, wincing at how his ears drooped and how limp his tails were. The fox rubbed his eyes with the back of his paw and let out a squeaky yawn as Sonic fetched the big water bottle he had stolen from the pharmacy he got the medicine at.

(He probably could’ve stolen the medicine too and saved some money. What would they have done? Chase after him?)

He handed the bottle to the kit and put a hand on his back as Tails slowly brought the bottle to his mouth and drank, making sure not to spill any even in his state of delirium.

When he was done, he handed the bottle back to Sonic who put the cap back on and set it to the side. “That any better?”

Tails nodded, “mm-hm…it tasted good.”

Sonic chuckled at the kid’s slurred words, a firm indicator that he was once again fading quickly, “I’ll bet. Why don’t you lay back down and get some more sleep, bud.”

He nodded again and laid back down, tails weakly curling around him as Sonic tucked him in nice and snug.

“Sonic?”

“Tails?”

“Why’d you look sad earlier?” The fox asked, fighting against his heavy eyelids to stay awake a little longer.

The hedgehog blinked at him, “You were awake?”

Tails shifted a bit, “Mm…kinda..b’also kinda not..”

Sonic lifted his hand to the kit’s head, scritching behind his ear and trying to ignore just how warm he felt, “You sure you weren’t just imagining things? You might’ve just been out of it, kiddo.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, “i ‘unno..maybe..” he nuzzled into his pillow, “b’ you looked pretty upset…”

“I’m all good, bud.” Sonic promised, “You just gotta worry about getting better so we can get back to kick Ro-butt-nik’s butt, alright?”

Tails nodded and finally allowed his eyes to close, “M’sorry i got sick…”

“No need to apologize for that, lil’ bro.” He shook his head, “I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner, alright?”

“okay big bro…” was the last thing the fox managed to get out before he fell asleep for what would be the next few hours.

He continued scritching until he made sure the kit was out. He then pulled his hand back and just stared at him.

Big bro…

It shouldn’t have meant so much to him, it really shouldn’t have, but Sonic couldn’t help the smile that forced its way onto his muzzle as fondness filled his entire chest, squeezing him tight.

Never in a million years did he ever think he’d be called someone’s brother, let alone be part of a family. He always thought that kind of life would weigh him down and force him to stop moving.

He thought he’d hate it and yet here he was, in the middle of Hill Top Zone with the only person in Mobius he considered to be family.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

He placed the water bottle in arm’s length of the fox just in case as he picked up the dirty cloth and ran down to the river nearby to wash it off for later use. When he returned, he put it back in the backpack and got out their cooking supplies and a can of chili to start making dinner.

Maybe he wasn’t the most qualified to be looking after a four year old, but that didn’t mean he was about to quit just because he’d hit a rough spot.

This kid was his, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. Not even his own self doubts.

[babygirlbenji]

Prince Charming - Mason Mount

a/n i feel like i've used this gif before but i do not care! i'm off to a wedding so wanted to get this out! enjoy mwah <3

summary: just some fluff with mason and reader who is sick!

You hated being sick. 

The cough that had been racking your body for the last few days had reduced you to talking in croaky whispers, your whole body ached, you had no energy and all you could do if you weren’t sleeping was watching repeats of Friends. 

What made it even worse was that Mason wasn’t there to look after you and give you the love you so desperately needed to heal. He was in Manchester and you were stuck in London. To add insult to injury, you had planned to take the train up to the north west to see him and watch his game against Liverpool. You’d had to message him the day before, saying you weren’t going to be able to come up. He wanted nothing more than to look after his girl, but Ten Hag had been adamant that Mason would at least be on the bench for the game, if not in the starting lineup. 

It was just an all round bad situation. A long distance relationship was not necessarily what you signed up for, but you loved Mason more than anything in the world. You were both determined to make it work. 

On Friday night, you were tapping through your Instagram stories, looking at all your friends going out and celebrating the end of the working week. You sighed, which obviously turned into a coughing fit. With nothing else to do, you turned off the lights and curled up in bed, hoping that by morning, you would feel better and be able to watch Mason play. 

Or at least that was your plan. This plan was scuppered by your phone lighting up with Mason’s picture as he rang for a FaceTime. You shoved a hoodie on and ran your fingers through your hair in the hopes it would make you a little bit more presentable, before flicking the lamp by your bed on so you could speak to him. 

‘H-Hello,’ you croaked. His face was slightly pixelated through the dodgy WiFi in the hotel he was staying in, but he still managed to look like he’d walked off a Vogue shoot. Damn him, you thought to yourself. 

‘Hey sweet thing, how are you doing?’ Just the sound of his voice was enough to perk you up a bit, and you sat up. 

‘I’m… I’m okay, just tired and got this stupid bloody cold that’s had me bed bound the last two days. How are you?’ You could barely stifle the yawn that crept out of your mouth without any warning. 

‘Oh darling, I’m okay, just called because I’m worried about you, I’ve hardly heard from you the last couple of days and wanted to check in.’ Your heart swelled. You’d been together over two years, but he was still finding ways to make your dreams come true. He really was your Prince Charming. ‘I won’t keep you long as I know you’re sick, just wanted to say I love you and I miss you.’ 

The emotions you’d been feeling over the last couple of days boiled over, and your face crumpled as tears leaked from your eyes. 

‘I really, really miss you, Mase,’ you sobbed. ‘I feel awful, I can’t do any work, I haven’t seen you in like a fortnight, everyone’s going out and enjoying the sun while I’m stuck here on my own with not even Ben or Reece to keep me company as they’re in Timbuktu or something.’ Mason couldn’t help but chuckle at your melodramatics; Ben and Reece were not in Timbuktu, they were in fact in Southampton for their away game. He didn’t have the heart to mention this, though. 

‘I’m sorry, baby, I really am, I wish I could be there to help. Just focus on resting and getting better, okay? I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve finished this game, I promise.’ You sighed. You knew he couldn’t help being a professional footballer, and he loved playing with United, but you couldn’t help but feel like part of your soul went wherever he went. 

You chatted a bit more, or rather, he chatted while you listened to him, before he bade you goodnight and you were once again left with nothing but the sound of your fan blowing cool air on you to stop your fever spiking too high. It wasn’t long before your cold and cough medication kicked in, and you were out like a light. 

*

You awoke the next morning feeling like there was someone in your house. Ignoring the fact that your fever had gone and your airways felt clearer than they had in the last few days, you stepped out of bed and grabbed your phone from the bedside table. Fully prepared to call the police, you padded silently down the carpeted staircase and peeked into the kitchen. 

What you saw made another sob fall out of your mouth.

Mason was stood by the stove, wearing a United hoodie and track pants, while stirring something in a pot on the hob which you could only guess to be chicken soup. 

‘Mase?!’ He whirled around and grinned.

‘Hey babe!’ You summoned the energy to run over to him and throw your arms around his neck, relishing the contact of your bodies having been apart for nearly two weeks. 

‘What the hell are you doing here? I thought they wanted you to play?’ He kissed your temple and shrugged.

‘But I wanted to be here with you more. It wasn’t easy but I managed to negotiate it off. After our FaceTime last night I couldn’t be apart from you any longer. I couldn’t have you suffering here by yourself while Ben and Reece are in Timbuktu.’ You giggled at the reference to what you’d said the previous night, and hugged him harder, your head finding its usual spot just under his neck. He wrapped you up in his arms and rubbed your back. 

‘I can’t thank you enough, Masey, it means the world.’ You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

‘It’s the least I can do for my princess.’ And in that moment, with you curled up against his chest while he stirred chunks of chicken and vegetables in a thick broth, breathing in his glorious scent that could only the scent of home, you had absolutely no doubt in your mind that you really had found your Prince Charming. 

[luna0713hunter]

hii young!luffy x young!reader fluff inspired by the kiss scene in my girl? honestly u don't don't have to know the film you can just search up the scene! also it doesn't even have to be fully accurate all I'm really asking for is their first kiss

Author's note : hello there!so abt this request;i havent watched my girl ,but I've searched abt it and gosh they're so adorable?!?!maybe I'll watch it this week!

My Girl

Monkey d. Luffy x reader

Warnings : lots of fluff,young!Luffy x young!reader, you're both 10 btw

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

Your mother always used to tell you that you'll find your true love when you grew up.

But you found love a little bit too early.

It was a sunny summer day. Those days where the weather is both too hot to go outside but staying inside is not an option either. So with small hands interlocked,you and your long time best friend,Luffy,go to your usual hanging spot : Shanks' ship.

The crew were all outside, perhaps that was the reason why the two of you had entered without anyone telling you that you're too young for being on a pirate ship. But when you sit down on the wooden surface and spread your small picnic basket that Makino had packed,you give Luffy a blinding smile and offer him a small sandwich.

And true to his fashion ,Luffy swallows whole the entire piece in one go.

You huff and smack his hand away from your share,and glare at him, "dont eat so fast or you'll get an stomachache!"

"nuh uh!i can eat the whole basket and still be hungry!"

"well too bad!!Makino packed this lunch for both of us!so you have to share!"

Luffy pouts but complies, choosing to grab an apple instead and munch on it slower this time.

There's a moment of silence before Luffy opens his mouth and the world stops.

"hey,y/n?'

"yeah?"

"have you ever kissed anyone?"

You loudly choke on your food.

Luffy jumps up and gives you a bottle of water,and with concerned eyes,rubs your back.

"you alright?!"

You cough and try to wipe your eyes from the tears that had formed.

"w-why would you ask that?"

Luffy sits across you crossed leg and shrugs.

"i saw some couple kissing in the bar last night,and it got me thinking," he then looks at you and grins, "so?have you?"

You shake your head furiously as you feel your cheeks heating up with each passing second, "of course not! I'm only ten!"

"but Makino says love has no age."

Your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open, "L-love?" You swallow and your voice suddenly drops;like you're scared somebody will hear you, "who do you love,Luffy?"

And he answers without missing a bit that it gives you whiplash.

"you of course!who else!?"

His answer makes you shut your mouth so fast,that you cringe upon the sound of your teeth clattering. You cant speak;what can you say to his confession? But when you see him staring at you expectedly,you swallow and gather your courage to speak again.

"Luffy," you wet your lips before continuing, "i think loving someone romantically is different than... loving your parents or..Shanks and Makino."

Luffy tilts his head,and you smile upon seeing his adorable puppy like eyes.

"but y/n,i know i love you. Why would i mistake it?"

"how do you know it's different?"

Luffy folds his arms against his chest and takes a moment to consider your question.

"its like," he wonders aloud, "when i see you its different from when i see Shanks or Makino. My heart gets all..mushy mushy,"

"mushy mushy?!"

"Yeah!" He grins and nods rapidly, " it beats really hard,and i want to share my foods with you!!i never want to do that with Shanks or others!!"

And to Luffy, sharing food is a big deal.

You shyly glance away and start fidgeting with your fingers, "so... you've been thinking about kissing..." You swallow, "me?"

Luffy nods again and skootched toward your until your knees are pressing together.

"do you...want to try it?"

"kissing?"

"mhm."

You give him a shy smile and with a final nod,Luffy leans forward with his eyes squeezed shut,and presses his lips clumsily against yours.

The kiss is sweet and short;the taste of the apple that he had earlier lingering on your lips even when he pulls away.

You wish you could taste it once again.

"so," Luffy nervously bounces his knee, "how was it?"

You giggle and leave a small peck on his nose,making him scrunch it up.

"it was...sweet."

"sweet?"

"yeah. I liked it."

The words seemed to make Luffy beam,as his grin becomes impossibly wider.

"I'm glad!!!"

Before either of you can say another word, there's the sound of another pair of footsteps and soon, Shanks' playful voice calls out for the two of you.

"you kids better not be here again!!"

And when Luffy takes your hand and with giggles ,runaway from the ship,you cant help but to feel your heart beating loud,and being warm just like the summer sun.

-

"hey," a snap of finger in front of your face brings you back from your daydreaming, "whatcha thinking about?"

You smile at the boy in front of you;his taller form and muscular arms and shake your head.

"just remembering some good memories."

"oh?am i in any of them?"

You glance at him and when you see his warm chocolate brown eyes,you close your own and sigh contently.

"yeah. You're the main character in all of my dreams and memories."

[myhaikyuuacademia]

Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||

This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back

Fake dating, fem!reader

@foxxyhun

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway.  Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down.  “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”

“Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.

When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Woah, your room is awesome.”  Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. ��What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.

“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You  leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded.  Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.

[ledalasombra]

Yes, And?

Even though I had a lot of things half finished, this story stuck in my head... It kind of starts with nothing and ends with nothing... just a snippet of something... you know...

Yes, And?

Ladybug was chatting animatedly with Robin and Superboy during a break in the Justice League's bi-monthly meetings when she was approached by Kid Flash, who stopped next to her.

“Hello Ladybug, how are you on this wonderful day?” he commented with a slight smile, crossing his arms in front of her, seeing her respond with a friendly smile. “I was wondering if today would be the day we could have that dinner we talked about a few weeks ago…”

“Kid Flash, it's a pleasure to see you again” she said with her smile missing a little, as well as her excitement “Like I said the last time we talked, I don't believe this is a good idea. I don’t usually go out on dates with people while we’re in costume.”

“Maybe then we just need to meet outside of it…”

“I'm going to stop you right now Kid Flash. She already said she's not interested, so get lost…” Robin cut him off before Kid Flash could even continue, seeing the heroine force a smile in their direction. Before she could even comment anything, the group was called to return to the meetings, making everyone go to their place.

Robin stopped before he even entered the room. “Since when has he been trying to court you?” Robin commented seriously.

“I don’t think that’s important.” she commented looking at him and smiling again “Let’s go or we’ll end up being late.”

“Don’t think this matter is finished” he commented very quietly next to her.

"What subject? I don't know what you're talking about” she replied, smiling widely and leaving him with an irritated expression throughout the meeting. For some time, Robin tried to go back or find out more about the whole story, but noted that she would not comment, so he let the matter drop much against his will.

ººººº°°°°°ººººº

The following week, Ladybug was entering the Justice League's Main Hall, talking to Superboy about the reports they needed to deliver on a mission they had just returned from, when she was approached by Shazam, asking to speak to her in private. The request was readily accepted, but Superboy could detect a certain note of caution in her tone, which made the young man pay attention to the conversation, even though he knew it wasn't correct.

Superboy watched the two walk away, seeing Ladybug leave her body slightly tense. He found his friend's attitude strange, understanding as soon as he started to hear the conversation. Just after a few minutes of Shazam and Ladybug walking away, Robin approached Superboy, frowning as he watched the two talk further away, without really understanding what was happening. But before he even questioned it, Superboy signaled him to stay quiet to try to better understand the context of what was going on. He looked at Robin with a perplexed expression that couldn't be seen by the two who were further away since the young Kryptonian had his back to the two magic users.

“Ah Ma..” he stopped talking when he saw her expression, forcing a cough “Ladybug, come on, we talked about this movie last week. We commented on how incredible it would be, we could totally make time to go. Then we could stop by that restaurant we know. It would certainly be a great way to end the night… You know”

“Shazam, we are friends and I would certainly love to go with you and other friends of ours. What do you think? So, that wouldn’t lead people to come to the wrong conclusion about our friendship, wouldn’t it?” she commented calmly, still smiling and looking at the adult in front of her. They both knew each other outside the mask, outside the context of the entire Justice League. She had already noticed his interest in her and, on several occasions, hinted that she did not have the same interest as him. Or at least she thought she made that clear.

“Oh, uh… I was hoping that maybe we could turn this into a date of sorts?” he commented, somewhat embarrassed and hopeful.

"What happened?" Robin asked Superboy tensely, looking at Shazam and Ladybug from afar “What are they talking about that you need me to be quiet about?

“I didn’t know they knew each other outside of the mask” Superboy commented “and apparently they’re good friends.”

Robin frowned, looking at Superboy who smiled in surprise at the conversation. “What are they talking about?” The young vigilante asked, which came out much more like a demand than a question.

“Nothing much, he’s just asking her out… movies and dinner. It’s a good date, not bad.” He said with a slight smile “But the way she spoke to him I think she was already expecting something like that and I don’t think he’ll have much luck considering the way her breathing changed…”

Superboy didn't finish speaking as he soon saw that Robin was walking towards the two with long strides. He shook his head and headed to the room where the three would have a brief meeting about the mission they had just returned from. But one thing wouldn't leave the young man's mind: why doesn't he talk to Ladybug about his feelings for her right away? With the number of suitors she had, he would certainly end up losing the chance he still had...

Robin walked away from Superboy irritated and muttering profanities in Arabic about the entire situation. He took a deep breath quickly, stopping next to Ladybug and Shazam, managing to hear part of the young heroine's response.

“Oh…” she said in surprise, looking at him “Bi-Shazam. I, uh…, I don't really know what to say, but I really don't think this is a good idea. We..” she commented somewhat awkwardly, however she was immediately cut off by Robin, as he abruptly stopped next to her.

“Shazan, if you allow us, Ladybug and Superboy need to come with me to finalize the data for the mission we were on. Maybe you can talk another time” he said between his teeth, controlling himself so as not to cause any kind of ‘incident’.

“We’ll talk another time, ok?” Ladybug said goodbye quickly with a slight smile, waving at him as she walked away and followed Robin to the meeting room, where Superboy was waiting. She dropped her shoulders, taking a deep breath, caught up in her thoughts.

“Was he asking you out?” He said through his teeth “This is very unprofessional…”

“Don’t get me wrong Robin, but I’d rather not discuss it at the moment. Let's finish all this I'm tired and certainly a shower, food and my bed would be the highlight of my day or night whichever you prefer..” she spoke in a way to put the matter aside, gesturing widely with her hands. “And for the record Superboy, I expected more from you about listening to other people's conversations…” she said, sitting down and ending the subject.

The meeting ended after a little over 30 minutes, causing the team to disperse. Ladybug opened a portal directly to her apartment, where she dropped her transformation and headed for a long, hot shower. She had a quick snack with a croissant that she had left ready that morning and some tea, heading to bed soon after. Although it was a peaceful mission, the excess magic she needed to use left her exhausted and the only thing she needed at the moment was sleep. When she saw her cell phone light up with an incoming voice call, Marinette sighed deeply, ignoring the message and going to sleep. She turned off the sound from the device, leaving it face down on the table next to the bed and going to sleep. "This will be a problem for tomorrow's Marinette.." she whispered in the dark, closing her eyes and being hugged by Morpheus.

Robin saw Ladybug say goodbye as she merged her transformation by opening a portal soon after. Despite being calmer, he still expressed irritation at the entire conversation he heard, sighing deeply when he saw her entering the portal she created and it closing soon after. The young man looked at the place where the portal was for a few more seconds, turning around to leave the room and get to the Zeta tubes, to return home, however he was approached by Superboy on the way. He sighed, massaging his still frowning forehead, watching his friend speak.

“Robin, you should really talk to her and tell her how you feel. If you have to act like this every time someone hits on her, this place will become unsustainable.”

The young man looked at him seriously, walking back to the door. "I don't know what you are talking about. I don’t think you should worry about that."

ººººº°°°°°ººººº

Damian was already reasonably irritated with the entire situation that was occurring in the Justice League Watchtower. He was leaving his last class of the morning at Gotham University when he heard Marinette talking to one of their classmates, Anthony William Tabot Walton. He was in the same class as Marinette and Damian, being an insufferable person who, apparently, couldn't take no for an answer.

“I don’t think your invitation to lunch is a good idea Anthony. You certainly understand that I have no interest in going out with you, as I have said before.” Marinette commented politely, with a forced smile on her face, which didn't seem very convincing to young Walton.

Walton looked her up and down with a slight smile on his face. “Could we go to an Italian restaurant, something casual? You look like you could use some fun…”

Damian bristled, the audacity of this wanker. Having heard enough, Damian approached, stopping between the two, looking at Walton. “Did you ask her out?” he asked, then looking at Marinette who was relieved.

“Yes and if you would excuse us, we are trying to discuss the details…”

“And you were intending to accept?” Damian cut him off, turning his attention and asking Marinette.

“No, in fact I just told Monsieur Walton that I have no interest in the matter.” She replied with a serious expression. He glanced at her quickly, returning his attention to Anthony.

“You already have your answer. Now if you'll excuse us” he said, making to leave, but turned towards him again “stop harassing her. Oh, and if you bother her again I will make you regret your choices for the rest of your pathetic life.” he commented, taking her arm and leading her to the parking lot next to where they were. It was already empty, all the university students were already heading home or to the cafeteria.

“Damian… That was so unkind” she said, letting go of her arm that he was still holding, moving away a little, however her eyes said just the opposite.

“He shouldn't be insisting so much after so long” he complained, stopping in front of the car and opening the door for her to enter. He knew what he needed to do, but his pride didn't help much. He closed the door, turned around and got into the car on the driver's side.

“Is that all you have to say about it?” she looked at him, arching her eyebrow.

He sighed as if it physically pained him to say, “I’m sorry”

She grinned, pleased with the outcome of the situation “Yes, and?” she spoke as she approached him.

Damian sighed deeply, turning his head towards her and removing a strand of hair that had fallen in her face, his lips in a line, knowing what was coming. “And yes, you were right.”

“Um…” she gave a slight smile at the admission of the boy in front of her, looking at him with her blue eyes “And?” She lightly crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly, she was visibly having fun with the whole situation. After all, he was the one who let things get to that point.

Damian's stomach fluttered. He was usually composed, but nothing about Marinette made him feel ordinary. He knew he was madly in love with her, with that extraordinary woman. He released all the air he had in his lungs, taking a deep breath, knowing what he needed to say. After all, she was right in almost every case. “And…” he looked into her eyes, taking his hands to her hips, bringing her closer, letting both their lips almost touch “… maybe we should start telling people about us.”

She smiled lightly, shaking her head slightly in denial at the stubbornness of the man in front of her, slightly lifting her head and meeting him for a brief, passionate kiss. “We really should. If we had done that, I certainly wouldn't have had to go through some pretty unpleasant conversations.…”

He growled, finding his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. “You were right, none of them would be trying to court you and treating you like you had no mind of your own, like Walton did, if they knew we were together.”

She smiled happily at her boyfriend's admission. “Come on…” she said, taking his hand. “We can discuss further how we will do this in my apartment.” she commented, moving away a little and adjusting her seat belt. She certainly wouldn't stop saying 'I told you so' at least once by the end of the day...

[idyllcy]

and on and on, i'll be by your side

word count: 11.9k

warnings: non-explicit sex, unstable family relationship (reader)

summary: senior year romance means everything from fluff to angst to teenage hormones

"I like you. let's date."

Jason chokes on his water, coughing as you hand him a napkin to wipe off the water.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Let's date?"

"before that."

"I like you." You blink at him, raising a brow. "What? Can't believe it?"

"No. I was not expecting to get confessed to on the first FUCKING DAY OF SENIOR YEAR." He hisses. "Why are you even asking me out? You had a crush on some other guy all the way until like before junior year ended."

"Yeah..." You tap your chin. "You see, I had a revelation over summer while we studied at the library together."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Well too bad!" You shrug, smile on your lips. "I thought, hey, I've kinda been on and off with my feelings with you for a while now, why not just get the closure I need?"

"So you asked me out without expecting me to accept your confession?" Jason hands you the second sandwich Alfred packed.

"Yeah!" You hum. "Thank you."

"And if I accept your confession?"

"Then we date." You shrug. "I have no L in this situation."

"What if I leave you hanging?"

"I have one L in this situation." You grimace. "You're not that mean, right?"

Three years. Jason Todd has been in love with you for three whole years — sitting through your hopeless rants about how attractive you found the most mediocre guys in the school, on the verge of going insane when he had practically turned into your ideal type only for you to pat him on the chest and tell him he'd definitely pull. Jason Todd had not expected you to casually drop the bomb that you had liked him on and off or the question of dating on the first day of senior year, the two of you sitting in your shared English teacher's classroom. He can feel his teacher's eyes on the back of his head as he stares at you incredulously.

"I'm not that mean," He shakes his head, heart racing in his head. "We..."

You look at him expectantly.

"Is it taking advantage of you if I agree to date you?" He winces.

"Nope! If anything, it could be me taking advantage of you." You beam. "Is that a yes?"

"Uh, yeah." Jason really hopes this doesn't come to bite him in the ass later. "Sure. Let's date."

You grin. "Should I call you babe?"

"Too fast." Jason deadpans. "If you don't finish that half of the sandwich I'm going to take it."

You gasp in fake offense. "I'm savoring it."

"Not with the lunch bell ringing in five minutes."

"I hate you." You grumble, going back to your sandwich. "What do people who date even do?"

"Well, they—"

"If you pull a single date idea from one of your classics I will throw this sandwich at your face."

"Alfred's hard work!" Jason raises a brow. "You dare disrespect that?"

"Either this or my backpack." You mumble, finishing the sandwich. "The backpack it is."

"I was going to say we could start with the park, but if you're going to smack me with your backpack, then I'd say we just break up." Jason jests.

"World's fastest breakup." You mumble. "We could break a world record with that."

"That's impossible. Someone out there has broken up faster than this. Also, I never said we'd break up." He mumbles. "I was threatening you."

You shrug, the bell going off.

"What's your next class?"

"I sent you my schedule like two weeks ago!" You gasp. "You didn't memorize it?"

"Alright," Jason sighs. "What's my next class?"

"Creative Writing. Bingo, loser."

"You can't do this to me." Jason grumbles.

"Oh, I can and I will." You grin.

"Have fun in your TA period." Jason walks in the other direction.

"You did memorize it?!" You yell at him in the hall as he walks off. "Liar!!!"

Jason ignores you, speeding up instead. The realization would settle in later, he thinks. The realization that after three years of pathetic pining on his end, you had asked him out on the first day of senior year with no will to continue living in Gotham. It was uncertain. Maybe you were just using him so you could say you had a boyfriend in high school. He would let himself get used, as long as it was you. In that case, he might as well put in the full effort to have you fall harder. Starting with... your ideal date, he supposes.

He sighs, looking through the list of books you had sent him earlier during summer that you completed, grimacing at how many questionable ones you had read. Though, that's not his problem. The two of you loved reading, even if they were totally different genres. Thankfully on his end, you had ranked them based on how much you liked them. He starts with the first book, a long night ahead of him.

"Red."

"Hm?" Jason holds down the thug with his foot. "What?"

"Are you listening to an audiobook on duty?"

"What of it?" Jason knocks the man out with the back of his gun.

"Why are you listening to smut while on duty?"

"Little wing, did you get a girlfriend?"

"What?"

"Why else would you be listening to romance while on the job? Obviously for research."

"He could also have a crush."

"I think it's his friend from school." Dick reasons. "He's had a crush on her since forever—"

"Oh my god, can you both shut up?"

"Get back to work." Bruce's voice rings on the line. "I don't care what he's listening to. As long as he's getting the job done."

Jason lingers in the city once patrol is over, scouting out an area to take you that wasn't the park. You hadn't looked that excited for the park when he joked about it. You did mention an arcade at some point early on in your friendship, and there was one in the area. Jason would have to take you by bike there. It'd be hard to park in the area. He pauses at the sight of the mall. You work there, huh?

"Where?"

"Mall. Are you deaf?"

"I have work this weekend." You blink at Jason. "Did you forget?"

"You dumbass. You work in the mall. I'll take you after work."

"I'm going to be all sweaty and gross!" You grimace.

"You sweat from a gift shop job?" He raises a brow.

"That was an excuse. I'm going to be dressed in a white tee and jeans. I'm barely going to look presentable." You frown.

"I'l give you my jacket. We can match."

"And have your chest out for the whole world to see? No." You deadpan. "Oh... maybe a compression shirt."

"What was it about not letting the world see my chest?"

"If you're going to wear something slutty I wanna match. You can wear your baseball jacket." You tap your chin. "Or we can both wear tees and jeans. I wanna wear a compression shirt too..."

Jason contemplates the idea of letting the world see your chest.

"No complaints?" You tilt your head.

"Wear what you want. I can fight." He smiles.

"Omg," You gasp. "Like a booktok boyfriend!"

"I'm defenestrating you."

"Jokes on you I'd be into it." You grin, eyes crinkling from how hard you were.

"Do you want me to bring you a change of clothes?"

"No. I'll just wear my tee and jeans." You hum. "And your jacket?"

"And my jacket." Jason takes it off, helping you into it. "There."

"You can wear a white tee and jeans." You smile. "And bring a sharpie. I want to draw on your shirt."

"Got it." He hums. "Anything else you want?"

"Can you bring me coffee?"

"Your usual?"

"Yes please."

"Alright."

The rest of your friend group tells you you seem to be happier these days. You joke that it's because you're ahead on your college apps. They don't pester you beyond that. You're glad they don't. You don't know what kind of madness your friend group would pull if they found out you were dating your best friend. They'd probably... you don't want to think about it.

"Hey," Jason hums, handing you your cup of coffee as you step out of the store, shift over.

"Hi," You hum, pressing the coffee to your lips. "Thank you."

Jason fishes out a Sharpie from his pocket next, handing it to you as you find a place to sit down, the smell of the pen filling the air as you scribble weird characters onto his back.

"What are you drawing?"

"The skrunkly." You mumble.

"The soots from Spirited Away?"

"Yes."

Jason waits for your to finish, handing you his phone to take a photo of your artwork. You click into his BeReal instead, taking a photo of his back and then of you, sharpie still in hand. You are picking violence today. Does this count as a hard launch? You don't know. All you know is that the baseball team is going to jump Jason for not telling them he has a girlfriend. You type out a caption, handing him his phone back as he stares at the drawings.

"You should apply as an art major."

"I don't have a portfolio." You deadpan. "Unless you count the shirt."

"Or the sketchbooks full of our classmates' faces."

"Or that." You close the sharpie, putting it in your pocket. "Where to?"

"I brought my car. You wanna go anywhere?"

"I wanna go... with you? To your home?" You pat his shoulder twice. "I'm kidding. Let's hit up the arcade."

"Sure." Jason hums. "Oh, did you get sharpie on my skin?"

"Want me to check?"

"Please."

You run your hand under his shirt, lifting it as you check for marks. You pause, admiring his back.

"You've got a lot of scars."

"You know what it's from."

"Your nighttime activities."

Jason can practically see you wriggling your brows at him.

"Yeah. Call it that."

"Can I be part of that?"

"Depends how you want to be part of it." Jason hums. "No marks?"

You let his shirt fall back down.

"None."

"Shall we go?"

"Let's." You hum, standing up with him, slipping your hand into his, the two of you head for the escalators.

Jason SUCKS at dance dance revolution.

You discover it after hitting the arcade, his weird skills in pulling out plushes from the crane machine and his eerily good aim at shooting games knocking the air out of you, but you find that no matter how fast he was on his feet as Red Hood, he sucks at dance games. Which brought you to this point.

Jason gawks at how high your score is.

You laugh, tickets spilling out from the machine, holding the bar as Jason stares at his score, offended a score that low could even exist.

"I kicked Dick's ass last time we played."

"Sure, totally believe you." You grin. "How many years ago was that? Four? Five?"

"I'm going to defenestrate you."

You snort. "I thought I told you I'm into that."

"From the top of Wayne Tower?"

"I'll call Dick for help." You hum. "He'll save me with that tight suit of his o—"

Jason slams a hand over your mouth, glaring at you.

"I'm kidding." You pull his hand away. "Why would I ask him for help when my boyfriend is right here? Oh, right. My boyfriend's the one defenestrating me. I should call Tim instead. He'd probably be in the building anyway."

"Sweetheart."

"Or maybe your dad. He'd probably be in the building too."

"Babe."

"Or I'll just fall to my death and force you to live with the guilt of—"

Jason grabs you by the face, glaring at you. "That's enough."

You jut out your lips, grinning. "Are we about to kiss?"

"Too fast." Jason sighs, letting go. "Are you happy with your plushies or do you want more?"

"How many more coins do you have?"

"Sixteen."

"Can I get three more?"

"Which ones do you want?"

You hold onto the bag of plushies as Jason wins you four more, the coins running out and a laugh spilling past his lips when you ask him for help. It was nice to not play at a rigged crane game, but Jason's ability to pull every single plush on the first try was baffling.

"Hey, how are we getting home? Didn't you take your bike?"

"I drove today." He deadpans. "Your memory game is still real strong, huh?"

You gasp, feigning shock. "I have GREAT memory."

"When's my birthday?"

You purse your lips. "Can you get my phone?"

"I'm hurt."

"August 16." You laugh. "I celebrate it with you every year. Did you actually think I didn't know?"

"You have terrible memory."

"I'm offended." You grumble. "We can split the children."

"Shared custody?"

"We're not... divorced?" You raise a brow at him. "Unless this is a breakup call—"

"Nope. Which ones do you want?"

"I want the franchised ones."

"So like, more than half of them."

"I'm kidding. I want the Nightwing one."

"Not the Red Hood one?"

"I didn't finish saying which other ones I wanted. I want all the Batman-themed ones." You mumble. "Especially the Red Hood one."

"Why the plush," Jason leans down, lips to your ear, blowing on it, "when I'm right here?"

"Are you saying you'll stay at my place forever?" You raise a brow at him, leaning back.

"I don't see why not."

"Absolutely not. My parents would have a heart attack if I brought a boy home." You grumble. "You've met them before."

"They've seen me. They've never met me." Jason shrugs. "Do they know you're on a date?"

"No." You hum. "I can tell them you dropped by and we were at the arcade."

"They're fine with us hanging out?"

"They just don't want me to date. Not when college app season is in swing, at least." You pause. "Where are you going?"

"Gotham, obviously."

"Ugh." You grumble. "Wish you'd leave the city with me."

"Can't."

"I know." You mumble. "You have to stay."

"And you have to go."

There's beauty in Gotham, you admit, but it's not the city you can see yourself living in the long term. Not even when your boyfriend would make sure you never die or get hurt. Not even if his entire family ran around keeping the city safe. You wouldn't be able to live in a city like this, even if you were used to the spontaneous kidnappings and death threats floating around the city. Even if you were used to the life in Gotham, you couldn't see yourself continuing down the road.

"What happens to us after high school?" You grimace.

"We'll figure it out." Jason hums. "Enjoy what we have for now."

The drive home is quiet, a silence that's comfortable for the two of you. It's a silence that rests in the air when the two of you are too tired to talk to each other, familiar to the two of you, a constant in your lives. You bring everything upstairs, falling asleep immediately, too tired to explain where the plushies came from and why you had been gone for so long.

Jason watches as you apply to the bigger schools, a thousand extracurriculars tucked behind your application, a hundred awards to cram into the five slots. You had more than he could imagine. He knew you had been an overachiever, but he hadn't known how hard you worked. It showed on your application, and it showed in December when you were accepted into your dream school with a full ride.

"You're leaving for good, then?" He rests his head on your shoulder, watching as you accept the offer.

"Yeah." You chew on the straw to your milk, puffing air into your cheeks.

"Will you miss me?"

"Babe, it's December." You remind.

"Yeah, but will you miss me?"

"I'll miss you more if you take me to Winter Formal."

"I already have a proposal in plan. Be patient." He grumbles, biting into his apple. "Are you going to ask me to Winter Formal?"

You smile. "Apple."

Jason sticks his tongue out, a piece of laminated paper on his tongue, glancing at the words.

"Yes. I'll go to Winter Formal with you. How'd you even get the paper in there?"

"Secret." You laugh. "I rolled it up and jammed it in there and then put edible paint on to cover the marks."

"Creative." He grins. "Love you."

The two of you stare at each other as you register Jason's words, and your lips part before closing again.

"You love me?" You crane your neck to look at him better.

"You don't?"

You laugh. "I love you too."

"Maybe I should apply there." He mumbles.

"You can't leave Gotham."

"It's not that I can't." He corrects. "it's just that I don't want to."

"Right, right." You nod. "But it's fine. Gotham needs you."

"Yeah." He mumbles. "That's not far, is it? I can still visit."

"Yeah." You hum. "No. It's four hours."

"Oops."

You laugh. "We'll figure something out."

Jason matches with you for Winter Formal, showing up with your favorite flowers, flowers matching the color of your dress and his corsage, your house empty for the night. Jason wonders some days why you never introduce him to your parents, but it's not his place to pry. He had terrible parents on his own. He doesn't even want to think about what could have happened had his birth mom gotten the chance to ruin his life like she wanted to. But it didn't matter, especially not when Winter Formal is crashed by a supervillain and he's forced to take action.

You laugh when he finishes, hand held out to help you from the ground. His siblings are scattered throughout, Dick and Bruce talking to Gordon, debriefing the whole situation. He lingers by you, checking your skin for any injuries of sort.

"Sorry Winter Formal got ruined." He mumbles through the helmet.

You pat his chest twice. "Can we get Batburgers?"

"With my helmet on?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever you want."

"Yeah, we can," He hands you his car keys, swinging onto a nearby roof to change out of his clothes, mask off. You open the door for him as he slides in, the two of you one of the last to leave. "You aren't mad Winter Formal got ruined?"

"No. I like seeing you in action." You smile. "Besides, your brother—"

"We have got to do something about your addiction to Nightwing." He grumbles, driving off. "Drive through or walk in?"

"Drive through." You observe the helmet. "Does this have any defense mechanisms?"

"If you try to pry it off my head, it cuts your finger. The needle has poison on it too."

"Damn." You mumble. "Anything else?"

"It's got a bomb built in."

"WHAT." You blink at him. "You can self-destruct?!"

"Mhm." He hums. "Your regular order?"

"Can I get ice cream?"

"Yeah."

You pull the bobby pins from your hair as he orders, staring at yourself in the vanity mirror. There are a couple of bloodstains on your dress that definitely don't belong to you, and you spot the same stains on Jason's dress shirt, tie loosened and unbuttoned to relax a little. You wonder why they targeted your school's dance. They could have gotten more money if they held the nearby private school hostage. You shrug as Jason pulls up to the window to pay.

"Here." He hands you your order as he pulls into a nearby parking lot, his own order on his lap.

"Why'd you think they targeted our school?"

"Because of me," Jason bites into his burger. "Billionaire's son."

"The private school has more rich kids." You reach for a napkin.

"Yeah, but my father's a billionaire. Those kids are all millionaires. Their net worth isn't even worth mine."

"True, huh."

"Are you sure Winter Formal wasn't ruined?"

"No. I got to see your tits bounce while you fought."

"Deadass?"

"No. Your chestplate kept it in tact." You chuckle. "I'd like to see you shirtless sometime."

"Why not now?"

"I am not fucking you in an empty parking lot at 2am."

"Really?"

"I am not letting that be my first time."

"Alright, fair enough." He mumbles. "Where should our first time be?"

"Forgot you're a virgin despite the body." You lick your fingers clean of the sauce. "Don't ask me."

"You wanna fuck in Bruce's room?"

"NO."

"Not a hotel."

"Definitely not a hotel."

"In the Batcave?"

"Jason, I love you, but we are NOT fucking somewhere where your dad can catch us on the cameras."

"Your house."

"No."

"Then where?" He picks up his soda, blinking. "College dorm."

"I'll let you fuck me at the hotel I'll be at before moving in for college." You shove the spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

"Bet." He grins. "I'm holding you to that."

Jason's ability to drive in Gotham surprises you some days. The two of you have been to every corner of the city, even to the places the two of you are definitely not allowed to visit. The abandoned factories, the galas that you never receive invitations to, everything from head to toe had been visited before. But every place is an adventure, even when the two of you are laying in the grass of Gotham's empty parks, naming the shapes in the sky, bloody red mixed with a sickly green. You find that it reminds you of Jason's eyes, pretty grass-colored irises reminding you of flower fields.

"What shape is that?"

"I don't know," You mumble, staring at his face. "I'm not looking anymore."

"What are you looking at?" He raises a brow at you.

"Your eyes." You blink at him, a stupid smile on your face. Jason looks at you with the same smile on his face. The smile of two idiots in love.

"Yeah? What about them?"

"They're pretty." Your fingers press to his chest for support as you lean in closer, staring right into them. "They look like the fields in the Alps. Like a cottage in the fields I wished I lived in, like the comfort of the morning dew that helps ground me."

"You like my eyes that much?"

"I like everything about you." You mumble.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Always."

Jason kisses you with fervor — passion you forget he has sometimes. He kisses you like you're the last person in the world, making your lashes flutter and head spin from the taste of his lips, your nails digging into his biceps, moan slipping past your lips as his fingers dig into your waist to pull you to sit up. You pull away with a hard inhale, Jason chasing after your lips immediately, hands flying to your face, tongue pressed to yours, barely breathing himself. You wonder if his lungpower came with the vigilante business. You certainly can't keep up, pushing him away at some point, panting.

"One more."

"No." You grumble. "Can't breathe. Head spin. I'm going to die."

"Most that'll happen is you'll pass out." He grins.

"No more." You point at him, eyes hard. "I'm not passing out at a park... or getting arrested for public indecency."

Jason laughs, pulling you close, resting his head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist snuggly. You frown, running your hands through his hair, closing your eyes to see if you can listen to his heartbeat with how close his chest was pressed to yours. You hum gently, letting the vibrations rumble between the two of you, the sun peeking past the clouds in Gotham for once. You wonder how many more times you would get to do this.

"Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to miss you." You mumble into his skin. "A lot."

"I'll drive up to you every weekend."

"That's four hours and a shit ton of tolled routes." You mumble.

"Daddy's got money to spare."

You laugh, leaning further into Jason's body, smile making way onto your face again. "Yeah? How about you fly over?"

"Wow, babe, I thought you cared about my carbon footprint."

"Then go by boat." You hum.

"Not a bad idea. You want a rich boyfriend who knows how to sail?"

"And get to brag to all those rich kids who can't date for shit about it? Yeah." You hum. "Plus, you'd look so hot sailing while shirtless in nothing but swim trunks."

"You think about me shirtless more than I can imagine." He rubs soothing circles on your waist. "What else do you think about?"

"Think about your tits."

"Pecs, baby."

"Think about biting them."

"In a—"

"In a completely normal way. Just. The urge to bite and squish?"

"In the neurodivergent way?"

"Yeah." You hum. "But I also think about you at night."

"Oh?"

"Worry about you. Who's going to patch you up when I'm gone?"

"Alfred."

"Yeah, but," You swallow. "I won't know if you're alive or awake the next day."

"I can text you."

"I should just take you with me." You sigh. "Pack you in my suitcase."

"You want me to go to college with you?"

"Yeah." You mumble blissfully. "In my perfect world."

Jason opens his mouth before you cut him off by pulling away from him.

"Jay," You mumble. "Do you think we're going to break up?"

"Do you?"

"I hope not." You mumble. "I wouldn't dare to."

"I don't think we're going to break up." He hums. "Not with the way I'm in love with you, at least."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He whispers back to you, pressing his forehead to yours, noses brushing. "Not at all."

"That's all I need to hear." You grin.

Jason takes you to prom, as all high schoolers do, arm around your waist as you press the lemon water to your lips. There's no punch out of a fear that people are going to drug it, even when everyone is searched. You wonder if you want to go to the afterparty as you dump the rest of the drink. It's nasty. You wish there was soda. At least you could work a mocktail with a Sprite and the fruit on the table. The prom location is awful too despite the pretty paintings. It smells like a high school boys' locker room.

"There's karaoke in the back," He mumbles into your skin, pressing a kiss to your neck. That too. Jason's been getting more and more frisky. He should really have some sense of shame. "Without too many people."

"There's karaoke?" You ignore the way he squeezes your waist.

"Far back. Behind all the paintings."

"Oh, fuck yes." You mumble, making a beeline for the back, bolting to the first seat by karaoke you find. Jason texts you the list of songs available and asks you if you want to sing a duet. He watches you laugh at his text and send him a song, reminding him to ask when the two of you were going. He stands behind you, hands running up and down your neck, fingers digging into your back.

"You giving me a massage?" You rest your hand on his as he pauses.

"How are your feet doing?"

"Much better now that I'm sitting down." You mumble.

"Need to swap shoes with me?"

"I'll be fine." You hum. "You ready to sing?"

"Two losers who never speak up in class singing? You bet." He laughs.

You toss your friend your phone to record the two of you.

Jason may suck at DDR, but he's a great singer. His voice rings through the room, and you're sure more than one of the students in the room has fallen for him just based on his voice, but you're having fun singing a duet with him. It's always nice to be reminded that Jason sounds like an angel despite the build. You'd have him sing with you when he drives you up for college, you think. Yet, you yell the lyrics to the Taylor Swift song with him anyway, screaming the high note and bursting into laughter afterward. Jason continues singing, holding his hand out for you to get up.

It's the highlight of your high school life, you think. The highlight isn't when you got into your dream college, the highlight is Jason Todd serenading you at prom to a Taylor Swift song. You continue singing along with him, ignoring the way your heels hurt like a bitch. Maybe you'd have him drive you to get another Batburger. Even better, you'd have him grapple you to get Batburgers. That would make the night better, you think. You'd love to fly with him.

Jason finishes, mocking a bow to the crowd, the students cheering at him.

He pulls on your hand to have you bow too. You oblige.

The two of you leave prom early. Jason pulls you away from the karaoke room immediately when you finish, the two of you bolting for his car. Your heels click against the cement of the parking lot, digging into your feet, and you spin, your phone in Jason's hand as he takes photos of you. You hope he's good. Maybe he's one of those boyfriends who manage to catch photos of you at your worse. Oh well. The idea of it makes you laugh, the high from too many students ringing in your head, the deindividuation getting to you. You smile at Jason loopily, and your camera clicks in his hand, the moment immortalized.

"For your information," Jason catches you by the waist, showing you the photo of yourself. "You look gorgeous."

"Should've had Tim take photos of us before we left." You mumble. "Can you carry me back to the car?"

"My pleasure." Jason sits you on the sidewalk, helping you out of your heels. He throws you over his shoulder, resting his hand on your ass as he takes your heels in the other hand. "This good?"

"I feel like a sack of potatoes." You laugh. "But this is fine."

"Wanna go anywhere after this?"

"Can we grapple to get Batburgers?"

"You want to grapple?" You can feel Jason raise his brow.

"Yeah." You mumble. "Can we?"

"You good with flying? Your dress is too slippery, babe." He pats your ass.

"Oh, come on."

"Silk is too slippery." He hums. "We can do it another day."

You grumble. "Can we still get Batburgers?"

"With ice cream?"

"Yes, please." You mumble as Jason opens the door to your side, settling you into the seat and putting your heels next to your feet.

"I have a change of shoes in the back of the car because Dick told me that heels make your feet hurt after a while." He kisses the corner of your eye. "I also have a change of clothes if you don't want to ruin your dress."

"Jay, I'm going to marry you," You moan in bliss. "I'll pop the ring."

Jason laughs. "I can pop the ring."

"Yeah?" You turn your head to look at him, loopy smile on your face.

"Absolutely." He laughs.

The two of you sit in the parking lot again, Jason's shirt pulled over your dress to avoid ruining the silk, biting into the burger.

"This is bliss."

"Babe." Jason hums. "Why'd you ask me out again? Not the reason you told me. I think you asked me out for another reason."

You blink at him, swallowing the bite in your mouth. "I asked you out because I actually had a pathetic crush on you."

"Deadass?"

"Yeah. I fell for you as soon as you showed up looking like my type last Halloween. I didn't know if you did it on purpose, but holy shit I had to use every last ounce of self control to stop myself from just pulling you by the collar and making out with you in the middle of the hallway. Jay, you're hot as fuck." You muffle a laugh. "Wanted you so bad that day."

"Not anymore?" He raises a brow at you.

"Still do." You bite back into the burger. Jason watches as you chew and swallow. "If anything, even more now."

"Why haven't you told me?"

"Every time you've made out with me," You sigh. "We've been in public."

"What's a little public indecency? That's definitely not the most illegal thing I've done." He taps your thigh, squeezing it.

"It would be the most illegal thing I'll do." You grumble. "Nothing illegal before college, please."

"Anything for you." He reaches for the ice cream. "Can I have a bite?"

"Finish the whole thing if you'd like." You finish the burger, reaching for a napkin. "Got a little greedy tonight."

Jason laughs.

"Right." You make sure your fingers are clean, pulling the shirt over your head. "Chose this dress because it's crazy easy to take off."

Jason raises a brow as you reach for the ribbon on your back, pulling as the whole dress comes loose on your body.

"Isn't public nudity also a crime?"

"Sure," You reach for the shirt again, pulling it over your head. "Hope you liked looking at my tits."

"Would rather be sucking on them."

"Wow, Freud would have a field day with you." You mumble. "Maybe when we're not both dying."

"Do you have a curfew?"

"Told my parents I'm going to the afterparty." You shrug. "Clearly not."

"What time are you supposed to be back?" He runs his hand up your thigh again.

"We are NOT fucking in a parking lot."

"Never said we had to." He grins. "B's got a billion safehouses around the city."

"You're going to fuck me in a safehouse?"

"And? There's no cameras there."

"You're doing all the work." You grumble.

"Wouldn't dream of having you do anything your first time."

Your back slams into the seat as he races off to a safehouse.

Jason makes quick with what you're wearing, tugging his shirt over your head, lips pressed to your skin, biting and sucking where you would let him, desperate to taste every single inch of you. You whimper multiple times, and at some point, you stop him, fingers pressed to his chest, lashes fluttering as you struggle to stay awake, apology spinning in the air as your back met the mattress again, mumbling about your exhaustion. Jason leaves you alone after it, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, pulling your makeup remover from your purse, wiping the makeup from your skin as you rest in his arms. It was domestic. He liked it.

The two of you fall asleep like that — half naked, too tired to shower off the nightmare called prom.

Jason doesn't like visiting your place while in gear. He's usually bloody with someone else's blood by the end of patrol, and he'd rather bleed out in the Batcave than your room, but he doesn't have much of a choice this time, gash too big. He calls for backup with a press of the button, letting himself rest on your balcony for a moment.

"Jesus fucking christ," You throw your window open, first aid kit in your hand. "Do I need to get used to this?"

"Nope."

"You're fucking lucky I chose sportsmed as my pathway in high school, you nerd." You grumble, sterilizing the needle and disinfecting his wound. "You need stitches."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and take it." You shove a cloth into his mouth. "That's clean. Bite if it hurts."

"I've taken worse befo— oW!" He bites into the cloth as you start stitching him up. Your fingers are fast, and in a couple of minutes, his wound is stitched up. You wrap the gauze and bandage around his waist, securing it. Jason notices you're frowning the whole time.

"Not the first time, huh?"

"I hope it's the last." You grumble. "Did you call for backup?"

"Night's coming."

You sigh, leaning back against the railing on your side. "What happened?"

"Some guy with a sharp ass knife."

You raise a brow at him.

"It was a henchman. Six to one."

"Fucking hell." You grimace. "You're not gonna die one of these days, right?"

"I've dodged death once. I can do it again."

"Don't say shit like that." You grumble.

"Little wing! Oh, hey," Nightwing smiles at you, and you nod.

"I stitched him up. Have Al check him at home too, please. He's got more experience than me."

"We will. Thanks for patching him up."

"I hope it's the last time." You grumble. "Are you going tomorrow?"

"Might stay home. Send me the notes?" You don't need to see Jason's face to see him wince.

"Sure."

You've visited the Wayne manor more than enough times to know how to get to Jason's room, showing Alfred the notes from school, a grin on your face. You apologize for intruding, only for Alfred to tell you you're welcome whenever. You wonder if his family knows the two of you are dating. You have a feeling Tim caught his BeReal from when the two of you first started going out. Oh, well. It wasn't as if you needed to hide it from his family. Your parents were the harder ones.

"Hey," You wave at Jason. "Brought your notes and homework."

"Thanks. Anything from Lit?"

"Nope. Still the end of year project. You gonna be there for AP testing?"

"Yeah." He mumbles. "You gonna sleep while testing again?"

"Yeah." You deadpan. "Hundred percent."

"C'mere," He grabs you by the waist, sitting you on his lap as he continues on his laptop.

"Whatcha up to?"

"Hacking the CIA's firewalls." He mumbles, fingers clicking on the keyboard.

"That's a Tim answer." You raise your brow. "Why are you doing it?"

"Wanted to see if I got rusty."

You watch as he does, blinking in surprise when he manages to get into the files, scrolling through the files.

"Are you deleting your file in the CIA database?"

"I do it to fuck with em." He smiles. "Wanna read my file?"

"Fuck, yeah." You mumble, scrolling through all the information they had on him. "They never got your blood sample?"

"Never. The goons who get my blood don't have the equipment for DNA matching, and they would definitely not work with the CIA."

"You're on a watchlist, then?"

"I run crime in Gotham."

"An antihero." You point at the line in the file. "You minimize crime by controlling it from within."

"It's good to have a leg in everything."

"That's a lot of legs." You count on your hand. "Way more than two."

"You know what I mean."

You grin. "Yeah. I do."

"Wanna go anywhere before grad?"

"Wanna drive to New York?"

"And blow daddy's money?"

"Your daddy's money," You tap his chest playfully.

"He won't even notice." He smiles. "Motor or car?"

"Car."

"Bet."

AP testing could be a lot better. You sleep through half of it, finishing your multiple choice and essay questions too fast, exhaustion all over your face when you finish, calling your friend your savior as she hands you your coffee order. You could leave early if you really wanted to, but you don't, for some weird reason, and you stick by the rest of your classes, physically exhausted from all of the APs. Your coffee does little to minimize the psychic damage you received while taking the exam.

Even when Jason takes you to get dinner together, you're half picking through your food, half actually eating.

"Tired?"

"I can't wait to graduate." You mumble. "At least we don't need to be here during finals week."

"You gonna travel?"

"Wanna fly to Bruce's place in Hawaii?"

"Too cliche," Jason mumbles. "How about his mansion in the Alps?"

You gasp. "Deadass?"

"I can ask. I doubt he'd say no." Jason reaches for a fry on your plate, his empty.

"Want the rest of them?"

"Not hungry?"

"Not really." You reach for the second half of the sandwich. "Burnt out, more."

"Wanna take two weeks of independent study to run for the Alps?" Jason blurts.

You blink at him incredulously. "My parents would kill me."

"Not if I have Bruce lie and say it's for a camp."

You tilt your head at him. "My dad hates your dad."

"He does?"

"Daddy issues. Inferiority complex." You chew on the sandwich. "Doesn't matter. Send me a ticket. I'll lie and say it was for a class project to try and figure out the probability of lotteries and by some weird stroke of luck I got it."

"Gotcha."

The lie works, and the two of you take two weeks of independent study for the Alps, something only three people know the real reason for. It's really only Jason's family. The two of you both have stellar grades — it doesn't matter if you take a break. You wander into the Wayne mansion, surprised at everything you see. It's kept in crazy good condition despite the lack of servants.

"You guys got a maid here or something?" You mumble at the lack of dust.

"Bruce had it cleaned a couple days ago because I said we'd be coming."

"Can we wear cute clothes and head to the farmer's market?"

"Of course."

You pause. "Are we still going to New York?"

"Do you not want to anymore?"

"No." You hum. "I'm down. I just figured since we're in the Alps..."

"We're still going unless you cancel."

"Not canceling." You cross your arms. "Definitely not cancelling."

You find out just how much money Jason gets in a month's allowance on the trip. You're not allowed to pay for anything, jaw dropping at the black card that you didn't know a teen could even own, and the sheer amount of cash that Jason had was just baffling. You felt bad at first, only for Jason to pull up his bank records and show you just how much money was in his account. You wish you were born as a billionaire's son. Maybe you should've stolen car tires to get adopted by Bruce Wayne — the thought makes you laugh.

"You feel better?"

"If dating you means self care trips, I'm going to get down on a knee and propose. If we break up, I'll haunt you to your death." You yawn, grabbing another handful of blueberries. "Kill myself, even."

"That's a little extreme. I have no plans to break up with you." Jason pushes his shades up, turning to look at you.

"How's Gotham? Aren't you supposed to be there to control crime n shit?"

"Burner phone." He waves the old device in his hand. "Henchmen."

"Loyal?"

"Enough." Jason hums. "Wanna go to the fields later?"

"Yeah. Let's bike." You grin.

The fields of grass remind you of Jason's eyes, a green that you only got to see during spring and the rare moments of peace in Gotham. Dare you say it, it reminds you of Ivy's plants sometimes. Or the look of that one time toxins spilled into the river. The green of his eyes is vibrant in all the best and worst ways, but it's still dazzling to you. Laying in the grass makes you remember your date in the park. This time, the fields are pretty much empty.

"Wanna pick up from the park?" Jason rests on his side, fingers tapping your chest.

"I thought I told you I'm not doing anything indecent in public."

"Making out is hardly indecent."

"Your teenage hormones and the way you've been staring at my tits in this dress? Indecent." You yawn, turning to face him. "Does Bruce have cameras in the mansion?"

"Not in the master bath."

"Deal."

"Don't fall asleep this time."

"Oi," You punch him lightly. "Rude. That was after prom. I was tired."

"Just saying."

You punch him again in retaliation.

Jason wastes no time in having you, fingers pressed to your skin again, harder this time, nipping and biting at your skin, ignoring the way you try to tell him not to leave visible marks. You could live with a couple hickeys for two weeks. He nips at your neck, sliding the sundress down your shoulders, tugging at the string hiding your tits from him, lips pressing to you again as your fingers thread through his hair.

Jason didn't think it would be possible to love someone to this extent. He watches as you breathe in his arms, head pressed to his chest, bare skin pressed onto his, chests meeting. His fingers brush your cheek, heart warm and alive, lashes fluttering as he continues staring, hickeys formed on your skin, something you'd probably smack him for later. But he's sure you enjoyed it. He made sure that you did. He holds his breath as you shift in his arms.

"G'mornin." You mumble.

"Mornin'." He smiles.

"'m sore." You grumble. "Bitch." You punch him weakly.

"Was it good, though?" Jason laughs at your frown.

"Yeah." You sigh. "I'll go make breakfast."

"I'll do it."

"You're going to burn the kitchen down. No." You grumble. "Carry me around... I'll cook?"

Jason lifts you in a chair as you tell him to move you around, laughing when he starts ignoring you on purpose, smile on his face when you call for him. He complies after the third time, helping you plate the food and adjusting your seat height so you were comfortable.

"You should cook for me forever."

"I think you should move into my college dorm with me." You deadpan. "Just join me there. Bruce can donate a building or something."

"That's illegal."

"And you're a white man. Pick a privilege."

"Should I go blonde for the full white man privilege?" Jason taps his chin. "Would I look good blonde?"

"You'd give your family a heart attack, that's for sure." You mumble. "We should photoshop you to make you blonde."

"Are you into blondes?"

"I'm into you." You smile, the two of you going quiet before a laugh breaks past your lips. "I've been waiting to use that."

"I can tell." Jason hums, lips pulled into a smile.

"If you go blonde..." You pause. "No. Don't go blonde. Blonde gym rats scare me."

"Excuse you, I am not a gym rat."

"You'll stick out like a sore thumb during patrol." You grimace. "It's all black and then your hair is glowing in the dark like you're a flashlight."

"That's just insulting." Jason covers his mouth. "I wear a helmet, babe."

"It's the truth."

"Bruce would have a heart attack." Jason hums. "Sounds tempting."

"We can bleach your hair while here." You offer. "Your whole head."

"And ruin my perfect hair? No thanks."

"Says the loser with white hair."

"Now that's insulting." He taps your nose, frowning. "You and I both know why I have white hair."

"Cuz you almost died?"

"Yeah."

The two of you settle with Photoshop instead, cutting and pasting some random guy's blonde hair on top of Jason's, making him bald in the process. You take a photo to send to Dick and Tim, putting blue eyes on top of Jason's too, turning him into the textbook white man. You fall over in with the chair from how hard you laugh, Jason left to deal with the result of you sending the family his white man portrait. Dick sends a portrait to get edited too, and you go through the whole family, giving them blonde hair and blue eyes. You send the family photo into the groupchat, changing all of their contact photos to the edited version of them in the process. Jason finds it pointless, but from how hard you're laughing, he lets it pass.

"So? Do I look good blonde?"

"You look good no matter what you look like." You hum, leaning into his chest as you delete any evidence of the images on the desktop. "But really, you should join me for college."

"Too much work."

"You're a valedictorian."

"So are you."

You sigh. "I'm going to be all aloneeeeee."

"I'll call you every day."

"You can't promise that."

"We can call while I'm on patrol."

"Babe, I'll be asleep by then."

"With your sleep schedule?"

You go quiet.

"That's what I thought."

"We should send each other photos every day."

"One of those cheesy phone apps?"

"Yeah." You grin. "Or make video diaries."

"I'm not making a video diary."

"I'll make you video diaries to show you what I do in a day." You grin.

"Will I get to see your tits?"

"When I change, sure."

The two of you fly back at the end of the week, the hickeys from Jason all faded and the scratches from you all healed. It was like it never happened — save for the teeth mark you left on Jason's chest before leaving. You just wanted a bite, nothing more.

Both you and Jason turn in all your work when you return, grades still intact, end of the school year at your fingertips, buying tickets for grad. Jason has to buy more tickets from the students because of how big his family is. You joke that Bruce is going to end up with 14 grandchildren. The way Jason grimaces makes you think that it isn't exactly impossible. You don't want to find out.

You help Jason pin his grad cap into his hair so he doesn't look bald.

"Where was this idea when I graduated?" Dick clicks his tongue as you pin Jason's hair down.

"Probably with the girls," You have Jason shake his head to check if the cap was secure. It is. "I saw your grad photos. It's the classic image everyone gets."

"You gonna pin my cap in for my grad too?" Tim hums.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"No?" He raises a brow.

"Huh. Thought you did." You shrug. "I'll do it if you don't have any friends who figure it out."

The two of you head out, waving bye to the Wayns as Jason sits in his car.

"We're meeting in the gym, right?"

"Yeah. No bags." Jason hums.

"I'll just clip all of these," You clip them onto your gown.

Graduation is a blur as you take photos with your friends and with Jason, fireworks going off in the back, lips pressed to his in the darkness, pulling away when the two of you break into your own respective friend groups, photos taken with each other. You wonder if you should just introduce Jason to your parents officially at grad. You find that you don't have much of a choice when you spot Dick with your parents. You have no idea how he did it.

"Little wing!"

Jason groans at the nickname. "Hey, Dick."

"You're done!" Dick puts Jason into a headlock, and you take the flowers from your parents.

"Congrats." They smile at you.

You smile back. "Thank you. Ah, uh, this is Jason."

"We've met." Your mom smiles at Jason and he stands up, sighing.

"Dick, don't be rude."

"No, like," You pause, grimacing. Jason takes your hand, rubbing soothing circles, speaking up instead.

"We're dating."

"Oh." Your mom blinks, eyes wide.

"How long?" Your dad cuts in.

Jason looks at you as you swallow, squeezing his hand. "Since the first day of senior year."

Your dad is about to speak up when Dick spots Bruce and the rest of his siblings, waving for them at the spot. Your mom squeezes your arm, almost as if to tell you that you would talk later about it. Jason pulls you off to meet the rest of his family, Cass placing a lei around your neck, congratulating you for graduating. You smile at her thanking Bruce as he hands you a card. You don't want to think about what's inside of it. You slip that into the gift bag Tim hands you, thanking his family for the gifts, only to get pulled to the side by your other friends' families, more photos taken and leis thrown around your neck. You catch Jason end up pulled to the side by his friends, and you somehow end up in the mix.

By the end of the night, you're thoroughly spent, slouching in the back of your parents' car, exhaustion all over your face.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Your mother's voice is quiet.

"Didn't think you'd approve."

"Then why date him?" Your dad speaks up this time, voice hard. "If you knew we didn't want you dating that Wayne kid, why did you—"

"Cuz I like him." You sigh. "Love him a lot. Love him like the two of you love each other."

"You can't guarantee that. You're only in high school." Your mother reasons. "I'm sure there are—"

"Don't want another." You mumble, curling into the gift bag Tim handed you. "I know he's the one."

The car stops at the red light, and you glance to look at your dad's expression.

"Since when?"

"I told you, start of the school year—"

"No. When did you decide it was alright to keep secrets?" He raises his voice, and you wince.

"Honey, she's young, she'll—"

You blink, exhaustion in your body making it impossible for you to argue back with him, the arguing would have been futile anyway. You wonder if Jason is enjoying his graduation party. Maybe he's getting the night off from patrol since it was graduation. Maybe you'll text him later when you get home. You probably won't. You're too tired for it. Your dad's yelling is tuned out automatically, your body on autopilot when you bring everything to your room and drop it to the ground. You really hope Tim didn't bring you something that would break easily. You'll look tomorrow.

The knock at your window after you shower makes you pause.

"What are you doing here?"

"Wanna go grapple?" Jason smiles.

"My hair is wet. I don't wanna catch a cold."

"Put it in the helmet. It's waterproof." He pops it off his head, locking it around your neck. You glance at his domino mask.

"Do I need shoes?"

"I'll carry you the whole time." He hums. "Lock your door."

"Already did." You adjust the helmet on your head, wrapping your arms around his neck as he warps an arm around your waist. You hear the sound of the hook launch, and you stare through his helmet as he swings you into the air, the city of Gotham beneath you, warm wind of summer blowing against you, the cityscape rendering you breathless. The sound of screams and cars cancel each other out as Jason lands on a roof, adjusting his hold on you so you'd be more comfortable.

"So?" He raises a brow at you.

"It's gorgeous." You grin, turning to look at him. "Do you see this every night?"

"Only when I grapple. Usually I don't get to see because I'm grappling to catch a criminal."

"I love it." You hum.

"Want a batburger?"

"Fuck yeah."

The two of you swing down to the place as Jason puts you down in a booth to order. You fold your legs up, grinning at Jason as he hands you an ice cream.

"How'd you know I didn't want a burger?" You raise a brow.

"Too late for burgers." He hums. "You said you only liked ice cream after two."

"Thank you." You beam, watching Jason stare at you. "Something happen?"

"Your dad looked like he was going to hit you." Jason mumbles. "Did he hit you later?"

"No. He just got mad I kept it from him..." You pause. "And that I'm dating you. They think you're going to break up with me."

"Hope they have fun at the wedding, then." Jason hums. "You're alright?"

"I tuned them out on the car ride home." You smile.

"Alright. Dick was worried too. He said your dad looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel when I pulled you to my family." Jason hums. "Should I have dinner with them sometime?"

"No. They aren't going with me to move for college, so it doesn't matter." You mumble.

"You need help packing? I can send Cass."

"It's fine." You tap his hand. "I promise."

"Are you cutting ties with them?"

Your breath catches in your throat. "I... don't know."

"If you do, Bruce says he'd be more than willing to fund your education." Jason whispers.

"Woah, I'm already part of your family?" You gasp.

"Yeah." He nods. "So if you cut ties with your family, you have mine."

"I'll be fine." You mumble, staring at his hand. "I promise."

Your parents don't catch you. As mad as they could get, they didn't really care about what you did in your free time. Not even when you snuck out. You don't know why they're so mad about the whole dating situation, but given Bruce and Dick's public images, you aren't surprised they'd think Jason would do the same — even given the fact that you had been friends with him since you started high school.

When you get ready for work the next day, you barely notice the way your parents are sitting on the couch like you owe them a conversation.

"Young lady, where are you going?"

"Work." You turn to look at them.

"Or on a date?"

"This is what I wear to work." You repeat yourself.

Your dad raises a brow at you but doesn't speak further when you leave.

You're really contemplating running away from home. You don't have an actual reason to, so you stay home for the most part, ignoring the knocks on your door and hopping out your window when you wanted to go somewhere. Jason resorts to calling you when he isn't jumping in your window to talk with you for a bit. You can do with the distance, but it isn't ideal. The exhaustion from your lack of mobility is catching up to you.

"What do you think could change their minds?"

You frown, finishing first in Mario Kart. "Nothing."

"Not even a dinner?"

You frown. "They don't like the rich."

"They know I'm adopted, right?"

"They won't like that you're an orphan either."

"They're picky."

"Really picky." You grumble. "Last time I brought a boy home, they scared him off."

"They won't be able to scare me off, you know?"

"Yeah." You pause. "Maybe you should eat with them sometime."

"Dinner?"

You frown. "They're hosting a barbecue next week. I'll invite you."

"You're going to force me into the guest list?"

"It's better with more people." You mumble. "The fact that you were wearing a valedictorian gown might also help."

"When is it?"

"Next Saturday at 5pm." You mumble. "You know how to barbecue?"

"Would it surprise you if I say yes?"

"Yeah." You hum. "You know any of my friends' families?"

"Two. Good terms too."

"Alright. Don't be late."

"Should I bring meat?"

You seriously contemplate asking him if he wants to bring Wagyu, but you decide against it. "Bring beer."

"Ey, we can't drink yet."

"I'll rush to help you. My dad's probably going to get me to buy beer anyway."

"The expensive kind?"

"I'll send you a couple of brands." You pause. "Invite Dick too."

"To charm your mom?"

"Yeah." You grin. "To charm my mom and her friends."

You know your parents better than Jason realizes. When you help him bring the beer into your house, your father's expression softens, asking Jason if he wanted a bottle. Jason turns it down, mentioning that he still has to drive home later, also that he wasn't technically at the legal drinking age — not that it stopped people. You let out a breath you were holding when your dad pats him on the back and walked off to talk to the other people.

"So?"

"Went well." You mumble. "How good are you at barbecuing?"

"I'm on barbecue duty when we do it at our place."

"You're practically a barbecue dad." You gasp. "Woah."

"Yeah?"

"You have the build too. You're only missing a hawaiian shirt now." You pat his back. "You can go figure out how to help at the grill, I have to go check on my mom."

"Hope Dick hasn't stolen her from your dad."

"I sure hope not." You wince.

It ends well, the barbecue. You don't get yelled at for inviting Jason, and your mother tells you all about how Dick was such a charmer, a real ladies' guy. Your dad doesn't mention it, but from the way he kept eating, you can guess he liked Jason's grill skills. You should text him about it. Maybe you'd go for their summer barbecues sometime. You don't know.

Your dad pulls you to the side the next day.

"I'm sorry for lashing out." He pauses. "I was. It's stressful, knowing you're dating the second son of a family of players."

"I get it." You swallow. Not really. Your goal is just to make sure he likes Jason now.

"He's... he's good for you." Your dad smiles at you weakly.

You wonder if he's only saying this because Jason wouldn't leave your side earlier. Or maybe it was because your mother had told him that Jason looks at you like you're his whole world. You don't know why. But you suppose his acceptance is enough. At least you're allowed outside of the house now. You tighten the straps of your swimwear around your neck before leaving the house.

"He was good with you leaving?" Jason hands you a helmet for the bike.

"Yeah. Trusts you." You mumble. "Think Dick did a lot of work. Did you thank him?"

"Yeah." Jason hums. "Hope you're not tired of barbecue."

"Am I going to yours for it?"

"You can taste Alfred's cooking, and you can get a little more of mine." He hums. "Arms around the waist, babe."

"I'm excited." You mumble, lips quirking up as you wrap your arms around his waist. "Ooh, rock hard."

"I'm going to leave you here."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Love you too much for it."

The Wayne Manor is a mansion. Well, that much has been established, you suppose. You are, however, surprised to see a giant ass backyard with a huge ass pool. You've never been to the backyard, now that you think of it. Jason's never taken you.

"Did you bring swimwear?"

"Under the clothes," You pull your shirt over your head, ditching the shorts. "Tadaa!"

Jason laughs. "Put the shirt back on. Your tits are for me to see only, babe."

You frown. "Why not your shirt?"

Jason pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it at you. "That good enough?"

"Sure." You pull your arms through, placing your stuff to the side, jumping into the water to join his siblings.

You like the manor. Despite the constant bickering, the place felt warm, and that wasn't something you got often. The house is warm. It's warm as the Gotham sun burns into your back when you sit in the water by the ledge, head resting in your arms, it's warm when the charcoal in the grill burns, and it's warm when Cass pulls you out of the water to dry off before dinner. You could smell the food from where you were in the pool — you might just move here for the food.

Jason fills your plate for you, grabbing a little bit of everything, cutting your steak for you in advance as his family watches in awe.

"Little wing is capable of this?!"

"Steph, you owe me twenty."

"Bruce, you owe me 20k." Cass pokes at their dad as he stares at Jason.

"They bet on you?"

"Heard I got a girlfriend a while ago, and suddenly they started fighting each other over what kind of a boyfriend I would be." He switches plates with you, shrimp peeled and steak cut. "Oyster's clean, by the way."

"I'm gonna marry you."

"We've established this, I know."

You shrug, stabbing the shrimp. "Just reminding you."

"Don't beat me to the proposal, by the way." He points his knife at you.

"Master Jason." Alfred clears his throat, and Jason puts his knife down.

"Sorry, Alfred."

You hold a shrimp to his lips. "C'mon. As a thank you."

"Oh, at least you care." He bites down, chewing. "Don't beat me."

"I hope you get me a red diamond just to empty your pockets." You mumble.

"You want a ring with a gem worth a million dollars?"

"Yeah." You grin, holding a piece of steak to his lips. "You don't wanna give it to me?"

"I'll steal it."

"Oh, how romantic." You quiet down as you start eating the steak.

"You really want a red diamond?"

You glance at him, lips pulled into the fakest smile you can manage. "Yeah."

"Want it before you leave?" Jason raises a brow, the skin on his own shrimp finally peeled.

"You telling me you're gonna propose to me right out of high school? That's a recipe for disaster."

"Babe, we've been a disaster." He hums. "From you not telling your parents to me sneaking you to Switzerland to skip school, we have not been normal at all."

"Don't forget about New York."

"When is that again?"

You pretend to be offended. "I'm breaking up with you."

"I don't know what just happened, but I'm on her side." Dick cuts in.

"Me too."

"Me three."

"Guys." Jason groans.

"It's fine. We never set a date. How about in two weeks?" You hum.

"Yeah." He mumbles. "Wanna leave in the morning?"

"Sure. There's less cars then, huh?"

"We can stay at Bruce's penthouse."

"Does he have a house everywhere? New trivia game, where does Bruce Wayne NOT have a house?" You mumble.

"I don't have a place in Finland." Bruce calls from the end of the table.

You hold a hand over your mouth. "You got a place in Dubai?"

"A whole building."

"Woah..." You mumble. "How 'bout China?"

"Got a penthouse."

You blink in surprise. "Singapore?"

"Own a mansion there."

"You're not even a crazy rich asian." You mumble. "That should be a trivia game."

"For family game night?" Jason raises a brow at you, plate now empty.

"Yeah." You switch plates with him. "Which place does Bruce Wayne not own property."

"You're full?"

"Mhm." You nod. "You can have the rest."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You mumble.

Jason's driving does not scare you. You feel like it should, considering he drives pretty rough, but it does not scare you. If anything, you're worried about getting ticketed. Well, not like he was driving past the speed limit. At least you have the aux.

"How'd you convince your parents to let you go?"

"Told em it was a girls' trip." You yawn. "Lied straight through my teeth."

"You're awful."

"You're the influence."

"Makes both of us awful I guess." Jason hums. "We're staying at a hotel instead of Bruce's."

"Why's that?"

"Wanna have you without his security cameras."

You laugh. "Your horny little teenage brain."

"Both of us."

"Nuh-uh," You shake your head. "I don't think about jumping you. I think about biting you nonsexually."

"Yeah?"

You go quiet. "And marking you up. No visible marks this time." You deadpan. "New York is a hot mess and I still need to try clothes on."

"You gonna go shopping on fifth avenue?"

"Will you let me?"

"Go blow my money."

"Then I won't go easy."

Jason leans on the wall as you show him different clothes, doing a little spin for him when he asked. You try a bunch of stuff on only to buy three articles of clothing. You still feel bad for spending his money. Besides, he was paying for the hotel. You really wonder if you should buy him coffee as a thank you or something. Though, as Jason rips the tag directly off one of the dresses you try on, the thought disappears.

"We'll take this one." He hands the tag to the cashier. "Keep it on. You look good."

"Thank you." You grin, taking the bags from Jason as he pulls out his card. You blink as he swipes it without thinking. You wonder if you'd get to live a life like that.

"Thinking?" He takes the bags from your hand again, card in his wallet.

"I wanna be a rich kid..." You mumble. "I'd love to be rich."

"You have me."

"Yeah, but it's still different from being rich yourself." You hum. "Let's head back for the day."

"Tired?"

You frown. "I don't want you swiping your card any more."

"Why not?" He moves his bags onto one hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "It's for you. Bruce is fine with it."

"Yeah, but." Your face drops. "too much."

"Alright. But this much," Jason holds the bags up. "That isn't really considered much if you consider—"

"I'm not one of them, Jay." You squeeze his hand. "I'm fine with what you've got me already. Wanna go to the ice cream museum tomorrow?"

"Sure." He smiles. "Make the reservations."

"Got it." You grin.

Because no matter how willing Jason is when it comes to swiping his card for you, he still respects your words. Even when you're telling him it's too much, he knows when you truly draw the line, in the way your eyes harden and your voice drops. Jason would spill his entire fortune for you, anything for you, just for your happiness. That was all that mattered to him — the little sparkle in your eye when you were happy, the small upward tug of your lips when you were content, the way your body relaxed when you were truly at peace. You. As long as you were happy, he was happy. Hand on your cheek and lips pressed to yours, he was happy.

"You gonna miss me in college?" He squeezes your cheek as you stare at the NYU banner.

"Definitely." You hum. "You should go here."

"Why's that?"

"It's where all the rich kids go." You grin.

"Daddy's money could get me into your school too." He smiles, leaning down to press his forehead to yours teasingly.

"Then why not use it?"

"Cause Bruce actually values honesty." He pulls away, glancing at the banner.

"And you?" You tilt your head.

"I don't care." He grins. "Want me to get in with Daddy's money?"

"Want you to join me next year with just your grades."

"Want me to leave the city behind for you?"

"Yeah."

"Just to join you?"

"Yeah."

"One year, babe."

"Bet."

You take a photo with him at your school when you move, scribbling 1 year in pencil on the picture.

A year later, Jason's your dormmate, a new photo pinned on the mini bulletin board in the room.

Jason presses his lips to your forehead as you shift in the morning sun, smile on his lips as he greets you. You mumble a greeting back, falling asleep again. His lips pull into a gentle smile, closing his own eyes. His breathing syncs with yours, hearts beating together, the rays of the morning sun warming his skin as he shields you from the light. You never liked waking up because the curtains were too sheer.

For him, even getting you a star in the sky seemed like a menial task.

After all, if you were happy, so was he.

And as he feels your body relax into the mattress, he's sure you'd say the same for him.

[steddieas-shegoes]

how are you even alive?

for @steddielovemonth prompt ‘love is watching them do stupid things’

rated t | 1,351 words | cw: minor injury, suggestive language | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, the hurt is Steve being stubborn, the comfort is Eddie loving him even though he should accept help

♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

Twice a year, Steve deep cleaned the house.

Eddie had never witnessed anything like it before.

It’s not that he and Wayne were slobs, but they just did what was necessary, never spending an entire week going over a checklist a mile long to cover every inch of their house.

Steve did.

He said that when he was young, his parents hired people to do it and he was always fascinated with the way the house smelled so fresh for weeks after. He loved watching something go from dusty to shiny, loved seeing the way the windows glistened without any fingerprints from him.

And as he got older, his parents stopped hiring people and just expected it to get done, so he did. And he loved it.

Eddie couldn’t understand it, but he did love the way Steve’s eyes lit up when they got to his cleaning weeks in March and September. He’d plan it all out on a notepad by room, made a list of cleaning supplies he needed, and put stars next to things Eddie would have to help him with.

There were few stars, thankfully.

Eddie didn’t really mind helping. It was his home, too, and any time spent with Steve was time well spent. But the bleach sometimes bothered his sinuses and he’d end up coughing and sneezing for two days after.

He checked the lists now and noticed his name was only on three things:

Flip mattresses

Gutter cleaning (hold ladder and refill pressure washer)

Bookshelves (remove all books, dust, put books back)

He fist pumped once at the realization that he got off easy this time, much easier than he’d been expecting.

Actually, he almost always was enlisted to help with holding the ladder when Steve dusted the-

A bang interrupted his thoughts and he ran without even thinking what it could be.

He walked into the kitchen to see Steve on their ladder, some kind of homemade cleaning solution in a spray bottle in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

“What was that noise?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Steve reach as far as he could without falling off the ladder. He’d probably land on his feet from that height and be fine, but it wouldn’t exactly feel great.

“Dropped the other bottle I had hanging on my belt. It’s fine, just furniture polish. I can get it when I’m done dusting,” Steve was busy, barely even glanced back at Eddie as he answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a supervisor?” Eddie found the furniture polish and set it on the counter, watching as Steve furiously rubbed at the top of the cabinets.

“I don’t. But gutter cleaning is tomorrow and I’ll need one then.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t Steve me. I’m fine! I’m already halfway done.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped away, not wanting to argue with Steve when he was at his happiest.

“Can you put the radio on please, baby? I forgot to before I climbed up here.”

Eddie went over to the radio on the kitchen table and turned it on, surprised to find it tuned to the rock station instead of the hits station.

“Well color me shocked! Were you listening to,” he gasped and held his chest. “Rock?”

“Yes, I was. But if you’re gonna make a big deal about it then change it to the hits,” Steves eye roll was almost audible.

“No, no. Let’s listen to Def Leppard, sweetheart. It’s been my dream for one whole minute to check out your ass while listening to Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Steve snorted, but continued his work.

Eddie continued watching.

And then Steve wobbled a little. He caught himself, but Eddie stood up straighter.

He wobbles more and Eddie started to move towards the ladder to hold it steady.

But it was too late.

Steve was already falling.

He landed on his ass with a yelp and a groan, the washcloth and bottle flying across the floor.

“Shit, Stevie, you okay?” Eddie crouched down next to him, hands cupping his cheeks as he looked him over.

“Yeah. Just twisted my ankle a little when I tried to catch myself,” Steve gestured down at his ankle. “Might need to ice it before I clean more.”

“Maybe you should rest so it doesn’t swell.” Eddie rolled the sweatpants he was wearing up and saw the way it was already swelling. “Okay, you have no choice but to rest since it’s swelling.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that after we ice it,” Eddie said as he gently moved his ankle left and right to see if it was broken.

Steve snorted. “Of course this would happen the first day of my spring cleaning.”

“Maybe if you’d let me supervise earlier…”

“I never lose my balance on the ladder! I thought I’d be fine.”

“Steve, you remember how last year when you were cleaning the pool you insisted the water wouldn’t overfill because of the filters?” Eddie smirked. “And then 6 hours later we were trying to rescue your pool chairs from floating away?”

“That isn’t the same!”

“And then when we first moved in and you insisted you could paint the ceiling yourself and you insisted on handpainting instead of a roller because it wouldn't be even to you and then you dripped paint everywhere and we had to get new carpet? Remember how you ended up breaking your finger because you insisted on rolling the carpet yourself?"

"Okay, that was just bad luck."

"And when you put out the Christmas decorations last year while I was helping Wayne with his truck and I came home to you stuck on the roof?"

"Listen, I am almost 100% sure one of the neighbor kids knocked the ladder over. There was no other way!"

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead. "I'm not sure how you're even alive. You're asking for an accident to happen."

"Weren't you supposed to be getting me ice?" Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned in and nipped at his bottom lip. "You want help getting to the couch first?"

"Nope. It's cleaning week. 20 minutes with an ice pack and then I'm back to dusting."

Eddie shook his head. "You're ridiculous. We'll ice it for 20 and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour so we know if we need to wrap it and keep weight off of it."

"I'm fine, Eds."

"Humor me, sweetheart."

It's a damn good thing Steve did because an hour and a half later, they were on their way to the emergency room for x-rays.

As the doctor told them both that Steve seemed to have fractured a small bone in his ankle, Eddie did his best not to look too smug.

"It won't require a cast or boot, but I do recommend ice every couple of hours and staying off of it as much as possible for the next week or so. If anything starts to hurt worse, come back for a boot."

"Thanks, doc." Eddie waited until the doctor left the room to turn to Steve. "How about next time you want to dust above the fridge and the top of the cabinets, you let me be there to catch you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine."

Eddie kissed his lips softly, barely brushed them just in case someone decided to walk in again. "You want me to stop on the way home to get some more pain meds?"

"Please."

"You hurtin'?"

"A little."

"You want me to take your mind off it?" Eddie wiggled his brows suggestively. "I can keep your ankle elevated, even."

"We'll see when we get home. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Someone has to do the cleaning, baby. Since I can't, looks like you've got a checklist to get to."

"Or we could just put off the cleaning until your ankle heals."

Steve shook his head. "No, I think you can handle it. I'll supervise."

"You're lucky you're so pretty," Eddie groaned.

"Don't forget I'm also very good at sucking your-"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let's go before you get us discriminated against."

[verstappentime]

haven't shared anything new in a bit so here's the start of a maxiel bit where max was actually just hormonal in hungary and that's why he was cranky.

(tw: there's like a brief description of max puking here, apologies.)

max has to tell medical, because he’s afraid if something is really wrong, he might bleed out or something.

the medic says he’s fine, presses all over his abdomen and checks for tenderness and all that. they suggest he go to a real doctor, and tell him deciding to race was really stupid. he snaps something about how he knows that, thanks.

he’e still shaking when he walks back, has been since GP told him he crashed hard enough to alert medical.

he can’t pay attention to the debrief, can only think about the little app on his phone telling him the baby is the size of a tadpole or whatever. he thinks it would make him feel better to look at it, to remember how much cushioning they have in there, but he hasn’t got his phone back yet.

they keep asking him questions; he just nods or shakes his head, all of that simmering anger from before gone as fast as it came. just fucking hormones again, probably.

he has to leave the debrief to go throw up. he’s almost too late realizing the anxiety has turned into real illness.

he nearly knocks his chair over, pressing a hand to his chest like he can stem the burning as he fumbles to get out of the room. it always starts with a roll of nausea, then acid reflux, then. yeah.

he’s managed to go the whole day, the whole race, thank god, without this happening. he probably should have appreciated it more while he could, because he’s currently regurgitating all the water he had after the race and cold sweating and he might as well die here.

he’s embarrassed enough by the whole fucking day, by how mad he got at GP, at how the things he said must have cut hannah. and now he’s– now this is happening, and someone is probably going to come look for him, because he made it obvious what was happening. or, worse, tell daniel to look for him, and then he’ll have to make up some dumb story and get caught, because he’s an awful liar.

there’s a knock on the door. “max.” it’s brad, not daniel. at least he’s won something.

he coughs, chest heaving. the worst of it may be over. “present,” he says, voice scratchy. his throat is starting to get raw after the past week of what he is really trying not to let himself call morning sickness, because he’s in denial, which is fine as long as he’s self-aware about it, and also because it’s not just the morning, just whatever fucking time his body decides it will be.

“can i open the door? i have gatorade for you.”

“yeah, go ahead.” he really doesn’t want anyone to see him sitting on the fucking bathroom floor, but his head is throbbing now, and he’s really not trying to make anything worse.

brad doesn’t look phased, at least. he crouches down and hands max an orange gatorade. he’s got two more tucked under his arm. “you look rough, man.”

max a tiny sip. he’s glad it’s something with sugar. water tastes fucking awful the past few days. “thanks,” he mumbles.

“you looked bad yesterday, too,” brad says, conversational.

he knows he did. he was nauseous and moody and exhausted. he yelled at GP about the fucking rain. “thank you for the concern.”

brad rolls his eyes and points to the gatorade, “drink the rest of that. how dehydrated do you feel?”

“i’ll drink it.” max rubs his forehead. he doesn’t want an IV or anything. they made him do that last time he was sick after a race. he takes a long sip; it actually tastes alright. “see? i’m drinking it.”

brad gives him a look, like i’m watching you. “going to tell me what’s going on?”

max closes his eyes, letting the back of his head thunk against the wall. he doesn’t know why he can’t be one of those people with no symptoms. he hasn’t told anyone, didn’t want to until he made it through this weekend. he wanted to tell victoria first, cry down the phone and let her tell him what to do. fuck.

“what does it look like?” it doesn’t even sound mean. he’s too tired to make it mean, and his voice cracks, even though he really, really didn’t want it to. “could you just– can you get daniel, actually?”

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 3

Part 2

The comfort is here! This is just a morsel of the Nancy chapter, which means even MORE comfort with a pinch of angst.

~~~

It took a few weeks after Max and Lucas’s surprise visit for Eddie to work up enough courage to fly to Boston to knock on his sister's door-- technically sister from another mister, but he doesn't think that matters much.

Nancy's always believed in him, encouraged him to follow his passions no matter where it took him. Because even if you try and fail, Eddie, then at least you tried, and she’d always be there to catch him. In this case, maybe his passions took him a little too far.

It’s been almost eight months since they’ve talked, and he’s worried she won’t be there this time. Nancy is the fiercest person he knows, ready to stand up for what’s right regardless of the consequences. Hell, it’s what made her such a successful journalist. 

Which is why he’s worried he’ll buckle under the same scrutiny. This isn't a little mistake she can lecture away. Eddie has well and truly fucked up. If he could barely get through conversations with Robin and Max and Lucas, he has no idea how to navigate a conversation with Nancy Wheeler when she wants answers.

Before he can chicken out, the door’s ripped open by the woman herself. She’s different than he remembers. Her hair’s grown out, long and straight without her signature perm. The light pink pajama pants and matching pink slippers soften her edges. She looks good, aside from the bloodshot eyes.

This counts the fourth time Eddie’s ever seen Nancy cry: her freshman year when their cat died, a particularly nasty blow out between her and Mike before she moved for college, and two years ago when Jonathan finally proposed– happy tears, thankfully.

Now she’s standing here, staring at him through red-rimmed eyes and drowning in an oversized Corroded Coffin crewneck. He’s absolutely gutted at the sight. Only the fourth time she’s ever cried, and it’s his fault.

Another hard reminder of his many mistakes.

“Nance, please, can we talk?” He doesn’t know what to say that’ll fix it, but he has to try, she’s too important not to.

She suddenly throws herself at him, practically choking him with the grip of her arms around his neck, and for a moment he thinks she’s about to fight him. But her hand’s cradling the back of his head, and her other’s fisted in the back of his jacket. 

Nancy clings to him and shoves her nose into the crook of his neck. He wraps her up in a fierce hug in return, holding her as she shakes against him.

“Edward James Munson,” she says, forcing the words out around the tears, “I am so, so fucking mad at you.” Nancy lets go of his shirt just to emphasize her point by socking him in the shoulder. Only to grab at him again, like he’ll disappear if she lets go.

“I know, Nancy. I’m sorry.”

She coughs, and Eddie can feel where her tears have soaked his hair through, sticking it uncomfortably to his neck. “I missed you so much.”

He lets out a ragged sigh of relief. She still loves him, even after everything he’s done. Nancy Wheeler is too good for him– the whole world, really– but especially him. He doesn’t deserve someone like her, a sister like her, but he’s also selfish. So he holds onto her tighter, hoping that when he lets go she doesn’t change her mind

She leans out of his grasp to look him in the eye. He doesn’t know what she finds, but Nancy eyes are soft around the edges, filled with love, and she shoves his shoulder again. Not hard though, so she laughs when he dramatically falls backwards clutching his afflicted arm to his chest. He moans and groans, bottom lip jutted out in a firm pout as he bats his eyes at her, waiting for an apology.

“You’re such an asshole,” she says, but she’s smiling at him now and holding out her hand to help him up. He takes it, of course he does. Eddie relaxes, knowing that even though it's his fault she's cried, Nancy Wheeler will always be there to catch him whem he falls- metaphorically at least.

~~~

Part 4