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munsonluhvr · 4 months

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can you make a virgin! Eddie x experienced ! reader smut plsssssss I’ve been wanted to read to read a good story abt something like that yk 🙈 but ima not be picky sooo anything Eddie x reader would be good 😋

Ty I love your stories 💙💙💙

ANATOMY LESSON

contents: virgin!eddie munson x experienced! reader. smut! 18+. Eddie reveals to you, his best friend, that he's a virgin and you offer him a little lesson - but the lesson turns into a lot more then either of you expected. word count - 3.5k

notes: dear requester - I love you for requesting this. There were sooo many different scenarios I thought of writing for this request, and I totally ignored the pile of homework I have to do to write this immediately, but I hope everyone enjoy this. It was awfully fun to write.

“Wait, what?” you say, a laugh lacing your tone. You lay on Eddie’s bed, your sock covered feet digging into his bedsheets. “You’re so lying, you haven’t done it yet? How did I not know that?”

Eddie doesn’t turn to look at you, obviously embarrassed by his admission. Finally, Eddie shrugs, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know, I guess we never talk about our sex lives with each other.”

“Well, yeah, because there’s clearly not much going on in that department in either of our lives, but I did assume you’ve had sex for the first time by now.” You say, leaning up on your arm to look at Eddie. You were honestly shocked by the admission; how had Eddie not had sex, especially since he’s two years ahead of you?

It’s the wee hours after you and Eddie have been released from school, opting to, as usual, spend time with each other. You and Eddie had been best friends for as long as you could remember, always bound at the hip. When you were younger, your parents had been friendly, pushing you and Eddie together. When Eddie’s parents left Eddie with Wayne, his uncle, your parents were quick to absorb Eddie into your family. However, you always made the distinction that you didn’t see yourselves as essentially siblings, everyone certainly knew that you two were the best of friends. Any free time you had you spent with Eddie, every secret you had Eddie knew. Eddie was your other half, and you were his.

Again, Eddie shrugs. “Consider that assumption wrong,” Eddie says, turning away from you.

You can’t help but snicker. Eddie was the coolest, most confident person you know. He never cared about what others thought of him, he owns the title ‘freak’ that Hawkins titled him with utmost pride. Sure, Eddie had never had a girlfriend but that doesn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t had sex.

“Do you want to?” You say, curious. Didn’t every young male want to have sex?

Eddie lets his eyes flick to you; he frowns. “Y/n, I don’t want to talk about it, especially with you.”

You gasp in an exaggerated fashion, leaning on your arm to place your free hand over your heart. “Why not? We talk about everything with each other.”

Eddie rolls onto his side, facing you, mimicking your position. He shakes his head. “This is different. Guy and girl best friends aren’t supposed to inquire about each other’s sex lives.”

You scoff. “That’s bullshit, it’s not a big deal, Eddie. It’s just sex, it seems ridiculous to make that the one topic we don’t talk about with each other.”

Again, Eddie shakes his head, looking off into the distance behind you. “I don’t know, it’s just weird.”

You can understand how Eddie must feel - embarrassed. For some reason, having sex, or talking about it in society is shameful but at the same time not having done it at all, especially as teenagers, is shameful. You decide to joke and make it lighthearted to encourage him to lighten up. It truly wasn’t a big deal.

“Eddie Munson, are you the waiting until marriage type?” You say, laughing as you shove him lightly.

Eddie groans, burying his face into his tattooed covered bicep. “Y/n, stop. Trust me, not having had sex yet isn’t a choice; I would have done by now if the opportunity ever occurred.”

“Is there someone you want to do it with?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. Eddie hadn’t recently expressed having a crush on anyone at school but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a girl he has his eye on.

“No,” Eddie says. He peeks up at you from his arm. “Okay, fine, yes.”

“Eddie, what the hell,” you exclaim. “Are we even best friends if you keep all these things from me?”

“I’m telling you now,” Eddie says, sitting back up. “It’s embarrassing; I like this girl but have no experience in that department whatsoever. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I got her back home.”

You are dying to know who Eddie likes, knowing that whoever she is, she’s lucky. You’d love nothing more to encourage Eddie to pursue this girl, but you know asking who she is might be a bridge to far for Eddie in this moment; you decide to stay focused on the topic at hand.

You’re silent for a minute, thinking over tips to help Eddie in the moment where he would have a sexual encounter with a girl – then a wild idea comes to your mind.

“I’ll help you,” you say, sitting up. “I’ll teach you what to do.”

Eddie frowns. “What? How would you teach me to have sex?”

You laugh, knowing what you’re about to say will shock Eddie. “I’ll have sex with you,” you say nonchalantly and as if Eddie should have understood that right away.

“Y/n,” Eddie says, jolting up from his spot on his bed. “Have you lost your mind?”

You shrug, starting to peel off your jacket you’re wearing. “Like I said, sex is no big deal. I can walk you through what to do so you know what to do when it happens with the girl you like.”

Eddie crosses his arms, sliding himself off the bed to pace at the foot of his bed. Your head goes from side to side as you watch your best friend walk from one side of his bedroom to the other side. “No, I can’t have sex with you, you’re my best friend.”

You hum. “To me, that’s exactly why you should have sex with me. Think about it Eddie, we have been in each other’s lives for as long as we can remember, we’ve done everything together and know everything about each other. We’ve always been there for and supported each other in any way the other needs; teaching you how to have sex is just another way I can support you.”

The idea to have sex with Eddie, with the end goal being that Eddie is more confident with a girl, sounded insane to begin with and even suggest, but as you explain yourself– it didn’t sound that insane at all.

Eddie laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair then crossing his arms over his chest. “This is a joke, right?”

You roll your eyes. “No, it’s not. Here, I’ll prove it: I’ll show you my tits.” You say, tucking your hands underneath your t-shirt and letting your fingers dig underneath the band of your bra.

Eddie yelps, covering his eyes. “No, y/n, don’t. Okay, I believe you.”

You laugh, dropping your hands into your lap. “I’m serious, Eddie. We can take it slow; I’ll teach you everything and answer any questions you have.”

Eddie glances at you, maintaining eye-contact as he mulls over a response to your question. Eddie is twenty years old, far passed the average age everyone at Hawkins has sex for the first time. Always, but more recently, he’s been worried about how his performance might be for the lucky lady and how she might expect him to be more experienced considering his age. Although he finds your proposition jarring, he decides to put the awkwardness aside and take up your offer. “Okay,” is all Eddie can manage to say.

You clasp your hands, happy that your oh so thoughtful offer was accepted. “I knew you’d come to your senses. Are you ready?”

“You want to do it right now?” Eddie says, his eyes growing wider. A hot wave washes over him, instantly becoming nervous.

You give him a curious look. “I mean, there’s no better time than the present, plus we didn’t have any other plans for later.”

You watch Eddie as he turns into a nervous wreck, his fingertips digging into his already crossed arms. You can imagine how being told you’re going to have sex on the spot can make someone feel, so you lean forward on the bed, outstretching your arm to grasp onto Eddie. “It’s okay, we’ll take care of each other,” you say, offering a small smile.

In response to your touch, Eddie lets his arms drop to his sides. He moves from the end of the bed to the side you occupy, getting several feet closer to you. “Okay, right now it is then,” Eddie says, nervousness lacing his words.

And you begin your lesson.

“Okay, so. Say you just took this mysterious girl that you like out on a date and things went so well, which she’s on a date with you so of course it would, that you take her back to here.” You say, gesturing towards his bedroom that you both stand in. “Once she gives you that look, a look that says, ‘I want to have mind blowing sex with you have to set the mood immediately.”

“Set the mood?” Eddie says.

You roll your eyes. “Kiss her. You have to start kissing her, Eddie. Feel her up a little, don’t be coy, I know you’ve watched porn before.” Eddie’s cheeks flush with embarrassment but you continue on.

You scoot over on the bed, allowing space for Eddie to sit. You pat the open space, tugging Eddie to sit next to you. “When you start with kissing, it makes it easier to transition to stripping clothes off and ultimately have sex, you know?”

Eddie nods, crossing his arms across his chest. You’re quick to uncross them, scooting closer to Eddie, the side of your leg touching his. “Okay, go, kiss me.”

Eddie’s mouth opens and the closes, his mind drawing a blank. “Okay, no, that is a bridge too far.”

“Eddie, did you really think I’d just let you dry fuck me without any foreplay? Foreplay is the most important part.” You exclaim, shaking your head.

Eddie looks away and then complies. He leans in, his hands placing themselves on your cheek, drawing you closer to him. Your lips meet, letting your mouths intertwine with each other, tongues beginning to dance. You thought Eddie would pull away quickly, but he doesn’t, letting your mouth stay connected to his. You can feel the eagerness in his mouth, every movement begging for more. You take your lesson to second base.

Swiftly, you lay back on Eddie’s bed, Eddie following you down. With ease, he arranges himself over you as you part your legs to let him rest on top of you comfortably. You lean your head back, letting your lips break away from Eddie’s. “Very good, now is when you start taking her clothes off – and yours.”

Eddie squirms nervously on top of you and you’re sure you feel his arms lightly tremble. “Are you sure about this?”

“Never been surer about anything, Munson.”

Eddie sighs, leaning back onto his knees. His fingers tempt the end of his t-shirt, lifting it up and off of his torso. You watch, looking at his tattooed covered body and noticing the necklace that has a guitar pick as it’s pendant that hangs around his neck. You roll your eyes; He loves that thing.

Eddie goes to unbuckle his belt, but you gently kick his leg. “Don’t take off all your clothes and then mine; make it a back-and-forth thing. You take your shirt off, then take mine off. It’s a joint effort, let her do some of the work too.”

Eddie considers this, coming to an understanding on your principle. He places himself over you, his fingers twitching as he plays with the hem of your shirt, beginning to lift it up and off your body too.

Eddie has never seen you naked, not fully at least. Sure, there was that one time you got caught in the rain and your shirt was so soaked that you stripped it off once you got to his house, opting to borrow one of Eddie’s shirts. He had seen your bra then, the way your breasts settled in your bra nicely, the raindrops dripping down your chest. There was also that other time he realized how comfortable you were with him when you stripped down to your underwear and bra on a hot Indiana summer day, unable to bear the feeling of your clothes on your body or against your skin. Eddie had tried, in both of those instances, to give you your privacy and not stare at your assets – but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were drawn to your silky, supple skin, your curves, and the way you were so close to being naked, revealing your most intimate parts to him, but he didn’t let himself think about you in that way – at least not then.

Eddie tosses your shirt on the side of his bed, letting it drop to the floor. He realizes he’s holding his breath as he’s looking at your breasts, one of your nipples poking out from behind the bra. You notice that he’s analyzing you, taking in your bare skin. You don’t mind, you find yourself comfortable under his gaze.

“Keep going,” you say, though it comes out as a whisper. Your hands travel to his crotch, your fingers beginning to unzip the fly of his pants. Once his jeans are unzipped, you and Eddie work together to shrug his jeans off. You kick his jeans to the side of the bed, letting the piece of clothing fall next to your shirt on the floor. Eddie is quick to attend to your pants, his fingers enveloping the band of your jeans, pulling your bottoms off swiftly. Your hands find their way to his biceps, steadying yourself as Eddie works to pull your clothes off.

Eddie feels himself getting hard against your thigh, his arousal growing stronger but he’s quick to try and hide that fact. You lean up, your front pressing into Eddie as you reach behind yourself, unclipping your bra. Eddie almost cums in his boxers as he watches your breasts bounce out of your undergarment. Eddie doesn’t know what to do next, his mind in a whirlwind. He closes his eyes, looking away from you as he shrugs his boxers off, his cock bouncing out of its restraint, showcasing his arousal.

You swallow hard, eyeing his larger-then-you-imagined cock. Eddie has never known if his cock is a decent size, never having anything to compare it to or someone to tell him so, but by the look on your face, he knows he’s just fine.

Eddie waits a beat, waiting for you to pull your panties down but you don’t move. You want him to take them off. Eddie catches on eventually, hooking his two fingers on either side of your hips, pulling your panties off with ease. Deep inside, Eddie’s sexual hunger grows, wishing he could do away with your rules, letting his primal nature guide the exploration of your body. But he restrains himself, waiting for your instructions.

You part your legs, revealing your most sensitive part and now it’s Eddie’s turn to swallow hard, beginning to imagine what’s to come.

“And now?” Eddie says, his fingertips brushing your jaw as he pushes a strand of your hair that clings to your face. You watch him intensely, feeling the tension grow between you and Eddie rapidly. A pit grows in your stomach, the stimulation of Eddie de-clothing you causing a rush of emotions. You’re hoping this doesn’t turn out to be a mistake.

You clear your throat. “I have a feeling you know what to do now.” In response, Eddie offers you a small smile, re-positioning himself on top of you.

Eddie lines himself up with you, cock in his hand, and he inserts the tip in, pushing himself into you slowly. You gasp, biting your lip as you let your head fall back; the feeling of Eddie pushing himself inside of you igniting a strong sense of pleasure throughout your body and limbs.

Eddie thinks back to the porn he’s watched, though he knows that’s not an accurate representation of sex or how girl want to be treated. He mimics some of what he’s remembered seeing, rolling his hips so that he pulls himself in and out of you rhythmically.

You let your legs wrap around Eddie’s waist; Eddie glances down, noticing how he’s drawn into you further when your legs attached to him – he wishes he could have your legs around him forever, holding him in place. He shakes his head at the thought.

“What’s wrong?” You say, your hands finding their way to Eddie’s face. Eddie continues to move in and out of you and a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Oh, uh – nothing.” Eddie says, adjusting his arm that rests next to you. His new position brings you and Eddie’s chests closer, your nipples brushing his bare skin. Eddie finds himself not being able to concentrate.

Your hands move from his face, moving them to let your fingertips brush Eddie’s back. His skin his warm, your body feeling cold and exposed. Your body heats up when you acknowledge how Eddie’s cock bulges inside of you, stretching the walls of your cunt to allow him inside of you. You had already had sex before, with two or three guys, but no guy was as big as Eddie – of course Eddie would have the biggest cock out of all the guys you’ve slept with.

While you’re thinking about how Eddie’s cock is painfully, yet pleasurably, big - Eddie is staring at your tits, wondering how they’d fit in his mouth. Just then, Eddie has no idea what comes over him. He suddenly has no regard for the concept of your ‘anatomy’ exercise, attempting to teach him how to have sex as his best friend – Eddie just wants to fuck the shit out of you. He wants to fuck his best friend.

Eddie dips down to your chest, his large, ring-covered hand, clasping your breast. His mouth engulfs your breast, his lips puckering around your hard nipples. Eddie lets his tongue flatten against you, roughly licking your tits. You gasp again, your body arching in response to his bold act. Instantly, your fingers lace into his hair, pushing him further down against your chest. Eddie, emboldened by your response, moves to your other breast, copying what he had done just seconds before.

Once he finishes with your second breast, Eddie keeps his mouth to your sternum, placing a trail of kisses from your chest up to your neck, leaving soft kisses underneath your ear.

“Go faster,” You say, your thighs clenching around him. You knew it was wrong, the feeling you have growing inside of you as Eddie thrusts in and out of you. You wanted him bad, in ways you knew weren’t the ways you should think about your best friends.

Eddie obeys, making his movements quicker, his thrusts rougher. Eddie loves the way he feels in this moment, the trembling of yours legs around him and the way your fingertips grip the roots of his hair. He never wanted this to end.

“Am I doing it right?” Eddie says, mumbling into your neck.

“You’re doing so good, that girl, whoever she is, is so lucky.” You say, a moan parting your sentence. “Fuck, this feels good.” Eddie smiles against your skin at your answer, his body moving smoothly against yours as if you’re two perfect fitting puzzle pieces.

Eddie feels a burning sensation growing inside of him, his skin beginning to flush. He was about to finish. Obviously, Eddie had jerked off before, a lot actually, so he knew what feeling close felt like but this time feeling like he’s about to come while inside of you feels a lot different – it feels so much better. He doesn’t want to stop, enjoying the way he’s come to having sex with ease, as if he’s a natural at it, but he knows the inevitable and not something he can control entirely.

You, being just as wild as Eddie, pull his mouth back to yours, enveloping your lips on his. The action made everything much more intimate, so much deeper than just helping your friend out. Your lips nip at his, begging to be paid attention to. Eddie leans on one arm, letting his hand trail to your face, his large hand cupping half of your face. He leans into the kiss, glad to pay attention to your mouth. Eddie feels the intimacy grow between you, making his arousal even stronger, and he comes – instantly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Eddie whispers, separating his mouth from yours. He looks down, noticing how specks of his semen are splatted across your inner thighs.

You laugh softly, secretly wishing you could go for a second round. You mauver your body under Eddie’s top sheet, hiding yourself from Eddie. “And that’s how you have sex. I’ll give you an A-, you should pay more attention to foreplay when the real thing happens.”

Eddie follows you, submersing himself under the sheets. “So, you’re saying I could use more lessons with you?”

You frown, looking over at Eddie. “What? You want to do this again?”

Eddie looks away, staring at his guitar that hangs on his mirror. His guitar is his prized position, a material object he finds so much confidence and security in. Eddie realizes it’s time to confess. “You know the girl you asked me about?” Eddie asks you. “Well, that girl is you.”

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

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earthtooz · 1 year

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hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3

gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!

“where is our couch?”

gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.

“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.

that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.

and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.

“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull.

“is it not in the living room?”

he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.

“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”

the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”

“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps.

instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.

he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”

you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.

“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”

you sigh, “yes.”

“i warped it somewhere.”

“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”

“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”

that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye.

“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz.

“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”

“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.”

his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”

before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind.

rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.

“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.

“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”

“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”

“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”

you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”

“-then i’ll warp her house.”

“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”

“so you think i’m impressive?”

“gojo.”

“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”

you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.”

“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you.

“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill.

your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.

he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.”

gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.

his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done.

even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade.

as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you.

it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”

“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”

#leah pls don't perceive me this is saur embarrassing #if u read this i will simply #idk what i will do but i will do something #it feels like the heavens is deciding my fate idk this is a lot of pressure HELP #i'm not totally happy with this one #but i was determined to get this out lol so #mediocre writing as always bc what else do i give you all <33 #i should get rid of this habit #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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covington-shenanigans · 2 months

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so I'm on this app, Marco Polo, where you stay in touch with people by means of sending video messages. (there are probably other features, but I'm a free user, so I remain blissfully ignorant of them.) mostly I use it to annoy my sister. ("BITCH WHAT IF I GOT A PHALLOPLASTY AND HAD A BABY SHOWER FOR MY DICK. WE COULD HAVE ZUCCHINI FRITTERS. DICK-SHAPED PASTA. BANANAS FOSTER. DO U SEE MY VISION")

anyway, during the Hell Year of 2020, I saw my childhood best friend (let's call her Lee) was on this app. and like.

when I say "my childhood best friend", I mean the Weird Girl next door, who saw the Weird Girl that I was. I mean the girl I played with from age five until just shy of eleven, when my family moved away. I mean the girl I played with every day, for hours and hours, making up all kinds of elaborate scenarios involving our menagerie of stuffed animals. there were multiple overlapping, soap opera-style plotlines that lasted for years. there was drama. heartbreak. glory. she was the first friend I remember having. she was the first girl I ever loved, in my five-year-old way.

well, I hadn't seen Lee in at least 20 years and I was like, "holy shit! Lee!!!" so I sent her a "hey, nice to see you here, how you been" message.

again, this was late 2020.

now, I had been on T for a scant three months when I sent the first message, so I was a mere baby child, relative to the gruff manly man I am now. no beard, my voice had only started to wobble, still had tits... you get it. keep this in mind, it'll be important later.

I never heard back from her, but we're both Old, so I was like "eh, she probably forgot she installed the app" and forgot about it. we'd exchanged text messages at some point during the Hell Year, but like many people my age she doesn't really text, and I'm not calling anyone if I don't have to, so our communication had been sporadic, at best.

well. today I got a notification that she sent me a reply on Marco Polo.

I figured, well, she's replying to me 3.5 years late, but better late than never. I have ADHD and no friendship degradation mechanic, so I'm excited! yay! friend! :D

and then I remember. "...oh shit. she doesn't know I'm trans."

so. the thing is. I'm from Mississippi, which is. very very fucking conservative. I know Lee grew up Southern Baptist. I also know she's still living in the same town where we grew up and where she eventually graduated from high school and college. last I checked she was still attending the same Southern Baptist church where she grew up and her remaining living parent is still living in Lee's childhood home.

so this is either going to be Fine or it's going to be a disaster. lol.

in thinking it through, I figure either she's seen my updated profile pic, where I have the beard etc., or she hasn't. so either she's going to acknowledge this change or she isn't. okay. these are the possibilities. so I watch the message.

...the secret third option is... she seems to not realize when I sent the message? "sorry, I missed this when I was at work!" girl. what? I mean, you probably did miss it while you were at work... three and a half years ago. possibly she meant to reply to someone else and got me instead?

whatever. who knows. doesn't matter.

because I have the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing in the world now

#covington-shenanigans gets personal #story time #marco polo #trans stuff #childhood friends #trans man #transmasc #trans men

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pucksandpower · 13 days

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Party Girl

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Logan Sargeant x Hunt!Reader

Summary: Logan tries to save a notorious party girl from herself (or in which going wild runs in the Hunt family)

Warnings: illicit substances and peer-pressure

The nightclub’s bass thumps through Logan’s chest as the trio approaches the entrance. Lando and Oscar turn to him with matching grins.

“You ready for this, mate?” Lando asks.

Logan eyes the mass of people spilling out onto the sidewalk. “Is this really a good idea?”

“Of course!” Oscar claps him on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be brilliant. Especially with you keeping an eye on the hostess.”

“Me?” Logan’s brow furrows.

Lando nods. “You’re our designated driver tonight, so you’ll be the soberest one here. We need you to keep Y/N from going too far off the rails.”

“Why me though? I barely know her.”

“Exactly!” Oscar exclaims. “She doesn’t really know you either, so she’ll actually listen instead of brushing you off like she does with the rest of us.”

Logan frowns. “I don’t know, guys ...”

“Oh, come on!” Lando wheedles. “You’ve heard the stories about James Hunt. Partying is in her DNA. We just need to make sure she doesn’t take after her grandad too much tonight.”

With a sigh, Logan relents. “Alright, fine. I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble.”

The two grin and clap him on the back before leading the way inside. The throbbing music and flashing lights assault Logan’s senses as they enter. He scans the crowd, quickly spotting a vaguely familiar mane of untamed waves.

You’re laughing uproariously at something one of your friends said, drink sloshing precariously in your hand. Your cheeks are already flushed, eyes bright with intoxication and mirth. A pang of concern flutters in Logan’s chest — Lando and Oscar weren’t kidding about keeping an eye on you.

Making his way through the press of bodies, Logan sidles up next to you. You glance over with a brilliant smile.

“Heyyy, you made it!”

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Logan replies, suddenly feeling awkward. “Your friends invited me to, you know, keep things under control.”

You giggle. “Under control? What fun is that?”

Taking a swig of your drink, you spin away to dance with your friends, moving your hips enticingly. Logan swallows hard, trying not to stare. This is going to be harder than he thought.

The evening blurs by in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Wherever you go, Logan follows at a respectful distance. He rebuffs anyone trying to offer you illicit substances and intervenes whenever your friends get too rowdy.

A few times you shoot him annoyed glares, but he just shrugs apologetically. He’s only doing what Lando and Oscar asked. Besides, he reasons, better to have you mad at him than in real danger.

As the hour grows later, your movements become more uncoordinated, laughter louder and words more slurred. Logan hovers closer, concern mounting.

“Ohhh, Logannnnn,” you croon, draping yourself over him. “You’re sooo stuffy. Live a little!”

He gently extracts himself from your embrace. “I think you’ve lived enough for tonight, Y/N.”

Pouting, you turn away petulantly. Logan watches as a few of your more unscrupulous friends surround you with sly grins. Alarm spikes through him when he sees one of them press something into your palm.

“Hey!” Pushing forward, he places himself between you and them. “Back off. She’s not interested.”

You blink at him owlishly while your friends sneer.

“Who’re you to decide for her, pretty boy?”

“Someone who actually cares if she’s okay.” Logan holds his ground.

With a drunken giggle, you lean against his back. “S’ok, Logieee. Lemme have some fun!”

“No, Y/N.” He spins to face you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “That stuff is bad news. You don’t want it, trust me.”

Your eyes are glazed, but you search his face like you’re trying to understand. One of your friends makes another attempt to press the little baggie into your hand. Without thinking, Logan bats it away. It goes flying across the club, spilling white powder everywhere.

“Dude!” Your friend shouts, outraged.

Logan doesn’t give them a chance to react further. Scooping you up in his arms, he starts carrying you away from the crowd. You’re tiny and warm against his chest, still giggling faintly.

“Mmm, Logan ... gonna getcha in trouble ...”

“I’ll take my chances,” he mutters.

Pushing his way through the throngs of people, Logan finally breaks free into the cool night air. He sets you on your feet, but keeps a steadying hand on your waist when you sway unsteadily.

Up close like this, he can make out the flushed skin across your nose, the flecks of light reflecting in your warm eyes. For a moment you just gaze at each other, the sounds of the party muffled behind the club’s doors.

Then your brow furrows. “Why’d ya stop me? I was jus’ havin’ fun.”

Logan shakes his head slowly. “That kind of fun isn’t good for you, Y/N. Your friends, they ... they weren’t looking out for your best interests back there.”

“You don’ even know me!” You protest, pushing away from him on unsteady feet.

Without thinking, Logan catches your hands in his. They’re so tiny, delicate, yet topped with nails sharp enough to take an eye out. Just like the rest of you — an enigmatic mix of fragile beauty and uncompromising tenacity.

“You’re right, I don’t really know you,” he admits. “But I know that you’re strong. Braver and tougher than anyone gives you credit for. And you don’t need that junk to be the life of the party.”

For a long moment, you simply stare at him, eyes wide. Then, slowly, you nod. A few stray tendrils of hair fall across your face and Logan’s fingers itch to brush them back. He tamps down the urge.

“M’sorry I made a scene back there,” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Hey.” Logan ducks his head to catch your eye again. “Don’t be sorry. Those people, they ...” He shakes his head in disgust. “You deserve better friends than that.”

Pink dusts your cheeks as the corners of your mouth tick upwards. “You’re sweet, Logan. A real gentleman.”

“I just call it like I see it,” he replies with a shrug.

You laugh softly then, a warm, rich sound that sends tingles down Logan’s spine. When you speak again, your voice is clearer, more sober.

“I guess tonight got a little out of hand. Sometimes I go too far trying to live up to the reputation of my last name. It’s stupid, I know.”

“Hey, we all have things we’re trying to prove.” Logan squeezes your hands reassuringly. “But you don’t have to prove anything to me, Y/N. I can already see how amazing you are.”

For a beat, you simply stare at him, eyes shining. Then, surging up on your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him hard.

Logan freezes for half a second before melting into the embrace, pulling you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back with everything he has.

When you finally break apart, breathless and flushed, Logan rests his forehead against yours.

“Wow,” is all he can think to say.

You grin impishly up at him. “Now there’s a party I wouldn’t mind getting carried away at.”

Logan can’t help but laugh. Tucking you into his side, he presses a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

***

Logan jolts awake to the sound of insistent pounding on his hotel room door. Squinting against the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and shuffles to answer it.

“About damn time!” Lando’s voice greets him as soon as the door opens. “Do you know how long we’ve been stuck outside?”

Oscar shoulders past Logan into the room. “Yeah, mate. Abandoning your friends at the club? Not cool.”

Logan’s brow furrows in confusion until the previous night’s events come trickling back. The party, the near miss with the drugs, getting you safely away ...

His gaze drifts to the rumpled bed across the room where you’re just starting to stir, sheets tangled around your legs. A soft smile tugs at Logan’s lips as he watches you blink owlishly.

“Earth to Logan?” Lando waves a hand in front of his face. “You still with us?”

“What? Yeah, sorry.” Logan drags his attention back to the two drivers. “Look, I can explain about last night ...”

“No need to explain why you ditched us,” Oscar interjects with a suggestive wink toward the bed. “We can figure that part out for ourselves.”

You sit upright then, the sheets pooling around your waist as you rub your eyes. “Whas’ goin’ on?”

“Well, well!” Lando exclaims with a salacious grin. “If it isn’t the life of the party herself! Get up to any ... extracurriculars last night?”

Heat creeps up the back of Logan’s neck as you glance between the three of them in sleepy bewilderment. A strangled laugh escapes Oscar’s lips as the realization hits both of them. You and Logan lock eyes from across the room, equally mortified.

“No, wait! It’s not what it looks like!” Logan splutters.

Lando claps a hand on his shoulder with a pitying look. “It’s alright, mate. You don’t have to be ashamed about finally getting some action.”

“But I didn’t!” Logan insists, running a flustered hand through his hair. “Y/N, tell them!”

Untangling yourself from the sheets, you slide off the bed — giving everyone an eyeful of the fact that you’re only wearing one of Logan’s hoodies. His breath catches in his throat because damn if you don’t look incredible drowning in his clothes.

Your bare feet pad across the carpet until you’re standing before him, fingers playing with the worn cotton hem. “He’s right, you two. We didn’t ... you know.”

Hurt flashes across Logan’s face before he can squelch it back down. Right, of course you wouldn’t want that after all the lines he crossed last night. You’d been drunk and vulnerable and now you were regretting everything, including the–

“We kissed! But it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he blurts out, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I got Y/N out of a bad situation and we may have, uh, gotten a little carried away in the heat of the moment. But she was drunk and it won’t happen again, I swear.”

An awkward silence falls over the room, broken only by Lando’s snort of laughter. “No rizz, this one.”

Logan’s jaw clenches. He knew they’d tease him about it, but he’s a grown man and he doesn’t need to take it from the likes of–

“Logan.”

Your voice is soft but it cuts through the embarrassment swirling in his mind. You take his face gently in your hands and he’s helpless but to meet your warm gaze.

“What if I want it to mean something?”

The air whooshes out of him in a surprised breath. His hands find your waist of their own accord like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Y-You do?”

Behind you, Oscar groans. “God, he’s so hopeless.”

“I think it’s sweet!” Lando retorts. “Innocent, you know? Like a puppy getting all flustered.”

Logan blocks them out, his whole world narrowing to the amused, almost fond smile playing across your lips. You nod, leaning further into his embrace.

“I meant what I said last night, Logan. You’re the sweetest, most caring guy I’ve ever met. And I like you.” Your nose wrinkles adorably. “A lot, actually.”

He blinks rapidly, certain his heart is about to burst out of his chest. “Y/N, I ... I like you too. So much.”

Laughing that rich, warm laugh of yours, you loop your arms around his neck and rise up on your tiptoes. Logan meets you halfway, melting into the heated press of your lips against his.

Catcalls and wolf-whistles finally penetrate the happy bubble enveloping you both. You break the kiss with a breathless giggle, burrowing your face into the crook of Logan’s neck.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Oscar hollers. “Get a room!”

“Yeah, we’ve already got one!” Logan shoots back, surprising himself with the retort. He winks cheekily at you and you positively beam in response, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Alright, that’s our cue!” Lando steers Oscar toward the door. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do, you crazy kids!”

The door slams behind them, leaving you and Logan alone in blissful quiet. His arms tighten around your waist, keeping you pressed flush against him. For a few heartbeats, you simply drink each other in, basking in the unfamiliar but not unwelcome feelings bubbling up.

Eventually you break the spell with a featherlight brush of your lips against the corner of Logan’s mouth. “So, was that too forward? I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you ...”

“No!” He rushes to reassure you. “God, no. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You poke his chest lightly, eyes dancing with mirth. “Not even racing?”

Logan chuckles, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Okay, maybe one other thing. But you’re definitely in the top two.”

Winding your arms back around his neck, you arch one brow mischievously. “Only top two? I’ll have to work on that ...”

His breath catches in his throat at the playful promise in your tone. “I, uh ... I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

As you lean in to kiss him again, Logan can’t help but silently thank Lando and Oscar for dragging him to that party. True, the night didn’t go exactly as expected. But he wound up with the greatest prize of all — you, here in his arms, carefree and happy and perfect in every way.

Like the gentleman his mama raised him to be, Logan vows silently to cherish every moment with you. After all, only a fool would look a gift horse like you in the mouth.

***

Adrenaline still thrums through Logan’s veins as he exits parc fermé, helmet tucked under his arm. His cheeks ache from the wide grin stretched across his face — a double points finish was exactly what Williams needed.

Alex falls into step beside him, equally elated after their impressive showing on the track today. They did good, really good. Logan can’t wait to celebrate with the whole team.

As they approach the Williams garage, a familiar head of hair catches Logan’s eye. You’re standing front and center, bouncing on the balls of your feet with poorly contained excitement. A large bakery box is clutched in your hands, the elaborate logo on the lid leaving little doubt as to its expensive contents.

Logan’s grin widens impossibly further. Of course you’d be here with treats in tow, always ready to turn any occasion into a party. His heart swells with affection just watching you eagerly await his and Alex’s return.

The rest of the team notice their arrival and erupt into cheers, crowding around to clap the drivers on the back with jubilant congratulations. You hang back, though your whole face is lit up with unabashed pride.

“Nice one out there, lads!” An engineer calls over the ruckus.

“About time we had a good points haul,” Another mechanic agrees.

Logan waves off the compliments with a bashful duck of his head. The team has been through so much in recent seasons — they deserve this moment more than he does.

“Alright, alright! Give the boys some space to breathe!” A familiar voice rings out.

You shove your way through the throngs of people, bounding right up to Logan with a brilliant grin. He has a split second to brace himself before you launch into his arms, nearly sending him toppling backward with the force of your enthusiasm.

“You were brilliant!” You exclaim, planting an exuberant kiss on his cheek that has him blushing furiously. “Both of you! I’m so proud!”

Alex chuckles fondly as you untangle yourself from Logan just enough to loop an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “We couldn’t have done it without the team’s hard work. You should be proud of them.”

“Oh, I am!” You turn your beaming smile on the rest of the crew. “Which is why I brought a little celebratory treat!”

Holding up the bakery box with a waggle of your brows, you peel back the lid to reveal a massively decadent-looking chocolate cake. It’s one of the most elaborate confections Logan has ever laid eyes on.

A reverent hush falls over the assembled group as they all lean in to get a better look. The air is suddenly thick with the rich scent of cocoa and buttercream frosting.

“Blimey, Y/N! That must’ve set you back a pretty penny!” Alex exclaims.

You wave him off with a casual flap of your hand. “Oh, please! You don’t even want to know how many races I’ve brought an expensive cake to just in case. I’m just glad I finally got to use this one!”

A ripple of laughter rolls through the crew at that. Logan shakes his head in fond exasperation, equal parts endeared and unsurprised by your extravagant gesture.

When your gaze lands on him again, warmth blooms in his chest at the open adoration shining in your eyes. You look at him like he’s the most impressive thing you’ve ever seen, not some lucky racer who simply played a tiny part in today’s success.

Liquid courage from the race still thrumming through his veins, Logan acts on impulse. Plucking the cake box deftly from your grip, he passes it off to a bewildered Alex before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you soundly.

A startled squeak quickly melts into a pleased hum as you melt against him, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Logan pours every ounce of his pride and affection for you into the heated press of his lips, uncaring of the captive audience for once.

Hoots and hollers finally break through the rosy haze fogging Logan’s mind. He breaks the kiss with a breathless chuckle, thumbs brushing over the delightfully flushed apples of your cheeks.

“Get a room, you two!” Alex hollers with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the crew quickly devolves into jokes and ribbing at your expense, but Logan couldn’t care less. With you smiling up at him like he hung the moon, the rest of the world simply falls away.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours.

The impish grin you shoot him in return makes his heart stutter. “Well, it wouldn’t be a proper party without dessert.”

An arm slings around Logan’s shoulders, disrupting the little bubble you’ve found yourselves cocooned in. He startles, having completely forgotten about the dozens of other people still milling about.

“Well isn’t this just precious!” Gaetan, Logan’s race engineer, gives him an affectionate shake. “Young love blossoming right here in the garage!”

Red blooms high on Logan’s cheeks even as your melodic giggles wash over him. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“We’re not that young.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Gaetan retorts with a bark of laughter. “You two have more spark than the rest of the kids around here combined.”

Your hand finds Logan’s, tangling your fingers together as you lean bodily into his side. For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to bask in the happiness surrounding him. It’s like floating, secure in the knowledge that you’ll always be right here to keep him grounded.

“You know,” you begin softly, batting your lashes up at Logan. “This might just be my new favorite party.”

A surprised huff of laughter escapes him. But really, he shouldn’t be so shocked. From the moment he met you, it was clear you had an unparalleled zest for life. You see the joy and potential for a good time in every single occasion. It’s one of the many, many things Logan loves about you.

“Your favorite, huh?” He bends to press his forehead to yours, drinking in your radiant smile. “I’ll remember this one, then.”

Because no matter how many parties, races, or adventures you two share moving forward, Logan vows to cherish each and every one with you by his side. After all, every single moment is worth celebrating when you get to spend it with the person you love most.

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starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies · 1 month

Text

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

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lustfulslxt · 4 months

Text

What Are You Doing Step Bro? - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you go on a small trip with your new “family”. you and chris, your stepbrother, test the waters and give into your deepest desires.

warnings : step siblings kink, breeding kink, swearing. think that's it, but probably not. NSFW

a/n : i do not want to hear a single thing about how they're related, it's incest, it's gross, it's weird -- whatever the fuck. there are absolutely no blood relations! if you're not into this kinda thing, simply shut up and keep scrolling while the rest of us get our rocks off :)))))))

His wavy brown hair falls perfectly over his face as he packs his duffel bag. The moonlight illuminates his prominent cheekbones. His long eyelashes brush over his cheeks every time his eyes flutter, the cool light making his bright blue irises damn near glow. His sharp jaw clenches every time his mind runs back to this dreaded 'family' trip. His muscly arms flex with every movement he makes. Every so often, his tongue flicks over his pretty, pink lips. Oh, those lips, how badly I want to feel them dance across my skin. I shouldn't be thinking these kinds of things, but I can't help it. The way he carries himself, so confident and sexy.

It's been a year since our families moved in together. Him, his father, my mother, and me. Our parents got married out of the blue. Honestly, I hadn't even seen much of his father before they announced their engagement, so, it was a surprise they had sprung on us. Then, abruptly uprooting us from our own lives just to come together as a supposed family. We're not family.

His father tries too hard, and Chris is just a douchebag. We bicker so much, yet I can't help but feel extremely attracted to him. There's no doubt in my mind, if he wasn't my stepbrother, I would have been pounced. When we're arguing about who's turn it is for the bathroom, sometimes, I imagine locking us in there and jumping his bones. I know I'm not imagining things, there's an extreme tension between us. However, there's nothing I can do about it.

"Have you even started packing?" His deep voice snaps me from my spiraling thoughts.

I scoff, "Of course, I'm not an idiot. I don't wait until the last minute to do things, like you."

He shakes his head, a smirk pulling to his luscious lips. "I make it work, sweetheart. Just cause you like to be the obedient good little girl."

I turn my head away from him to hide the flush in my cheeks, "Don't call me that."

"Which one?" His smirk grows, "Sweetheart? Or good little girl?"

"Don't call me either of them!" I snap, fulling turning my body to the opposite side of the room.

I can feel my skin burning with desire. I mentally curse myself at my bodily reactions to his simple, yet teasing words. He knows what he's doing, and it's driving me mad. I huff a little before walking off in the direction of my bedroom, his faint chuckling being heard before I close my door.

I jump onto my bed, my limbs sprawling out, and look up at the ceiling. My lips curve upwards, a shit eating grin planting itself on my face. God, I hate him. More so, I hate that I don’t hate him. I hate that I want him as bad as I do. It’s not right.

I spend the rest of the night lying in bed, scrolling through various social medias to keep my mind off of the boy in the room right next to mine. It only seems to work half of the time, my stupid brain continuously wanders back to him. Ugh, why would my mother do this to me? She knows how much I lack self control.

—

The next morning, I spend the first couple of hours getting last minute things ready for our trip. Maybe I lied to Chris last night, saying I had already packed. He doesn’t need to know.

I just got out of the shower and into my room, still wrapped in a towel. I sit on my bed, letting myself cool off and air dry a little bit. After a few minutes of doing nothing, I stand up to dry my hair, only realizing my blow dryer is in the bathroom. I groan and make my way back out into the hall, but when I get to the bathroom door, I realize the shower is running. Of course he’d be in there when I need to grab stuff. After a split second of pondering, I decide to just quickly grab my blow dryer and my brush.

Upon opening the door, steam flows out of the bright room, and I can feel the humidity in there. I scurry to the counter, quickly grabbing my things, when I pause. My eyes staring into the mirror, solely focused on the scene behind me. Our shower door is clear, and though it’s foggy, I can still see right through it.

There, Chris is, in all his glory. His body glistens, water steadily pouring down over him. His hair is stuck to his forehead, his head tilted down while he lets the water run over him. His lean body curving in all the right places. My eyes involuntarily follow his figure down, locking right below his waist. My mouth waters at the sight. His dick hangs down, the same color as his lips, definitely above average. Even from far away, I can see the veins running along side it. My mouth slightly parts at the sight.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or you gonna get in?” He asks, his head still facing the floor.

I gasp, slightly embarrassed that he caught me staring at him. “Don’t be weird!”

“Says the one looking at me like she wants to take a bite.” He chuckles, finally turning his head in my direction.

My face catches fire, the rosy shade deepening the longer we make eye contact. I force myself to look away, quickly grabbing my things and running out of there. How humiliating.

Shutting myself in my room, I pause and let out a deep breath. Before I can help it, another grin makes its way to my face. Wow, he’s hung. I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of certain thoughts. Why am I like this?

I set my stuff on my desk, plugging the blow dryer in to get to work. Making sure my towel is securely wrapped around my chest, I start to dry my hair, brushing through it as I go. My hair is super thick, so it usually takes a good minute to fully dry and get it how I like it.

The loud machine blasts in my ears, so loud that I hadn’t notice the presence in my room. The feeling of warm fingertips brushing the back of my thigh, right below my towel, causes me to jump and shriek in fear, my towel falling in the process. I quickly turn around to be met with Chris and his infamous smirk. I hurriedly bend down, yanking my towel back up to cover myself, but it’s too late. He already saw everything, and it’s evident on his features.

“What are you doing?” I squeal.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence. “You can look at me, but I can’t look at you? That’s not fair, is it?”

“Chris.” I say, swallowing my nerves. “What do you want?”

He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth. “I’m not too sure I’m allowed to answer that. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I open my mouth to say something, yet fall short of words. I can’t speak, I can’t even think. He licks his lips and steps closer to me, his hand now brushing against the front of my thigh, just below the towel. My breath hitches in my throat, my skin tingling underneath his touch. He flattens his whole palm against my thigh, leaning in even closer to me.

“Chris!” His dad’s voice calls out from somewhere on the farther side of the house.

He tsks, his lips brushing against my ear, “I guess you’ll have to find out another time, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he walks off, leaving me standing there with a slack jaw as I stare into the distance. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want him. He’s actually going to be the death of me. He makes it so easy to want to be bad.

I swallow, attempting to lubricate my now dry throat, and get back to getting ready. The entire time, Chris and the way his skin felt on mine never leaving my thoughts. In fact, I spent the remainder of my morning fantasizing about what it would be like to have him. All of him. Safe to say, I had to change my panties before leaving my room.

—

It's been a couple of hours since my little run in with Chris. For the most part, I've managed to keep myself occupied to keep him off of my mind. Yet, every now and then, I can feel my thoughts slipping into a steamy abyss filled with erotic fantasies involving my stepbrother. We're all getting ready to leave, taking trips out to the car, filling it with all of our bags and whatnot.

"The resort just called." My mother announces as we all gather at the front door. "Our room is ready for us."

"Splendid! Let's get this show on the road!" Chris' dad cheers, running off to the car with my mom.

Chris and I watch them before looking at each other. A sly smirk pulls to his lips, yet again, and he nods ahead of him. "After you, sweetheart."

I roll my eyes at the nickname and walk towards the backseat of the car. Whistling rings through the air, causing me to snap my head back. Chris is standing in the same spot, looking me up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Pervert." I mumble, lifting myself onto the seat and start crawling over towards the opposite side of the car.

Before I can even get to my seat, I leap forward with a yelp emitting from my mouth. My head shoots back, my eyes locking with Chris'. He's got that same devilish grin on his face that makes me want to drop my panties.

"What's wrong?" My mom asks from the front seat.

"He-" I start, only to be cut off by Chris.

"She hit her knee on the door."

I glare at him as he climbs in next to me. He shoots me a wink, which I only huff at. I lean over and pinch his arm, causing him to yank it away from me.

"What was that for?" He questions.

"You pinched my ass!" I whisper shout, appalled by his behavior, yet at the same time, turned on.

"Don't act like you didn't like it." He whispers back, his tongue running over his teeth.

I simply shut up, unable to disagree because he's right. I did like it. In fact, I loved it. I roll my eyes once more, annoyance flooding my veins. Not annoyed at him, more so at myself for being so affected by him. It's not right. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, hoping sleep overcomes me.

I don't know how long it's been before my eyes flutter open, the sound of faint music waking me. My eyes squint, adjusting to the streetlamps that shine as we pass by them. I'm suddenly very aware of a warmth to my right. Looking over, I see Chris sat next to me rather than the opposite window like he was before.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice coming out in a low tone.

He looks over at me with furrowed eyebrows, "Minding my business. You should try it sometime, baby."

"Don't be a dick. I just woke up and you're basically sitting on top of me." I scoff, spreading my legs to push his away from me and give myself more room.

That might not have been a good idea. Chris' eyes trail down my body, boring into my parted thighs. I can practically see the gears turning in his head. He, yet again, smirks at me, licking his lips.

He leans into my ear, his warm breath fanning my ear, his voice husky. "Admit it, sweetheart. You'd love it if I was on top of you."

His hand brushes the top of my thigh, his fingertips lightly grazing my bare skin. I have to bite my lip to hold back the breathy moan that threatens to escape due to his words and his touch. When I don't say anything, his hand presses more firmly into me. Very slowly, his hand trails higher and higher, applying the same amount of pressure the whole way up. Today would be the day that I chose to wear a skirt.

My eyes are wide as I watch his hand, my lips slightly parting. I can feel the heat rushing to my face, as well as my core. I feel like I'm on fire. I quickly look at him and notice his gaze hasn't wavered from my face, his brain soaking in my reaction to his movements, trying to burn the image in his mind, so he never forgets it.

A shaky breath leaves my mouth as his hand slides under my skirt, disappearing to do God knows what. I'm stuck in place, not daring to move. I want to see how far he's going to take this; I don't want him to stop. I let out a small gasp as his fingers make contact with my clothed pussy. But just as quick as they're there, a voice moves through the air, and they're gone.

"Are you guys hungry?" His dad asks us, completely oblivious to what his son was doing.

Chris looks at me, awaiting an answer. I gulp, shaking my head, "N-no."

A small chuckle leaves Chris' mouth, his lips brushing against my ear. "I can feel how wet you are. Makes me want to bend you over the console and devour you."

"Oh my God." I mutter, my ears growing hot as I squeeze my legs shut and turn as much as I can to the door.

There's no way I can make it through this trip, absolutely no way. If he keeps this up, I'm going to lose it. I don't even know what he's trying to get out of this. Is he trying to humiliate me? Does he actually want to fuck? I groan, tossing my head back. I'm so screwed.

After what felt like the longest car ride of my life, we finally get to our destination. Our parents wanted to stop a get something to eat, so it took even longer to get to the hotel. We make our way inside, bags on top of bags in our hands. After we get checked in, my mom hands me a room key.

"You guys can head up, me and Jerry are going to make a quick pitstop." She informs Chris and me.

I look at her with an 'are you serious?' look, before my eyes subconsciously advert to Chris. He smiles at her and nods, letting them walk off to wherever. I keep my mouth shut and head to the elevators, him following my tail.

We get to the elevator and only have to wait a moment before the doors open. Walking inside, I glance at the room key to confirm the floor level. Without a word, I press the number '6', the doors shutting almost instantly.

"You know-" Chris begins, a slight curve on his lips. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can see it all over you. You want me as bad as I want you."

I harshly swallow, looking for the right words to say. Again, I'm left stuck stupid. How does he do this? The simplest statements leave me dazed and practically malfunctioning. He slowly walks over to me, backing me into the wall. I stare up at him, anticipating his every move. His body is pressed firmly against mine, causing me to shiver. His face is millimeters from mine. He lifts his free hand, wrapping it around my neck. My breath catches in my throat, my core throbbing at the small yet extreme gesture.

His fingertips slowly trail upwards, grazing over my chin. His thumb rubs across my lips, putting pressure on my bottom one and gently pulling it down. My lips are parted for just a moment before my bottom lips bounces back after he removes his finger. His hand grasps my jaw, his face inching closer and closer to mine.

"I'm going to destroy you." He whispers against my lips.

Before anything else can take place, the elevator dings and the doors open, snapping me from the trance he always seems to put me in. I quickly compose myself and scurry out of there, following the signs on the walls to get to our room. Once I get there, I swipe the card, running in the second the light clicks green. Chris has to catch the door with his foot, because I was not waiting for him.

Getting in, I take my time to admire the place. Everything looks so elegant and luxury. Since our parents are off doing whatever, I take the liberty to choose my bedroom for the week. The first one I walk into is amazing, and I'm satisfied with it. Tossing my bags at the foot of the bed, I lay back on it, stretching my limbs out. My short-lived peace disturbed when Chris comes strolling in with his bags.

"I already got dibs on this room." I say, pushing myself up on my elbows.

He snickers, "Jokes on you, we're roomies now."

"Excuse me?" I gape at him, "Yeah, no."

"Actually, we are. This is a two-bedroom suite."

"Are you serious right now?" I frown.

He hums, "Mhm. As serious as I was about what I said in the elevator."

My face grows hot, and I have to purse my lips to prevent them from curving up into a smile. I'm actually terrible, because why do I love this?

"We're here!" My mom's voice sounds from the living room of the suite.

I let out a breath, slightly relieved, yet slightly disappointed. I'm so conflicted. I can't help but want all the time in the world with Chris, but also never want to be alone with him. I can feel myself losing control, ready to give into the strong temptation. He's not making it easy either.

"I see you guys picked your room." Jerry grins, peeking his head in with a smile.

"As in we have to share?" I question.

"Yeah. I thought your mom told you."

I don't miss Chris' smirk as he listens to us, clearly enjoying the idea of sharing a room. I don't understand why my mother hates me. How could she sign me up for this without even talking to me about it?

"We're all family now, it's no big deal." I hear her chime in as she rounds the corner.

"Yeah, right." I mutter, my face falling at the simple statement.

It's just a slap in the face, a reminder that Chris and I can never be. Regardless of whatever type of relation, it just can't happen. I'll never see them as family, but my mother clearly does. Maybe it's best not to tempt anything.

"I call the right side." Chris smiles at me, our parents now long gone.

"Nice try. You're getting the floor or the couch." I roll my eyes.

He laughs, "Good one, sweetheart. Admit it, you can't wait to share a bed with me."

I only glare at him, a slight pout on my face.

"Cheer up, baby. Just wait until you see I sleep naked." He mutters in my ear, before leaving.

"Fuck me." I whisper to myself, already knowing I'm in for it tonight.

After unpacking my things, I head out into the living room. My mother and Jerry are sitting on the sofa, so I take the loveseat. I sit sideways, kicking my legs up across the rest of it. I cross my arms, relaxing, sinking into the plush cushions. Looking around, I notice the both of them are dressed up. Did we have plans that I'm not aware of?

"Are we going somewhere?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Oh, no." Jerry shakes his head, "I'm taking your mom out tonight. You and Chris will have the place to yourselves."

Just as he says that Chris strolls around the loveseat. He lifts my feet and sits down, placing them on his lap. I go to pull back, but his grip on me is firm. Without a word, his hands are kneading the soft tissue of my feet. I look up at him, my eyes almost submissive, cause why is he being like this?

"When are you guys leaving?" Chris asks them.

"Our reservation is at 8."

I glance at the time on my phone, "It's 7:15 now."

They both gasp in unison, instantly getting up to rush out the door.

"You're leaving?!" I shriek, now realizing I'll be left alone with the devil himself.

"Yes, honey. You'll be fine." My mom pats my arm. "You'll have Chris to keep you company. Help yourselves to whatever."

"Make sure you take care of her." Jerry points a finger at his son.

Chris smirks, eyes locking with mine. "You know I will."

I gulp, my eyes watching them leave as they call out quick 'I love you's'. The sound of the door clicking shut practically rattles my brain, my breathing slightly labored. I feel so nervous, already knowing it's going to be a long night.

"Want to watch a movie?" Chris asks me.

My eyes widen in surprise, that's probably the most normal thing he's said to me all day. He's been super flirty and seductive, and it's working so bad. I've never been so conflicted in my life. I know it's not right, and if anyone were to see what's happening, we'd certainly be locked away, but I can't help it. I'm yearning for him. His sultry words and lustful touches leave me throbbing every single time. I feel like I'm going to explode in his presence.

"I'll take that as a yes." He says, before teasing, "Unless you had something else in mind."

I groan, "Just put something on. I need a water."

I get up and saunter to the kitchen, my insides burning at the thought of what can occur tonight. I feel like it's inevitable. At this rate, if he keeps going, I'm folding like origami. I open the fridge and grab two waters out, immediately opening one and downing half of it. I have to practically mentally prepare myself just to go back in there. Once I do, I notice Chris now sitting in the middle of the loveseat. I choose not to say anything this time and simply sit beside him.

He already has a movie started, so we sit in silence as it plays out in front of us. The entire time, my mind is elsewhere. I can't focus on the movie at all. I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs, feeling uncomfortable. I can't get Chris' words out of my head.

I'm going to destroy you.

Oh, how badly I wish for that right now. His hands caressing every inch of my body. His mouth tasting every bit of skin. His body flush against mine. His dick stretching me in all the right ways, drilling into my sweet spot over and over and over. I have to clench my thighs, the inner turmoil growing. I feel like the air around us is thick, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tension running high between us. Surprisingly, we make it through the movie without any slick remarks or unwarranted touches. Part of me is bummed, yet I force the disappointment down, knowing it's for the best.

"Are you hungry?" Chris asks as we both get up from the sofa.

I shake my head, knowing I won't be able to eat with my current state. "No. I think I'm just gonna shower and hit the sheets."

He nods, "Okay."

I walk into our room, grabbing a towel and heading to the conjoined bathroom. I just need a quick shower to soothe me. The sexual frustration built up in me is almost unbearable, I feel feral. After turning the water on and letting it heat up, I strip from my clothes and get in. I stand underneath the showerhead, the hot water trickling down my skin. I stay there, eyes closed, trying to force the craving for Chris away. After a moment, I quickly wash up, then get out.

The bathroom is foggy, steam wafting through the air. The mirror is covered in condensation, I'm unable to see myself. I dry off, wrapping the towel around my body and heading out into the room. I pause in my steps, seeing Chris sprawled out on the bed.

"Sorry. Didn't think you'd be in here." I mutter, suddenly self-conscious being in just a towel.

"All good, sweetheart." He replies, his eyes scanning over me. "Come join me."

I swallow, "I have to get dressed."

"Come here." He repeats, his eyes dark with what I can only assume is lust.

I stand still, staring at him. I'm actually contemplating crawling into bed with my stepbrother, naked. There's no way I'm doing this. I keep cursing myself in my head as my feet bring me to the side of the bed that he's lying on. I stand there, looking down at him while he stares up at me. His hand comes out, his fingertips brushing against the hem of the towel, just like before. My heart is beating out of my chest right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it just exploded.

I'm taken by surprise when he swiftly grabs ahold of my wait, pulling me onto his lap. My thighs straddle his, my hands nervously keeping hold of my towel in attempt to keep it secure. However, my efforts prove futile when his hands grab the top of it, slowly unraveling it and letting it fall from my torso. I feel dizzy, my entire chest exposed to him. My stomach tightens, my veins flooded with anticipation.

"You're so pretty." He whispers, his fingers running over my abdomen.

"Thank you." I whisper back, my desire for him taking over me completely.

I can't think of anything else except for this moment right now, and what's bound to take place. His hands run up my arms and I can feel the goosebumps littering my skin. My breathing is erratic, I can't focus.

"Do I make you nervous?" He asks, his head tilted slightly.

I shake my head, unable to form words.

"Are you lying to me?"

My mouth has run dry. I can't even speak. My mind is hazy with lust. I want him so bad. I can feel the wetness pooling in between my legs, my core aching for his touch. He licks his lips as his eyes rake over my body. His hands run over my shoulders and down my chest, inevitably taking hold of my breasts. I can't help the whimper that falls from my lips. Finally. He grips the plush skin, squeezing gently yet firm. He moves them in circular motions, his palms applying just the right pressure to my sensitive buds.

"So perfect." He mumbles, his voice raspy.

My head lolls to the side, indulging in the feeling of his hands on me. My eyes flutter closed as he continues to knead them. A gasp slips from me when I feel his warm, wet mouth wrap around one of my nipples. My back involuntarily arches into him, his face full of chest. His touch becomes hungrier, his mouth now harshly sucking while his fingers work the opposite tit. Soft moans escape my mouth, my pussy throbbing for him.

He pulls away from my chest, his hands gliding up my back. I can feel his bulge beneath me, and I have to fight the urge to grind against it. He suddenly pulls me down, an abrupt moan emitting from my throat as the quick movement causes his dick to rub against my clit. His hand grabs ahold of my jaw, pulling my face into his.

He stares at my face, his eyes trying to read my emotions. "Say you want this."

I nod.

"Say it."

"I want this." I reply, my voice quiet yet sure.

With that, his lips smash into mine. Our mouths move together, hungry and feverish. Our tongues fighting for dominance, taking turns exploring one another's mouths. Our heads turn every which way, allowing more access. Our teeth clash together, saliva practically dripping out of our mouths. My hands run through his hair while his run along my body, pulling me impossibly closer.

Without one swift motion, I'm lying on my back with Chris towering over me. My towel is now completely removed, lying next to us on the bed. His hand turns my head to the side, his mouth now working on my neck. His tongue licking over the skin, teeth biting down, sucking every part. My breathing is quick, my body tingling with a burning sensation, desperate for more.

"Chris." I breathe out in a whine.

He hums, "Mm, I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Please." I whine again.

"Begging me like such a good girl, just like I said." He smirks against my skin, moving down my chest.

My hands grip at the back of his shirt, tugging at it, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He gets the hint and sits up, removing it with ease. His hands move down to his sweats, yanking the drawstring loose. In one quick movement, he's left in his boxers. I can see his dick fighting against his boxers, begging to be released. I can't help but reach out and palm him through the cloth.

He tosses his head back with a low moan, "Fuck."

His hand reaches forward, spreading my legs open for him. My pussy on show, leaking with arousal. He's practically drooling at the sight before him. His fingers trail up my thigh in an agonizingly slow pace, leaving my hips thrusting up for just the slightest touch.

"So needy." He smirks, "Such a naughty girl."

Finally, his fingers make contact with my aching clit, eliciting a long moan from me. He rubs it in slow circles, making my body tremble with every movement. He stops for a brief moment as he plunges a finger into my entrance, my body jolting from the sudden sensation.

"So, fucking wet." He groans in contentment.

His finger continues pumping in and out me with his thumb rubbing my clit, and I can't help but grind into his hand. It feels so good, but I want more. To my dissatisfaction, he pulls away, leaving me to cry out at the loss of pleasure. I watch as he pulls his boxers off, tossing them with his sweatpants. His fully erect dick flies up, slapping his stomach. His tip is an angry red, needy for stimulation. I saw it in the shower, but now, up close and personal, I am clenching, ready to wrap around him.

His hands grip my hips, flipping me onto my side. He takes ahold of my thigh, hiking it up for better access. His opposite hand grabs ahold of his cock, stroking it before rubbing the tip through my folds. I bite my lip, my stomach tightening, bracing for penetration, my pussy desperate for it. He slowly sinks into me, fully bottoming out. My jaw falls slack, my mouth vocalizing a drawled-out moan. He shudders inside of me, his eyes closing at the feeling of my pussy snugly swallowing him.

His thrusts are slow and hard, setting a rhythm. One of my hands clench the sheets, the other one rubbing his stomach. My eyes squeeze shut, the pressure instantly building in my stomach. I've been waiting for this all day. His free hand runs up my back and around my chest, harshly squeezing my tit. Lewd moans fill the room; him grunting with every deep thrust, constant whines falling from my lips.

"Taking me so well. Just like a good little slut." He says, his hand moving from my boob to my neck.

His strokes pick up in speed, the bed shaking with every thrust. The knot in my stomach continues to grow, my orgasm sneaking up on me faster than ever. He's fucking me so good. I can't hold back the noises he's pulling out of me. The tip of his dick jams into my sweet spot with just the right amount of force. I'm unraveling fairly quickly. It's so wrong but it feels so right.

"Yes, right there." I cry out, clenching around him. "F-fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You close, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, hm?" He groans out, his body leaning over mine.

"Fuck y-yes. God, please don't stop." I moan, my loud voice bouncing off the walls.

He starts fucking into me even faster, the pleasure almost overwhelming. "I don't plan on it."

My legs shake below him, my knuckles gripping the sheets until they're white. His breath on the back of my neck, his moaning in my ear, both sending me over the edge. My body convulses as euphoria takes over. Pornographic moans leave my mouth as I clench around him, letting go. My juices flowing out, completely coating his dick and dripping down the both of us.

"You feel so good." He whines, "Made just for me."

The bliss is at an all-time high, my mind completely fogged with lust for him. I never want this night to end.

"Mm, want you to fill me up." I whine, pushing back onto him, meeting his thrusts.

His hips sputter as he moans, "Yeah? Filthy little slut wants her stepbrother's baby in her?"

I can't even respond, my mouth hung open as screams leave it. It happens so suddenly, another wave of pleasure washing over me at his words. My hand clings to him, wanting to feel all of him. I'm trembling underneath him as my second orgasm hits. His groans grow louder as his thrusts grow sloppy. With just a few more strokes, his body is heaving over mine as he empties himself inside of me. He pumps a few more times, before completely pulling out and sitting back. Both of us struggle to catch our breaths, exerted from that entire moment.

Suddenly, I'm crying out again as he shoves two fingers into me, pushing his cum back in. "Aht, aht! Can't have that."

I'm still shaking with aftershocks when he lies down beside me, his fingers making their way to my lips and into my mouth. My tongue glides over them, sucking off our mixture. He pulls them away with a groan and turns my head towards his. He places another kiss on my lips; hard and passionate.

"We should probably get dressed." I breathe out after a minute.

"No, just stay like this for a little bit longer. I'll make sure it's taken care of before they get back." He whispers, pulling me into him.

I want to protest, but I'm tired and the thought of sleeping in his arms makes my stomach flutter. So, that's what I do.

a/n : ah bye why do i need this so bad? hope you like it! if it's not for you, just shut up k thanks xx

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #imagine #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #step siblings #smut #request

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bet-on-me-13 · 5 months

Text

The Hades and Persephone AU

So! It had been a coincidence. One of the Rouges Cass had been chasing down had dropped a stray Bullet Casing, and she had managed to miss it as she ran after them. All they could hear through the Comms was her startled yelp as she tumbled 3 Stories, directly onto her Back.

Batman had rushed to the scene, hoping that his daughter was still alive, but when he got there he came across a very different sight. A Tall, shadow covered Knight Carrying Cass in his Arms. Before he could do anything, the Shadow Knight turned away and walked deeper into the Alleyway, were a Lazarus Green Portal stood waiting.

Batman could only watch as his critically injured daughter was kidnapped by some sort of Dark Armored Demon. And into a Portal glowing with the same light as a Lazarus Pit no less.

When he returned to the Cave, Bruce immediately contacted Constantine. Within the Hour, Constantine had arrived and had been lead to the scene where Cass had been taken.

"Well, I don't know what you did to catch their ire but it seems like Orphan was kidnapped by a Realms Being." He explained, "And by the looks of it, by the Right Hand of the Ghost King himself. How did you manage this?"

"Where can we find her?" Asked Batman in a Hard Tone. This was his Daughter, and she had just been kidnapped by Royalty from another Realm. He didn't know why, but they were going to pay.

"Well, the Ghost Zone is a treacherous Realm. Ordinarily I would advise against even considering going there, but I know you will either way."

Constantine gave them Directions to a small town in Illinois, where supposedly a pair of Techno-Mages had managed to open a Permanent Portal the the Ghost Zone. They would have all the Weapons, Armor, and Transportation he would need to venture into the Zone.

Finding the Tecno-Mages was easy (though they preferred the term Ecto-Biologists), and surprisingly convincing them that they needed their help was even easier. Once Batman explained that his Daughter had been kidnapped by a Being from the Zone, they offered their help immediately.

"We understand, if it had been one of our own Kids who had been kidnapped, we would be doing the exact same. If only we could get into contact with our Son, he has connections in the Zone that may be have been useful, but he's been busy for the past few days."

After a day of preparing, the Team was ready to delve into this alternate dimension to save their Missing Family Member.

...

Meanwhile Cass is living out her Mythologically Accurate Romantic Fantasy (I have a headcanon that Cass adores myths). She was basically Kidnapped like Persephone, except it was under very different circumstances.

Basically, David Cain had made a deal with the Previous Ghost King. David would be given access to Fresh Lazarus Pits for the League, and in return the Ghost King would be given his daughters hand in marriage upon her Death. And while Cass was technically still alive, her Near-Death Experience had drawn enough Ecto to her that it pushed her Liminality past the point of Human Limits. She was no longer technically Alive, so the Contract had activated.

Thankfully, when Fright Knight noticed his new Queen-To-Be's condition, he had rushed her to the Far Frozen to be healed. Then he brought her to the Castle and had informed Danny of the development.

Now, Neither of them was really ready to be married, but a Contract like that needed to be canceled by the one who made it. And Pariah was still locked in his Box. So, they had delved into the Ghost Writers Library to see if they could find a Loophole.

And Study Dates have never been so fun.

Even though she isn't ready to be married yet, Cass still thinks that Danny is kind of cute. And she likes his goofy little smile, and his slightly glowing eyes, and his smooth white hair, and-

Oh, that Persephone comparison might have been a little more accurate than she thought...

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Cassandra Cain #Cass #Cass is a Liminal #When she fell off the roof she was pushed just beyond the limits of human liminality and became a True Liminal #Like the Amity Parkers #So she is technically not a Living Thing anymore #Cass was sold off by David Cain as a Kid because he decided that she would be of use to him even of she ever died #Waste not want not or something #Danny did not know that Pariah had managed to make a Contract from inside the Coffin #Apparently if he had gotten a Bride he would have been able to facilitate his escape somehow #But Danny stealing the Throne had ruined his plans #Now Danny and Cass have been trying to find a loophole in the Contract so Cass can go home #Meanwhile #The Bats: *Doom Slayer Music*#The Bats are just battling their way through the Zone to the Kings Castle #They think that the Zone is a Deadly Dimension of Human-Hating Monsters #Because they can't go 5 feet without being attacked #In reality those are all the Ghosts looking to see if the Rumors of Fighting Humans in the Zone are true #Because Humans that can fight in the Zone are the most fun to battle #They find a loophole where Cass just needs to spend 3 Months in the Zone every Year #At first she thinks that she'll have to spend 3 consecutive months #But spending a few days at a time visiting her Boyfriend works too #It's just more efficient

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supernovafics · 8 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.6k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, “the beatles” slander (sorry?), just a lil bit of angst

summary: in which you force you and steve to have a housewarming party

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

“Oh no, you’re playing The Beatles at full volume... On a scale of one to ten, how worried should I be for you right now?”

Hearing Steve’s voice right then put a timestamp on how long you’d been in your current position— lying in the dark on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment, an oversized hoodie, which just so happened to be Steve’s, covering your body; even the hood was pulled over your head because you wanted to feel completely cocooned.

He finished his shift at Family Video at seven and the drive usually took no more than twenty minutes, and you’d gotten home from your last class around five. That meant you’d been sulking for over two hours. A part of you felt a bit disappointed in yourself.

Not enough to stop sulking and get up from the couch, though.

Steve flicked on the light, which made you groan and pull on the strings of the hoodie so that your eyes were covered too, and then he walked over to where the record player sat atop a low shelf that was full of books, magazines, and random trinkets including a pink piggy bank that contained stray arcade tokens rather than actual money. He turned off the record player, putting a stop to the Abbey Road vinyl that you had been playing on repeat for hours. You absolutely detested The Beatles so whenever you were in a melancholic mood, it felt only right to play their music.

“Our neighbors probably hate us now,” Steve said as he joined you on the couch, moving your legs for a moment so that he could sit down and then placing them over his lap. “If we don’t get the cookie basket from Miss Johnson for Christmas, I fully blame you.”

He expected that to get a laugh or at least a smile out of you. The mention of the sweet old woman a few doors down who had given you two a welcome basket full of freshly baked muffins when you moved in and then promised to bring you the cookies that she always made and gave to people in the building during the holidays.

You didn’t do either of those things though. Your mouth felt too stuck in a straight line to even think about smiling. Therefore, you instead disregarded everything Steve had said since he’d entered the apartment and mumbled, “Why are guys such idiots?”

He placed a hand over his heart as if he’d just been wounded. “Ouch.”

You pulled the hood off your head and then propped yourself up by your elbows to finally look at him. “Obviously, you’re the exception.” You then thought about your words for a brief moment. “Well, sometimes.”

“Double ouch,” He said. “But yes, guys are idiots. Which one are you talking about, in particular? Charlie?”

You sighed and looked away. “Sadly.”

“He’s lasted longer than I expected,” Steve told you. He fully thought that the crush you had on this guy from your early morning Statistics class wouldn’t stem past a few weeks.

“At this point, I wish I didn’t like him anymore,” You responded and then looked at Steve again, a small amused smile gracing your lips as you thought of something. “Any hot people come into Family Video lately?”

Steve simply laughed and shook his head at you.

It was almost too easy for you to develop a crush on someone. So much so that many of them you wouldn’t even mention to Steve or your other friends because of how fast they’d come and go.

Most of the time, the inevitable abrupt ending of the crushes would leave you feeling something adjacent to heartbreak because most of the guys you’d ended up liking were, in fact, idiots, or you’d feel disappointment because your feelings never lived up to how they were at the beginning of the crush. But there was always still something about the idea of liking someone that was surprisingly fun to you. You wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a hopeless romantic, but it sometimes felt as if you were exactly that.

You finally sat up from the couch and moved close to Steve. “Okay, spare me the supportive best friend ‘we’ve known each other since we were ten and I only want the best for you’ spiel for a few moments and just answer a quick question for me, okay?”

Although he was completely confused and would’ve killed for more context, Steve nodded at your current antics. “Okay.”

“If we had just finished a really hard test, and you were worried about how you did on it, and I did this,” You grabbed his hand, linking it with yours and giving him the sweetest smile that was typically only reserved for when you were hardcore flirting with someone. “While saying ‘I’m sure you did great,’ you would understand that I have a massive crush on you, right?”

He glanced down at your intertwined hands for a brief moment before ultimately nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly,” You said as you dropped Steve’s hand and then slumped back against the couch. “So Charlie pulling away— no smile back or anything— and simply saying, ‘Thanks. You probably did good too,’ in response to that means either he can’t read my stupidly obvious flirting cues, or he’s not into me. And, honestly, I’m almost certain it’s the second one.” Suddenly you were hit with a fresh wave of sadness and you pulled the hood over your head once again. “Please put back on The Beatles and let me wallow in peace for the rest of the night. I promise I’ll be better by the morning.”

“I’d rather hear Harold running on his squeaky wheel all night than The Beatles on repeat,” He said and you actually perked up at the mention of the pet you two had gotten only a few months ago, barely a week after you’d fully moved into the apartment, the brown and white furry creature formally known as “Harold the Hamster.”

Currently, he was sleeping only a few feet away in his cage that sat on the coffee table. Somehow he managed to be completely unbothered by the music you’d been loudly playing.

“Okay, how about this,” Steve started. “Let’s order a pizza from that place close by. I’ll even suffer and let you put olives on it.”

You pushed the hood off your head again so that you could look at your best friend, only slightly intrigued by what he was saying. “Keep talking…”

“And then we’ll watch The Breakfast Club because you love it and you immediately rented it out from Family Video when we got it in,” He continued and you perked up even more at the mention of one of your favorite movies. “Which, by the way, is a copy that is weeks overdue and has probably racked up an insane amount of late fees at this point.”

You smiled at him. “Good thing I know someone who works there. And he would never let me pay any late fees.”

“Wow, he sounds like a great guy.”

You shrugged as you looked away from Steve. “Meh, he’s alright.”

He immediately poked your side, causing you to laugh loudly. “I’m gonna make you pay all of the late fees now.”

“That’s very evil,” You said with a shake of your head, but you were still laughing because you knew that he wasn’t being serious.

Steve ordered the pizza as you put the Breakfast Club tape in and then you both settled on the couch again. You had probably watched the movie five times since you rented it, but somehow you hadn’t grown tired of it yet. Instead, it managed to effectively take your mind off of Charlie and the entire situation with him, at least for the time being.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve may have been the one who worked at Family Video, but you knew that place so well it was almost as if you worked there too. His almost never-changing schedule was practically seared into your brain, and you knew the exact times the place was always busy and the moments when it was pretty much dead aside from a handful of random customers.

Somehow Fridays at noon were one of the store’s emptiest times.

Steve was standing behind the counter sorting through movies on a cart when you walked in.

“Hello,” You smiled at him. “I come bearing one not-at-all overdue copy of The Breakfast Club and very fun news.”

Steve was quick to smile back when he saw you, but it dropped when it seemed as if he remembered something. “Shouldn’t you be in your Psychology class right now?” Just like you knew his schedule like the back of your hand, he knew yours. “Your parents will find a way to blame me if you’ve dropped out of school, y’know.”

“My professor canceled last minute; her sister went into labor. So, don’t worry, you won’t be hearing any sort of lecture from my parents,” You answered as you dug in your bag for the movie.

Steve grabbed it from your outstretched hand and placed it on the cart before looking back at you. “What's your news?”

“Okay, so remember when we were ten and on that cruise, and you liked this random girl from New Jersey— Rebecca, I’m pretty sure her name was?” You said. “She was sixteen, completely unattainable, but I still tried to help you talk to her.”

That cruise was actually when you and Steve met. It was a very weird serendipitous kind of moment where your parents bumped into his at the buffet one of the first few days and found out that they not only lived in Indiana, but in a town that was two over from yours, and they even had a son that was the same age as you.

You had been somewhere sitting by the pool when this romcom-esque “meet cute” happened, but when your parents found you, they introduced you to Steve. Although at first, it felt like a friendship that was being forced upon you both, it was still nice to have someone other than your parents— actually, someone better than your parents— to hang out with on the ten-day trip.

You beat him countless times at air hockey at the arcade onboard and the two of you spent most of the nights successfully sneaking into the “club” that was only meant for kids fifteen and up— which was where his crush on Rebecca began and subsequently ended.

“Yes, I remember that, not my finest moment. But, I also don’t blame her, it probably would’ve been weirder if she wanted to flirt back to a ten-year-old,” Steve responded and then furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, I’m confused, though. Is your news that you found her or something?”

You immediately shook your head at his question. “No, what I’m gonna say actually has nothing to do with that, but I wanted to remind you of how supportive I was of you during that time, and how supportive you should be of me right now with what I’m about to say.”

“I’ll always support you,” He didn’t hesitate to tell you. “Unless you’re pitching the matching tattoos idea again. And then, in that case, I guess our decade-long friendship will have to end here.”

“One day I’ll eventually convince you to do it; mark my words. And the tattoo will be one of those stupidly cringey ones where we each get a flower with the other person’s name blooming out of it.”

Steve did nothing but groan and shake his head at you, which only made you laugh.

“But, anyway, my actual news is that we’re having a party tonight,” You said and then continued before he could say anything in response just yet. “Kind of like a housewarming party. I realized that we never really had one.”

“We did have one.”

You shook your head and let out a sound that was a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “Robin and Eddie coming over on our first night and all of us smoking weed on the fire escape and then falling asleep on our mattresses in the living room because we didn’t have any furniture yet did not count as our housewarming party.”

Steve laughed a bit. “It was very fun, though.”

“It was great,” You agreed with a nod. “But, not an actual party, so that's why we're having one tonight.”

Steve only looked at you for a moment and you knew that he was trying to read you. He was the only person that you were certain could completely see through you— he could tell what you were feeling even when it was too hard for you to put those muddled thoughts into words, and he could see right through all of the bullshit you’d spew at times. Sometimes it annoyed you, but most times it felt nice to be so completely seen and understood.

It only took a second for things to seemingly click into place for him. “Is all of this about Charlie?”

“No,” You immediately answered, but you didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

Of course, Steve didn’t believe you at all and he didn’t have to verbally say that for you to know, the unspoken words were clear in the deadpan look he gave you.

“Okay, fine. Yes, it is,” You said and then sighed as you leaned against the counter. “I saw him today and he said that he was planning to go to this party tonight and he wasn’t that excited about it, but it’s better than doing nothing on a Friday. And then for some insane reason, I blurted out that he should come to my party tonight instead. In hindsight, I probably should’ve immediately backtracked when I said that, but I didn’t and instead, this whole “housewarming party” plan was born.”

“Is there any way I can say no to this?” Steve asked and you quickly shook your head.

“Sorry, but no. Remember what happened on the cruise. Remember how I tried to be helpful with Rebecca,” You told him as you walked around so that you were behind the counter with him. You began sifting through the cart which was full of movies that people had just returned. “And honestly, I just wanna use this party as a last-ditch effort to see if he likes me, and if not then I’ll just make out with someone else at the party to get over him. So, actually, this is a win-win situation no matter what, and this party needs to happen.”

Steve only sighed in response at first, which made you look at him again. He then was quiet for a moment before ultimately nodding and plastering on the brightest and fakest smile you’d probably ever seen from him. “Okay, fine, let’s throw the best two months late housewarming party ever.”

You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There were a lot of things Steve wanted to tell you.

One of the main things being how even though he hadn’t met him yet, he knew that Charlie definitely didn’t deserve you basically throwing a whole party for him just for you to see if he liked you back. Also, how actually most of the guys you ended up crushing on didn’t deserve your attention for a second.

However, he knew that he couldn’t tell you any of that. Not when you’d been there through his ups and downs when it came to dating, and not when you were always supportive; even though a lot of the time it was easy to tell that you weren’t the biggest fan of the girls he went out with.

Early on in your friendship, it was unspokenly decided that bearing through each other’s plethora of shitty relationships just came with the territory of being best friends, and whenever things inevitably went downhill you’d both just be there for each other to pick up the metaphoric pieces.

However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t internally roll his eyes when about an hour into the party he finally did meet Charlie. It was a brief interaction where you introduced them when he entered the apartment and then Steve almost immediately walked away because he knew that you wanted to be alone with Charlie. Well, as “alone” as you two could be with a party that was in full swing around you.

Your shared apartment quickly became full of at least forty people. It was a mix of people from your classes, the small handful of people from high school that you still sometimes talked to, a bunch of people that Steve knew, and anyone else that Robin and Eddie also wanted to invite. For a party thrown together at the last possible second, you both had to admit that it was a pretty solid turnout.

And also for a party that Steve hadn’t really wanted to have in the first place, he was actually having a good time. He was playing a drinking game version of Uno with Robin and a few others circled around the coffee table; Harold’s cage was placed next to him on the couch for the time being.

After a second round in a row where Robin won— she was always crazy good at the game— Steve wanted to ask you to join because he knew how much you loved the game, even though you were very bad at it. He was even tipsy enough that he would’ve been fine with Charlie joining in as well.

He looked around, trying to find you, and it was something that should’ve happened in seconds. No matter what, it was always somehow easy to spot each other in any sort of crowded room— how effortless it always was almost felt equivalent to some weird kind of party trick. However, this time, Steve couldn’t find you.

At first, he thought that that meant that things were going well with Charlie, but when he eventually spotted him standing in the kitchen talking and smiling at a girl who was definitely not you, he had a feeling that things had probably gone the opposite.

“I’m gonna sit out this round,” Steve said to Robin as he got up from the couch.

The short walk to your bedroom was more difficult than expected because maneuvering through all of the people in the apartment proved to be a battle in itself. He ignored the sign on your door that said “Keep Out!” which you put up right before the party started to discourage people from going into your room and using it as a place to make out or have sex; Steve also had a sign on his door.

When he walked in, he didn’t see you on your bed or sitting at your desk, or even lying on the floor, so he headed to the door right next to your closet that led to your bathroom.

“Hey, you in there?”

Twenty minutes ago, when you went into your bathroom, you had initially thought that you didn’t want to talk to or see anyone— you wanted to wallow alone and in silence. But, it turned out that hearing Steve’s voice right then didn’t annoy you or make you upset. Instead, it was the exact voice you wanted to hear in that moment— because, of course, Steve never counted as just anyone.

You were sitting in your empty white tub. The cool porcelain felt nice against the exposed parts of your skin that the dress you were wearing didn’t cover, and you thought that the small confines of your bathroom would be the perfect place to spend the rest of your night; a night that had gone downhill almost too fast.

“Yes,” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Can I come in?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yes. But, please don’t turn on the light.”

“Okay.”

You heard the door open then close and then the sound of the shower curtain being pushed to the side caught your attention and you looked up at Steve.

“What happened?” He asked. Your eyes had long adjusted to the darkness so you could make out his face fairly well and you could see the concerned look on it.

“I don’t wanna lie and say nothing, but I also don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”

“That’s okay,” He said with a small nod. “Can I sit?”

You didn’t verbally answer and instead simply pulled your knees up to make room in the tub for him. He got in, pulling his knees up as well, and for a few moments, it was quiet. You could faintly hear the sound of music coming from the living room, but you couldn’t fully make out whatever vinyl Eddie decided to play on the record player.

“Someone gave us a plant,” Steve told you, breaking the silence. “Housewarming gift.”

“Oh, no,” You responded with a small sigh. You and Steve were probably the least “green thumb” people ever. “It’s gonna be dead in a week.”

“She said it’s a low-maintenance one so we’ll see how true that is,” He said as he shrugged. “Now that I’m thinking about it, though, is it weird that we can easily take care of a hamster, but a plant will barely last a week with us?”

You shook your head. “Harold provides us constant love and affection— even when he’s running on his squeaky wheel at three in the morning, it’s somehow still adorable— a plant does not do that. So, which one are we gonna remember to care for?”

“Very, very true.”

“At least one person gave us a gift, though,” You said. “Now that I’m remembering that we called this a housewarming party, I’m actually kinda upset that we didn’t get any more presents. Where’s our fancy plates and cookware, or even a nice throw blanket?”

You were only slightly joking with your statement, you would’ve actually loved getting a blanket.

Steve laughed a bit. “If that’s what you wanted then we should’ve invited our moms and their friends.”

“Fuck, we really should’ve done that when we moved in. Such a missed opportunity.”

“I fully think that if we did do that our apartment would look eerily similar to Miss Johnson’s,” Steve said and you could imagine it completely. Frilly white curtains in the living room instead of the black ones that were currently up that blocked out the sun perfectly, and flowery pillows on the gray couch instead of the sage green ones that you found on sale a few weeks ago.

You inwardly shuddered at the thought. “Okay, yes, that’s probably true, but at least we would be using nice plates and not the Mickey Mouse ones we got from that thrift shop.”

Steve jokingly gasped, offended. “I love those Mickey plates, actually.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Just for a moment, it was nice to completely forget about what happened not even an hour ago and what led you to essentially hide away in your bathroom in the first place.

Things got quiet again and it was the kind of silence that you liked; the kind that made you feel completely comfortable with spending the rest of the night avoiding everything and staying right there in your tub with Steve, and you knew that he would’ve been okay with that too. Even though your bodies would’ve probably started aching after just thirty minutes of being in this position, and he was taller so it would be worse for him, he wouldn’t have complained.

You focused on the muffled sound of the music playing in the living room. This time you managed to make out the familiar beat of the song; Somebody to Love by Queen. You let out a sigh because that song playing right then somehow felt way too on the nose.

Steve reached over and lightly poked your knee. “You okay?”

You were so close to pushing the question away again, avoiding the topic and bringing up something else completely— maybe saying that you actually loved those damn Mickey Mouse plates too— but you actually didn’t feel like brushing the topic away anymore.

“He doesn’t like me,” You abruptly said, voice quiet. “I was tired of trying to read between lines and shit, so I just asked him, and he said no.”

You noticed the sad look cross Steve’s face, which only made a fresh wave of embarrassment and sadness wash over you, but you kept going before he could say anything just yet. “And then to make that whole moment even more embarrassing for me, after he said no he pointed at this girl— I don’t know her name, I think Robin invited her— and asked if I knew if she was single or not.”

Steve’s response of “What the fuck,” was immediate and it was really nice hearing how angry he was on your behalf and it made you smile a bit.

“This past hour has been extremely humbling for me. And I know I said I’d find someone to make out with if things didn’t work out with Charlie, but I’m not even in the mood to do that,” You told him as you leaned back against the cool tub and closed your eyes. “And you wanna know what the worst part of all of this is?”

“What?” “I’m not even drunk right now, so I’ll sadly remember all of this tomorrow.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected Steve to say in response to that, but you fully did not expect him to laugh. You opened your eyes and lightly kicked his leg. “Wow, thank you for laughing at my pain.”

“I’m sorry. I am a little drunk right now, so you saying that you’re not is kind of funny because it feels like the roles are reversed,” He said and you slightly hated how right he was. At any party you went to, he was usually the sober-ish one helping you out whenever you drank too much. “Robin and I were playing the Uno drinking game with some people.”

“What? I can’t believe I missed that.”

“We can go play it now. You’d honestly probably win for once since you’re the only one of us who isn’t drunk.”

“Ha ha,” You said with a roll of your eyes as you reached forward so that you could playfully hit him. “I know I’m the worst at that game, but it doesn’t make it any less fun.”

“Okay, come on, let’s go play,” Steve said before standing up, and then reaching his hands out toward you so that he could help you up.

He was trying to cheer you up, you could clearly see that, and you almost took him up on his suggestion. But, the thought of leaving your bathroom or even the comfort of the tub didn’t sit well with you. Mainly since you were unsure if Charlie was still out there and you didn’t want to see him or what he was doing because you knew you’d only feel embarrassed all over again. Yes, it was your apartment and you could’ve easily kicked him out if he was still there, but it felt so much easier to simply stay right where you were.

You looked up at Steve and shook your head. “I don’t really wanna play, actually.”

Steve sat back down with you. “Okay, I haven’t seen you this upset over a guy in a long time. What is it about Charlie? Why is he so special?”

It only took a second for an answer to come to your mind because it was something that you had actually been thinking about a lot lately but had yet to verbalize it.

“I don’t– I don’t even think it’s really about him specifically. It’s just, I’m so tired of having crushes— of liking a guy and it going absolutely nowhere… I want something real. It’s been what feels like forever, and the last time was with that guy whose name we will never say in this house. And we both know how that horrific relationship ended.” It was rare that you ever talked about that relationship anymore, so hearing you mention it right then— even in just a minor way— actually surprised Steve, it even surprised you a little bit. That relationship was something that went on from the end of your Sophomore year of high school to the middle of Junior year; close to a year of your life that you really wished you could get back because you put up with a lot of shit that you now knew you shouldn’t have.

“I want something good for once, and I thought that maybe I could have that with Charlie. I thought maybe he wasn’t an asshole. But, now I’m back at fucking square one, and it’s just so…” You trailed off with a sigh, not bothering to finish your statement.

“It’ll happen. You’ll find someone. Someone actually good,” Steve told you, his voice was soft and you could hear the sincerity behind his words.

You let out a sigh and leaned your head back against the wall. “Sometimes I hate talking about relationship stuff with you.”

“What? Why?” Steve asked. He sounded genuinely confused and for a second you felt bad because there wasn’t supposed to be anything you didn’t like talking about with him— you were best friends.

“Because you can get a date with any girl ever, and you could probably easily be in a committed, serious thing if you wanted to. Meanwhile, I’m getting rejected left and right or falling for complete idiots,” You answered, letting the words fall out and not really thinking about them too much because they just felt way too true. However, once they fully registered in your head, you could feel yourself inwardly cringing. “Ew. Oh, God, I sound pathetic. Please forget I said anything.”

“It’s not true,” Steve told you with an immediate shake of his head. You almost said “Which part?” but he continued before you could ask that question. “I go on dates, yeah. But, none of them are close to, or are even leading to, something real. Even if I wanted it to, the girls I date don’t want something real with me.”

You considered his words for a second. “Well, in that case, they’re idiots.”

“Charlie’s an idiot too.”

“Cheers to that,” You responded. “God, I wish I was drunk right now.”

Steve laughed at your words and then opened his mouth to say something. For some reason, you had a feeling that he was going to try and coax you out of the bathroom again, and you were still unsure if you wanted to get up just yet, so you decided to say something before he could. “Do you ever want something serious?”

He was quiet for a second, as if really thinking about your question. “I don’t know… It changes a lot.” You nodded at that before he continued. “Most of the time I think I do, though.”

“Well, with what you just said about the girls you date and with what happened to me tonight, I think you and I are just gonna be alone together forever.”

He let out a small laugh. “I think so too.”

You smiled at him. “And I know that should sound at least a little bit sad, but right now, it honestly doesn’t.”

He smiled back at you. “Yeah, that actually sounds okay.”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything else because the sound of the door opening caught both of your attention.

“Okay, two things,” You both recognized Robin’s voice before she pulled back the curtain to look down at you two. “One, I really need to pee so I need you both to get out of here, please. And two, Eddie pulled Harold out of his cage and is trying to teach him to do tricks.”

You groaned as you started standing up. “Oh, God. Not again.”

Steve followed suit, standing up as well, as he rolled his eyes. “Why is that always his go-to thing to do when he’s high?”

Robin laughed, you easily noticed how tipsy she was. “And what makes it even funnier is that he does this all the time but Harold has not actually learned any “trick” yet.”

“The day that Eddie somehow teaches him how to “roll over,” I will pass away in shock,” You said as you adjusted your dress, fixing how much it had ridden up while you were sitting in the tub.

You and Steve stepped out of your bathroom to let Robin use it. But, you hesitated to open your bedroom door and let you two step back into the party happening in the rest of the apartment.

Steve easily noticed your hesitation and his hand found yours, giving it a light reassuring squeeze. “You handle Eddie, and if Charlie is still here, I’ll tell him to leave, okay?”

You inwardly sighed in relief hearing him say that because, of course, he knew the exact thing you had been worried about.

“Thanks.” There was so much more said in the simple one-word— thank you for reading my mind, thank you for always being able to do so, thank you for being the best goddamn person in my life.

Steve nodded and gave your hand another squeeze, hearing all of those underlying words and then some. “I have been waiting all night to do this, actually, so thank you. And we’re playing the Uno drinking game after.”

You smiled at that and gave him a quick nod. “Okay.”

You then opened your door and stepped out, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze of your own before pulling away as you started making your way toward Eddie, who was sitting on the couch with Harold in his lap. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected when you briefly noticed Charlie standing in your kitchen and talking to the same girl he had pointed out to you earlier.

“Edward Munson put Harold back in his cage right now.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(also requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

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nmakii · 2 months

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Omg ! I didn't think you'd actually respond !! We're gonna fly away from here is easily one of the best ones in the series!! It's so Twisted and disturbing but almost domestic... (Also tysm for including my name idea in your story, Idk where it came from, I just liked it and I appreciate you!) I digress. I've returned with a concept. Al almost always has a plan when he does something. I don't know where you want to go with the second child but this won't be too focused on that one...for now. I really liked how you interpreted Alastor being a weasel and weaseling his way back into the families life and was thinking about how many I wonder about if he has a plan right now, like not a long term one, obviously, but a very specific one for a 'short term'. Women back then, especially in the south weren't allowed to have bank accounts so finicial trapping works well in this case. Also just kinda the ability to turn their kids against her would be enough to terify me. People talk about the 1950's housewife, but oh my god, 1920's housewives were a new kind of depressed. I, personally, don't think Alastor is the type of physically abuse women. No, he's far too classy for that. Instead, like I said, I think he'd either use his status in their house to trap his wife. We were able to run away while we were pregnant and alone, but we have a child now...and would we be willing to leave our child with him? No, I don't think I would, personally. This was just me rambling. K, love u, currently hyperfixated on this au. Byeee !!!! _ Cherry Anon!

DON’T REALLY WANT NO TRUST FUND BABY

[before reading this, read the rest of the story!]

— seems as if alastor found out your little secret

— UR TOO SWEET I SC THIS ON MY IG STORY AND YAPPED TO MY BOY BSF FOR AN HOUR AB IT IM BLUSHING SO HARDDDD!! ABUSE WAS LIT MY LAST SOCIAL STUDIES LESSON FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR MY TCH YAPPED AB FINANCE SO HARD 🤭🤭

being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. but, behind the closed curtains, alastor did things that would’ve made lucifer shake in his boots.

no, he didn’t hit you. his mother would kill him if he hit his wife. but, just because alastor never hit you, didn’t mean he didn’t abuse you.

he tormented you in the worst way possible, through noah. and now, emilia.

it’s been 3 years. your little emilia lives up to her name, a cute little girl who’s eager to win. and, little noah is now a big boy, double digits and all.

and, since you’ve returned back to his house, alastor has done nothing but twist your babies’ minds. ‘once upon a time, mama wanted to run away from daddy… so, she ran away and took big brother with her. daddy was sooo worried for mama and big brother though… daddy was able to track mama down, and took her home!’ he cooed to your daughter, bouncing her in his arms— with you right beside him!

you wanted to yell; scream. of course, emilia was too young to understand what alastor was saying. but, still— the fact that he was trying to tell your children that he was some sort of white knight who saved you from yourself. you wanted nothing less, but to snap that neck of his like a twig.

you really shouldn’t act so brashly though. to outsmart alastor, you have to think like him. think of what’s smarter in long run.

alastor was ‘kind’ enough to give you an allowance. $200 every week for groceries and whatever you may need. he’s even so kind as to let you have some ‘private bonding’ with noah and emilia as they accompany you to the farmer’s market.

thankfully, you had a father who wanted to make his little girl survived even without a husband. and so, you had to hear all of his ramblings about finance. saving about 45% each week for 3 years… was about $14,000!

if you saved just a little more, you’d be semi-financially independent until you can get a proper job to take care of your children. it was run-away money, so to speak.

you hid the money in noah’s room. after all, who would expect money there? especially $14,000? and, it worked, for a while. every monday, while you tucked him into bed, you brought the money with you and hid it behind his dresser.

until, what had seemed like a normal tuesday. you came home from the tailor’s, getting back a dress that noah accidentally tore. when you came home, it was only two hours after noon. and despite that, alastor was home.

“a-alastor..! what are you doing home so early? you have a broadcast in 2 hours…” you narrowed your eyes at alastor, on the floor with your children, many new toys surrounding them. “ah, darling! i decided to pick up our children early, and we may have splurged on our little shopping spree…” he smugly grinned. “oh..? where’d you get the money?” you raised your eyebrow, closing the door and laying your bearings on the dining table.

“funniest story ever, my love! there was a random stash of money in noah’s room! seems as if the tooth fairy came early!” he laughed. random stash of money in noah’s room..? “oh. i see.” your breath stopped for a minute, thinking of what kind of consequences could come from it.

“do you have any idea how that money landed there?” he side-eyed you, expecting a lie. “perhaps it was from the old owners? you know this house, there’s so many secrets in here.” you said. “i see… i suppose you are right, darling!” he giggled.

you were back on square one. financially dependent on your husband, if you could even call him ‘husband’. as you climbed up the stairs, you heard alastor whisper to your son. “you see that? momma lied. she got less talkative when papa asked her a question.”

this is what alastor’s been teaching your son. as much as you want to protest, you did lie.

oh, how much you wished for much more simpler times. playing with your baby boy in the kitchen as you make little treats together for his snack at school. and now, the boy alastor’s turning him into— a cunning sociopath, the lord only knows what he will teach your daughter.

this is just a minor setback, it has to be.

#I WORD DUMPED OMFG #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 1 year

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Mammal bias is esp rampant in the pet community. I've had pet reptiles and spiders/tarantulas since I was about 10 and being told right to me face that the animals I cared for and cherished were gross and weird and some even "jokingly" staid they would gladly stomp on.

Nothing against dogs and cats but if you wouldn't say that about someone's dog or cat why would you say that to anyone who loves their pets?

Yup yup yup. Honestly, I've always known mammal bias was a thing, and when I majored in biology it was shoved down my throat, but I kind of figured its scope was limited or not really that damaging until I got my pet birds.

Apartments list themselves as pet friendly, but they only ever mean cats and dogs (and good luck trying to find ones that have other pets listed as okay online - same for temporary lodging)

Vets are usually only trained in cats and dogs, and it is impossible to find vets for other species close by - sometimes, at all - fish literally are done a major disservice alone

Homes and group living areas like townhouses, apartment buildings, etc. are not built with the safety of non-catdog pets in mind. How many have linked ventilation systems, which would endanger birds to emissions from other homes?

Service animals can only be dogs. Because dogs were literally bred to be our obedient servants. Never mind that other animals are more intelligent, and can also be trained. Just dogs.

Heck, cats and dogs even form a binary! Are you a cat lover or a dog lover? If you say neither, you get weird looks, and are accused of hating animals! Even though that's only two animals out of the billions!

And of course there's the death threats. Whether its someone threatening to kill someone's pet tarantula, to stomp on their snake, or eat their chicken, that just comes up again and again.

Cats and Dogs are elevated to essentially human status, because they are companion animals in our society and seen as part of the family. But no one can fathom that other pets are seen as family, too, that we'd like the same level of care and respect given to them.

like take this example: many people suggest eating non-cat/dog pets on the internet, and they're hardly ever called out or criticized. "It's just a joke!" and all that. Never mind these pets are beloved animals, and not actually a threat to anyone. Meanwhile, outdoor cats are actively causing ecological collapse. But if you suggest any form of aggressive population control - not of people's pets, of feral cats - you get called a monster. These aren't even beloved animals, just the *concept* of a cat is enough to make people lose their heads. this is a blatant double standard. an actively damaging double standard.

anyways if you want a non cat/dog pet remember to research vets and housing rules for your area before you accidentally screw yourself.

I would be remiss if I didn't add an afterthought that while small mammal pets and other mammals other than cats and dogs do have better vet treatment and some other benefits thanks to mammal bias, they often face similar struggles, and this hierarchy for pets really has cats and dogs on a pedestal lording over everyone else - including rabbits, hamsters, and especially mice and rats, and all other mammal pets as well as pets in other groups.

I hate cat-dog supremacy so much it sends me into a blind rage. Like, there isn't a 24-hr emergency vet for birds within three hours of me. I either have to drive that long or wait till my (hour away!) daytime vet opens up if I have an emergency. Birds can bleed out fast. This is just negligence. And there are so many animals, not only birds, that have been bred for captivity and rely on us. It is irresponsible and cruel that we designate them second-class pet...izens.

oof, you probably didn't expect this long of a ramble, I'll leave it off there.

#cats #dogs #pets #mammal bias #cat/dog supremacy #petblr

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samandcolbyownme · 15 days

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Prompt: someone takes reader to the airport, but only to have their car break down on the way.

Warnings: swearing, angsty? Fluffy, kissing, confessions of love, suggestive language

Enjoy!

══════════════════

The look on Matt’s face when you told the triplets you accepted the job in London, absolutely devistated you.

You knew you needed to go, you also knew that the feelings you once had for him haven’t gone away either.

The decision to break up and stay friends, was mutual, but you both know, that to this day, it was still the worst decision you both ever agreed on.

The days leading up to your flight were heartbreaking as you spent time with your few close friends and of course, the three boys you grew up with.

Each time you left, Matt went to his room before you were out the door. You spent nights out in your car talking to Nick about everything, and he agrees that you should go, it’ll be best for everyone.

One thing Nick said to you one of the nights was as follows, "The Universe sends us exactly what we are ready for at the exact time we need it in our lives.”

It stuck with you since, but you felt like you were overthinking it, at times, like when Matt didn’t go straight to his room the night before you were set to leave.

Or when you got that phone call from your friend saying she couldn’t take you to the airport, family emergency so you let it slide.

You were in a panic. Every one you called was already booked and busy.

Expect one.

You let out a sigh as you tap on Matt’s name, your heart racing as you hear the first ring.

“Hello.”

“Matt?” You ask, not even bothering to hide your nervousness that shakes within your words, “Sorry it’s.. so late..”

“Don’t be. What’s going on?” He asks, voice slightly raspy. It was clear that you had woken him up, “Um, I was just..” you pause before letting out a sigh, “Nevermind. I’m sorry for wa-“

“No.” He raises his voice slightly and sighs, “I-I mean, No. you don’t have to go, y/n. What’s going on? A-Are you in trouble?”

“No I- well. Actually, yeah.. kind of.” You give in, “I need a ride to the airport tomorrow night.”

The line is silent for a few seconds before Matt answers, “It’ll be just me if that’s okay. Chris and nick are going to a party.”

“If you’ll need to pi-“

“Y/n.” Matt cuts you off, his voice lower, almost a whisper, “Please let me do this.”

You close your eyes, taking in a quiet breath, “Okay.”

——

When you opened your front door, Matt was standing there with a, clearly forced, smile, “Hi.”

You press your lips together and give him a small smile as you wheel your two suitcases out of the door. You sling your carry on over your shoulder and by the time you look back, Matt is already walking to the car with your cases.

You were dreading this.

A lot could happen in the hour from your house to the air port.

“Which airport?” He asks as he grabs his phone to pull up the maps. You lick your lips, “Um, it’s LAX.” He nods, tapping his phone before setting it down.

The first twenty minutes of the drive was silent, nothing but the other cars passing and the music playing on the radio filled the tension filled silence.

“So did you just ask me because you didn’t have anyone else?”

His question, the way he asked it, sounded awful of you. You look over at him, “I didn’t want to have to ask you.”

“Why?” He glances over at you and you look away, “I just.. with how you acted when and ever since I told you about London...” You look over at him, he’s looking away, “Matt, the way your face sank..“ you lower your voice, “It broke my heart.”

“Being told you’re losing someone you don’t want to lose and not being able to do anything to stop it is also enough to break someone’s heart.”

You close your eyes, the burn from the tears welling in them cause you to tense up for a second but both of your attention is taken away to the car when it starts to sputter and you both jolt forward.

“What the fuck?” Matt curses as he veers off the road. He puts his four ways on and you look in the mirror and over at him, “What the hell happened?”

He shrugs, turning the car off and trying to start again but the engine just clicks and then it goes silent.

He does look at you, “Are you okay?”

You glance over at him, frowning when you see that he isn’t looking your way, “Yeah. I’m fine. I just-“ you look at the time, “I have to be at my gate in twenty five minutes.”

“Okay, okay.” Matt grabs his phone, “Can you call Nick and tell him that I’ll be late to get them?”

You nod, calling Nick while he figures out the car.

“Miss me already?” Nick asks as he answers. You roll your eyes, laughing slightly, “I mean yeah, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Um okay?”

“Matt’s car broke down, we’re like I don’t know..” you glance over at Matt who has his phone pressed to his ear, “Like twenty ish minutes away.”

“Y/n, your plane takes off in twenty ish minutes.” Nick mocks you, “Is Matt calling someone? I don’t-“

You hear Nick fill chris in and Matt starts speaking, “Yeah, I’m about twenty minutes away from the LAX Airport..” he hums, pulling the phone away from his ear as he tells them what street you’re on.

“Okay. Thank you. Mhm.” He hands up and tosses his phone into the cupholder. You turn your attention back to Nick, “Hold on.”

“They said they can get someone out here to look at it as soon as they can. She said it could be up to an hour.”

All you hear is Nick say, “The universe, babe. It’s on your side.” Then the three beeps.

You pull your phone away from your ear and stare down at your lap.

“What did Nick say?”

Matt’s voice snaps you out of your daze, “Oh, um. They said that.. they’ll find a way home.” You look over at him, “Do you.. I don’t know.. ever have moments, where you’re like.. wow the universe actually loves me?”

You look over at him, laughing anxiously. Matt gives you a confused look, “What are you saying?”

You turn towards him, glancing back at your bags in the back seat, “I’m saying.. maybe Nick was right.”

“About?” He raises his brows and you look back up at him, “A few nights ago, Nick told me something.” You laugh slightly, “He said something about how the universe will send us what we are ready for right when we need it most and-“

Matt leans over, cutting your words short with his lips on yours. His hands slide to your cheeks, holding your face gently as he deepens the kiss before pulling his lips away from yours, “You’re right where you’re meant to be.”

You give him a slight nod as your hand comes up to lay on his, eyes looking between his and his lips, “With you.”

He smirks, a smile forming as he grips your chin, “With me.”

══════════════════

I hope you liked this, let me know what you thought! As always, I love you! 🖤 thank you for reading!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #snippet #snippets #Matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #cute matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo one shot #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #Chris sturniolo #sturniolo one shots #the sturniolos

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lunajay33 · 13 days

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Not the Only One Part.2

•🌪️🍂🪵🏹•

Summary: Reader comes from an abusive family and is insecure about it showing up everywhere with bruises, but one night she comes across Daryl who is more like you than you know

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Content Warning: Abusive parents

Part.1

•Masterlist•

I woke up feeling sore all over, rolling over in the bed I notice Daryl still fast asleep, I try to get up slowly……quietly but as I sit up he groans groggily opening his eyes

“Where ya goin?” His voice still raspy with sleep

“Just gonna get more pain meds, I’m really sore, sorry I woke you”

“Ain’t gotta be sorry, bout time I get up anyways” he got out of bed and grabbed some more aspirin and a bottle of water that was on his dresser

“Thanks, I should probably head home now, don’t wanna over stay my welcome” I laugh pathetically

“Yer staying, like I said last night ya ain’t going back there, ya need a break, hell we both do” he said sitting down next to me on the bed

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Come on I’ll show ya” he took my hand and led me out of the house to the woods that were behind his house surrounding the lake

“Is this your way of telling me you’re going to kill me” I joke with him as he drags me through trees and bushes

“Ya caught me” he smiles as he looks back at me

We stopped at a clearing that over looked the lake with the morning sun shining down on the water, we both sat down just watching the serene moment, I gently laid my head on his shoulder eventually feeling him lay his against my head, in the span of a day he’s been there for me more than anyone ever has in my life, that feeling last night when he consoled me and made me feel like I wasn’t a burden or like all this isn’t my fault and he understood, it made my heart flutter and I want more of that, I want more moments like this with Daryl

“How is it we basically grew up a few houses apart when we could have helped each other this whole time”

“Don’t know sunshine, but ya ain’t alone now” he said as he picked at his fingers nervously

“I don’t wanna go back there, I can’t do it anymore and I don’t want you to hurt anymore either” he was silent for some time

“What do ya wanna do then?” My heart was beating fast with thrill but mixed with anxiety

“What if we just ran away, my aunt lives on a farm like an hour away and she lives alone, she always said she’s lonely and she has a lot of space, what if we just go there, start over together”

“I don’t know, ain’t we gonna be a lot to take in?”

“She calls all the time telling me to move with her, I always said no because well dad would go crazy but I need to go, and you’re so sweet she’d love to have you around, I can call and ask” he seemed to think it over before he nodded

We went back to his house and I dialed my aunts number waiting a few rings before she answered

“Hello?”

“Aunt Carrie it’s me y/n”

“Oh sweetie I didn’t recognize the number”

“Yeah I’m calling from a friends house ummmm I need to ask you something” I asked feeling my voice quiver, Daryl holding my hand in encouragement

“I’ve never told you because I was scared of what might happen but dads been hitting me, he has for a long time and this time was really bad, I can’t live her anymore and I have know where else to go, I know it’s a lot to ask but could me and my friend come live with you, we need to get out of here”

“Oh love you should have come to me sooner, you and your friend are welcome to come live here for as long as you’d like, I love you sweetheart”

“Love you too” we both hung up and I turned to Daryl smiling

“She said yes, we can live there for as long as we want” he pulled me into a hug mindful of my back

“Thank ya, ya can go pack and meet me back here and we can take my truck and go” with that we went our ways, I entered the house and no one was home, I took a suitcase and packed as much as I could as I was leaving the house I saw Daryl throwing some things in the box of his truck, I wheeled over and he helped load my stuff up

“Are ya sure bout this?” He asked brushing my hair back

“I want this Daryl, let’s go before someone comes home” we got in his truck and the engined roared as we pulled out, driving past the house that only brought awful memories, driving past the sign telling us we were now leaving town seemed to lift this weight off my chest and it seemed to have the same effect of Daryl

Throughout the hour drive Daryl played his music and we just enjoyed the comfort of knowing we got out, when we got to a dirt road I gave him directions, pulling up to the farm it was as beautiful as I remembered, huge green fields with roaming horses, a little pen for lambs and sheep that were hopping around, and there in the middle of all the land stood a big older house that just brought everything together, Daryl pulled up the drive way and parked, shutting off the truck

“Didn’t know it would be all this, thought it’d be somethin small, don’t know if I deserve this” my heart hurt at how he saw his worth, I thought he deserves all this and more

“Daryl this is our home now and what we’ve been through we deserve some peace, now come on let’s go inside”

It’s been a month since we moved to the farm and it’s been the most peace I’ve had in years, Daryl and I were sitting out in the field watching the sun set, listening to the frogs crook

“Are you happy here Daryl?”

“Ya know I am, best thing anyone could’ve given me”

“Do you think maybe we could be more than friends eventually” I asked extremely nervous that this might push him away

He looked down at me his face hard to read making matters worse

“Thought we already were” my eyes widen and my heart skips a beat, did I miss a something?

“What really? And when did this happen without me knowing?” I tease

“That night ya came to my room, had that nightmare and needed me, I knew then that ya were the one, thought ya felt the same” he said squeezing my hand

“So we’re dating, thee Daryl Dixon is my boyfriend” I laugh leaning my head back to his shoulder

“I’m all yers sunshine”

This was only a short sweet series I hope you all liked it🩶

Taglist: @l0kilaufeys0n7 @stoner420things69 @pinchofthetwd @thestonedwriter @daryldixmedown @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @superbowlisgay @daryls-wife @pinkratts @daryl-dixons-left-hand @mrrumplebottom @twistedprincess-92 @addi1978 @wongcena @darylspersonalwhore @starrqi @heidiland05 @livlaughlove03

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up-in-flames-writing · 21 days

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I feel like we never talk about how hard it is to be a trans immigrant. We never talk about how escaping from a country that persecutes you does not free you from suffering & bigotry.

I may not be able to attend my own graduation ceremony. I worked so hard these past three years to achieve something, to be the first person in my immediate family to finish uni, get a degree, & then be able to actually do something with it, to pick my own life course & not stray from it. I reinvented myself during these last three years so much, from the shy, dysphoric kid with no friends to a man who maybe isn't doing the best in life, but who has a hope for the future. I worked hard to present myself in the best way I could, & yet I won't be able to see the fruits of my labours.

And, sure, the reason is real silly. I can't legally change my name, so the name on the degree will be my dead one, & the Vice Chancellor will read out the corpse of my old self in front of all my teachers & peers, everyone who knew me as Booker, & Booker alone. And they will expect to see a young lady in a dress climb the stage, only to be met with a boy who isn't quite a man yet, who is still forced to live under a girl's name.

And why? Why! Because I am an immigrant who feared for my young life when Brexit was happening, who has been teased & bullied for being an ESL student, who never quite belonged. Because I am an immigrant transman who could be imprisoned in my country of birth for the crime of wanting to reinvent myself, who has to walk on eggshells around the man who reared me because he grew up Polish & catholic & who knows how he would react if I told him I was his grandson & not his granddaughter. I am an immigrant who has to hide behind their parents because who knows how my extended family will react to me, who is still not allowed to tell his cousin, his little sister whom he adores, his real name despite the fact I was her age when I started questioning my own gender & I somehow wasn't too young to be in pain!

I am an immigrant who cannot safely return home, but the country that took me in isn't quite the safe haven either. Because I need a passport to prove that my name has changed, but a passport cannot be issued to me under a name my birth country does not approve of. Because to change myself fully, I need to become a citizen to a country that abandoned my homeland after the war & looked away when it was being subjugated during it. Because I need to know how many of the swans in London belong to the Crown for the state to consider me a citizen of this dying empire, despite the fact I've lived here for so long, I can't remember what my childhood home back in Poland even looked like! I cannot truly remember what my room in that flat in a small, backwater Polish town looked like anymore, except for the bed that we now have in our guest bedroom, & the bookshelf that cradles all of my books on transness & queerness & feminism.

Because I am an immigrant from a country who hates me, I am forced to live in a country that hardly tolerates me, & to live as my true self I have to subjugate myself for the sake of an old empire that lost its touch. I have to submit myself to a personal sort of colonisation, to be able to walk onto that stage at graduation with my real name on the degree. But I can't do that, because I don't have the money, because I spent the last three years breaking my back proving to people that the little girl with behavioural problems who was always bullied, was able to become something greater than the sum of her parts. Because I now don't have the time or the patience to tell you exactly when the Union Jack was created, or at what hour of the day is tea time, & I don't have the time to wait for a passport to be sent to me, only for me to return it to sender with a plea of changing my name upon it.

Because my transmacs friends in college had their names changed at sixteen, while I'm already done with my undergrad & still have to contend with the question of what citizenship I would rather have. Because I will sooner be on hormones & growing a beard than I will be able to change my name.

And in all this I find it so ironic that I was named after an angel, & like everything else in my life, I reject the goodness & the easy way out, I reject the things that once made me, me, to become my own god & rebuild myself out of the scraps left behind by a life of turmoil.

And still I am just some immigrant bitch stealing jobs from good, hardworking Britons, & I'm still just a transsexual fag taking women's rights away, & I'm still just some freak of nature manipulating the kids into sin & immorality. And no matter where I go, where I turn to, I don't feel all that angelic at all.

#booker speaks #booker writes #transgender #transmasc #transandrophobia #transphobia #immigrants #xenophobia

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britcision · 3 months

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AND HERE WE ARE! Totally getting this out in February well done team! And this is gonna be our last chapter before a wee teeny tiny time skip and Jason’s finished core! What a beautiful day 🥰

We’re getting another two-parter too, because Danny and Jason refused to let me get to the end of this lil introductory arc without at least one more pile of abject fluff! But finally, we’re ready to begin the plot!

Once again, the link to the AO3 version is in the first chapter and the 15th chapter; you can see it in the text for the link if you wanna subscribe to be told when it updates 😁

First Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

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So That Just Happened part 1

Back in her own room on the other side of the country from Gotham, Sam Manson reclined back into giant, coffin shaped body pillow her beloved girlfriend had given her when they moved and contemplated her phone.

The brand new Wayne-chat was blowing up satisfactorily, although apparently Tim was a massive stalker too. That was probably a good thing; it meant she hadn’t actually nuked Tuck’s chances with his nerd-crush. Now they could bond over their mutual stalker tendencies.

But, did that make her revenge less effective?

It wasn’t like she was actually out to ruin his life, but she’d kinda like to leave a mark. Something that would make him think twice about letting her think he and Danny had fucking died in Gotham in her absence.

Or. Well. Gone radio silent in Gotham, which was probably actually worse because if they were dead she’d know exactly where they were.

The Wayne chat were all pretty sure Tim and Tucker were together too, and Sam’s new best friend Babs had even pulled up the feed from their living room tv somehow. Sam wasn’t exactly the tech wizard Tucker was, but… after seeing that, she disconnected her and Val’s TV from the wifi.

And settled in to remote watch Tuck get his ass kicked at Spiderheck, apparently. At least for a little while; until something else on her phone caught her attention.

It was… almost funny. While she knew she was a whole three timezones away, she’d never really felt left out before. Like maybe she should have stayed on the east coast…

Not that she regretted it, of course. She had a good job, a good school, a wonderful girlfriend who’d been so excited to get into a good school and really go to town on the business department.

(Apparently there were posters of Val’s face in the ethics classrooms. Sam refused to ask if they were golden example or dire warning.)

She was just… a long way away. Even a long portal away, and… being back with the guys, even in Gotham, made the quiet of their comfy little apartment seem lonely.

Huffing, she turned and traced her fingers through the leaves of her mimosa plant on the windowsill beside the bed. They curled gently shut at her touch, and made her smile. Just like always.

She was happy to be home. She wasn’t technically liminal enough yet that it was her haunt, but… well, for all the jokes Val made, Sam had to admit she’d put down roots. She loved her job at the greenhouses, and her internship at the botanical gardens.

She loved scaring the hell out of the dudebros in Val’s business classes who thought ethics were a waste of time. She loved sharing messages with Jazz about the boys, laughing that even three hours ahead, Tuck and Danny still couldn’t get up before them.

She was kinda considering texting Harley about Timblr too. Not like, for any particular reason; if Tim’s family weren’t gonna embarrass Tucker enough, Harley probably wouldn’t either. She’d probably think it was adorable.

Or, y’know, worrying evidence of obsession. Psych types worried about stuff like that, usually.

Sam was kinda also considering sending Harley Jazz’s number. Jazz might still be skating just on the neurosurgery side of the line, but she’d always been big into psychology. Big enough to try and triple major, and only drop to major-major-minor after the third pre-exam meltdown.

And she could use having someone else do the shrink bit on her a little more often. Although really, for that Sam should make her a professional appointment; friends didn’t ask friends to psychoanalyze their overprotective pseudo-sisters. And Jazz could use more friends.

Jazz could use a transfer to a specialty that would let her sleep once in a while, a more stable supply of fresh ecto, and about six weeks in a meditation retreat to get the accidental telepathy under control, but more friends would be good too. And less stubborn insistence on her second try for double majors.

Maybe the switch to psychiatry full time would be good for her? Or psychology. Sam was a little fuzzy on the difference, which one Jazz was currently still minoring in, and which one Harley did.

(Jazz’s current second major was neurosurgery, which Jazz insisted was totally less taxing alongside a neurology major because it was the same body part. She was the only person in her class attempting the double major though, so.)

Humming tunelessly to herself, Sam flicked back into the group chat. Babs was still sharing the feed… brows drawing in, Sam frowned at the little spider figures still fighting to the death. Now, she wasn’t as big of a gamer as she used to be, but she was pretty sure Spiderheck didn’t actually offer red berets.

Snorting a laugh, she flicked back out of the chat and opened a new one, adding both Jazz and Harley. All it needed was the perfect name… something that would grab both of their attention.

Obvious. Child’s play.

Snuggling back into her coffin pillow, Sam grinned down at her phone screen.

Danny Has A Boyfriend chat was live.

Having eight legs wasn’t exactly the same as suddenly having four new ones, or two new legs and two new arms. While the first two were definitely functioning as “hands”, being the ones to pick up and use all of the weapons, Tim had quickly learned that he could grip with any of the eight “feet” that were available.

Yeah, spinning a laser staff all the way down one side of his body and up the other was fucking cool.

He’d adjusted pretty quickly during their “practice” round, while they all got used to the web slinging and worked out how to open the boxes and use the weapons.

(Tucker had swung himself into the lava by accident, so they’d started a second round.)

Tim felt pretty much ready to go, although if he was honest with himself… his only actual complaint was that he didn’t have a camera.

Conner had asked Tuck at the start of their second round if his powers had been nerfed to make it “fair”. Tucker, sweet innocent Tucker, had managed to convey a sidelong look even looking at even without a face on their little blob bodies and said he didn’t think Conner needed a nerf.

He just needed to understand how the powers worked, and they could be incorporated into the system. Which, well, was like catnip for Conner.

At least Tucker seemed a lot less flustered about talking to him while they were both spiders, because Conner had started talking his ear off about TTK and hadn’t stopped since.

Tim was kinda considering swinging over and taking them both out, just to get the game moving. But Conner was cute when he got really into something, and being a headless little spider body did not seem to have changed that.

He spent the time practicing with the webs instead, spinning and tossing himself around the map. It was pretty similar to using a grapple, although he wasn’t exactly sure whether or not the web was coming from his own body.

If it was, it was coming from inside a foot, which wasn’t how actual spiders worked… but Tim was pretty sure that was on Spiderheck, not Tucker.

Being able to run around upside down was the biggest change for him, and pretty cool. Tim scuttled around under a couple of the higher platforms for a while, planning his strategy.

Honestly, he was pretty sure TTK was going to wind up fucking Conner over rather than making anything easier for him. You’d think that flying would be an advantage in Spiderheck, at least as far as avoiding lava or an out of bounds, but Tim knew pretty explicitly how far it took Conner to stop.

It wasn’t exactly on a dime, and in this game? The pace didn’t exactly allow for imprecision.

And they were wasting time talking about it rather than getting used to having an extra six hand-feet.

Still upside down, Tim twisted until he could see the other two spiders. Which was when he learned that… they did kinda have their faces on them. Just, instead of being in a face position, on the front of his body that he was seeing out of, it was just sorta… plastered across the body.

Like a photo skin mapped onto a flat blob.

He considered letting the other two know; if anyone walked into the room, they’d probably be able to see their little faces on the screen. If they were just standing around talking.

Also, the pictures’ mouths weren’t moving, which hadn’t been weird when Tim was listening to them talk and didn’t think they had mouths. Kinda was to look down on Conner’s smiling face and hear his voice at a mile a minute.

Tucker probably already knew, and might have done the faces on purpose? And if he hadn’t, it was gonna be pretty funny to see what happened when he noticed.

He’d gotten progressively better at actually talking to Conner the longer he wasn’t actually looking at him, and the focus being on the game had helped too. Face in the game? Probably gonna throw him again.

And it was probably time to get things actually moving, so he could enjoy that.

Humming softly to himself, Tim scuttled across to the loot crates, found himself a double ended lightsabre, and dropped down on Tucker and Conner’s heads.

“Sooooooo…” Danny clapped his hands, doing his best to make his broad grin at least look a little innocent as he floated sideways into Jason’s field of view, “not that that wasn’t adorable and dramatic and everything, super touching, buuuut…?”

He almost laughed as Jason jumped, having apparently forgotten Danny was there for a hot second, then pulled his hand back from Lady Gotham’s to glare at him. The Lady herself didn’t bother hiding her chuckle, settling back to recline once more on a cloud of smog.

“Was there something you needed, Phantom?” She asked with a dry amusement.

Danny shrugged innocently, sticking his hands in his spectral pockets. Much more dangerous than regular pockets, but he’d not been doing more than blob wrangling lately.

“Not so much what I need, just, y’know, trying to keep things on track. I dunno if you’ve got other plans for the night Jay, but we were with Frostbite for a while and if you did…” he trailed off, and Jason grimaced.

“Not what you’d call set plans, but…” Jason trailed off as well, and Danny could feel the guilt even before it tried creeping in.

Nope, not having that. He’d almost talked himself into that bullshit already tonight, none for Jason. He nodded airily, floating up to drape an arm over the larger man’s shoulder.

“All I’ve gotta do is get to bed before midnight, so I’m not rushing now that Tucker’s found himself a new ride.” Waggled eyebrows punctuated that comment with enough emphasis that Jason snickered, darker feelings pushed aside without finding purchase.

“What, you don’t wanna go watch that train wreck in person?” Jason teased with a lopsided half smile.

Danny pulled a face, both at the thought of Tucker’s goddamn disastrous attempts at flirting and… well, the possibility of running into Bruce again. Maybe Constantine.

Danny was maaaaaybe kinda avoiding the wizard since he’d started collecting the other contracts on his soul; it wasn’t like he wanted them for nefarious purposes, it was just fucking weird. He didn’t like owning people. Not even overgrown Sour Patch Kids in trench coats.

(At least Constantine was still alive though. Those unlucky souls who died still bound to Pariah damn near went through a full reboot. No memories, no personality, none of what Danny would have thought of as like, the core components of a soul.

So far nothing anyone had done had been able to help them, and Danny had a nasty feeling the final answer would be Ending them. The Observants didn’t want to, they were perfectly happy with a thrall army so long as they controlled it, but Danny was firm.

No slaves, no thralls. If the only way he could free them was through a final and permanent death… he would.

But Clockwork was still looking, and so long as the ancient of time thought there might be a way… Danny held out hope too.)

For now, he shook his head quickly, holding up both hands.

“No way man. Bruce already hates my guts, I’m gonna keep a healthy distance.”

For both their sakes, really. Jason’s mood every time Bruce had spoken to him today kinda proved he hadn’t listened to Danny’s advice and stepped up. Not that Danny had exactly expected him to; again, hated his guts.

Jason pulled a face but didn’t bother to argue; he’d probably rather not actually deal with the old man for a third time either. Instead he just shrugged, turning his attention back to Lady Gotham.

“Do you know what time it is in Gotham now, my lady?” He asked, and the really weird thing was that it didn’t actually sound weird.

Danny always felt awkward and formal whenever he tried to address a ghost by their title, and Lady Gotham was the very worst because she never bothered to hide when she was laughing at him. Which was, y’know, every time he said it.

(He wasn’t gonna just call her “Gotham” though. That would be worse, so he just sucked it up.)

On Jason’s lips, words like “my lady” just sounded right. Danny flashed back for a moment to snow in a graveyard, and Jason knelt before him quoting Shakespeare. There was something in Jason that was just made for flowery language and dramatic proclamations.

Lady Gotham clearly agreed, bestowing a fond smile upon Jason before inclining her head back for a moment, those red on black eyes glowing suddenly brighter. Looking into the living world, or right up Clockwork’s ass?

“It’s coming to ten o’clock,” she said softly, something almost like regret in her tone. The smile that she turned back to them was softer, sadder.

Danny’d feel bad about being the one to point it out, except, yeah. He’d had to. Ghosts in general didn’t exactly think about time. It was a problem for the living, so - him. And Jason.

Who didn’t seem nearly so sorry with the answer. He nodded, fingers beginning to drum against his thigh.

“Time for a few more questions, then.” That wasn’t a question, and if Danny was completely insensate or possibly locked in a sensory deprivation tank he might have warned Jason about talking to a powerful spirit like that.

It’d need to be a damn good tank for him to miss all the signs though; Jason was so in the good books. Lady Gotham just smiled and nodded, gesturing once more with her traffic cone.

“Of course. And, of course, we will have plenty of other opportunities to speak. I may spend much of my time here, but now that we have been introduced… I can also speak to you there, if you would like?”

It was a delicate question, and Danny hesitated, suddenly wondering if he should… well, elaborate again.

“Uh… yeah, sure? I’d like that?” Jason asked, clearly confused by the reticence, and that made up Danny’s mind.

“She’s not going to sound the same,” he explained quickly, giving Lady Gotham a quick smile. She smiled back, gesturing for him to continue, because none of the damn older ghosts explained shit for themselves.

Danny totally didn’t roll his eyes.

“Like, the way we talk to her in the Infinite Realms is kinda the abstract? She looks kinda human,” he added, gesturing vaguely at the Lady.

Jason’s brows furrowed for a moment, but he felt more curious than concerned.

“So… she’s an anthropomorphic personification, but not in the living world?” He asked, and Danny’s eyes nearly crossed.

He turned to Lady Gotham, hoping that this might be some weird city slang, and she laughed at him. Again.

“Yes,” she agreed with Jason instead, which absolutely did not help. “It’s easier for me to speak with you here, using eyes and ears like your own. But building and maintaining this shape in the living world is… complicated.”

“Because her real body there is the city,” Danny added, privately resolving to ask Sam what the fuck Jason was talking about later.

Honestly, Jason would probably get along real good with Mr Lancer. They both liked weird words.

At least he actually looked a little confused too now; Danny had freaked the first time Lady Gotham talked to him out in the city itself. He gave Jason a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“You’ve gotta see it to believe it, man. Just… it’s gonna be weird.” Not the most helpful, sure, but Danny was doing his best!

Jason nodded slowly, willing to table it for now, and refocused on Lady Gotham, something darker now welling in the purpose building inside him.

“So you said the Joker wasn’t from the Curse,” he said bluntly. Danny flinched, more from the lack of any aura inflection than the remnants he could feel.

Yeah, a lotta Gothamites hated the Joker specifically, but if Danny had even the faintest doubt of who’d killed Jason… the black, leaden lump of Death in Jason’s aura wiped it out.

Lady Gotham stilled too, her own smile fading as she regarded Jason. Those red and black eyes were suddenly so much older, so much sadder.

“Yes,” she agreed softly, lowering her traffic cone to rest at her hip. “Are you sure?”

‘Are you sure you want to know?’

Or ‘Are you sure you want to know now?’

Danny wouldn’t put money on which she’d intended, but it didn’t take a genius to know the answer to both. Stubborn, emotionally repressed, and self destructive as hell, bat-training only left one answer.

Jason nodded firmly now, his jaw clenching.

“Yes.”

Lady Gotham studied him for a moment longer but didn’t argue, inclining her head gently.

“Then I will be brief. While the Curse has always been part of the city, feeding on fear and despair, in recent years we have both felt… something else. I told you of the malevolence on the land?” She asked, and Jason made a soft, impatient noise.

“And that it’s where the Curse comes from, yeah. And that the Joker is different,” he prodded.

Danny made a face. He was usually very much on the side of blunt answers, and knew full well that the Lady wouldn’t actually like, break Jason for being mouthy. He was very, very used to seeing favouritism from the outside, and Jason was clearly a firm favourite.

Maybe because he was currently Gotham’s only actual part ghost child? (To be fair, Danny didn’t think that’d change much in the fullness of time; Jason was his favourite of all the bats alive or dead.)

Whatever it was, his interruption only brought a flicker of a smile to the Lady’s lips, which vanished just as quickly.

“Yes. The Curse is indeed the original manifestation of that malevolence, given form and now, purpose. But even that malevolence came from somewhere; Gotham lies on a crack between worlds, older than time. Every world in the multiverse exist along certain markers; certain weak spots. Gotham is one of them.”

“Of course it is,” Jason grumbled beside him and Danny shifted closer, brushing their shoulders together.

Personally, he figured that if Gotham was a weak point in the universe and all the bad shit just leaked through, they were probably doing pretty well for themselves. Then, he’d seen the depths of the Ghost Zone; he knew what else could be trying to leak through.

Which, obviously, meant the good luck had to end.

“When the Joker died,” Lady Gotham continued, only to be cut off by a startled “What?!” from Jason and a totally-super-dignified squawk from Danny.

“You are not gonna tell me that asshole’s a ghost!” Danny moaned, dragging his hands down his face. Honestly, if he’d missed a whole actual ghost in the city for an entire year too, he was never going to live it down.

Like any of the other ghosts had any fucking clue what it was like being half alive… or living fully inside a city spirit’s haunt. Let them visit Lady Gotham’s and see what they sensed.

“Who the hell killed the Joker?!” Jason demanded, something weirdly like panic spiking through anger. “It wasn’t fucking Bruce-”

Lady Gotham silenced them both with a pointed look, shadows growing suddenly long and dark under her stare. Then she returned her gaze to Jason, her expression sombre.

“The Joker is not a ghost, nor a halfa. Bruce Wayne resuscitated him, which may be all that kept him from becoming a manifestation himself; he was killed not only in Gotham, but by a nexus point, in rage and revenge and hatred.”

There was something dark in Lady Gotham’s eyes now, something black and burning and for half a second Danny could swear he felt that rage himself, deep in his chest.

“Something else leaked through in the short time that he was dead,” she went on, her gaze firmly locked on Jason’s and Danny couldn’t imagine just how much the older-younger halfa was feeling under its full force. “Something small, and hungry, and craving death because it was denied his - the death I believe would give it shape.”

It wasn’t enough for Jason, that much was obvious; bitterness-frustration-grief hung in the air in a cloud almost thicker than the Lady’s smogs, and this time Danny gave in to temptation.

Let his own soothing-sorrow-loss twine through, even if he didn’t exactly understand the cause of the feeling. Jason startled a little, knocked from grumbling something that hadn’t been for anyone but him, but his hand reached back for Danny’s. Squeezed tight, even as the bitterness deepened.

His eyes narrowed, he remained focused on Lady Gotham though.

“Of course. Of course he fucking brought the clown back, even after someone did the world a fucking favour,” he hissed through his teeth, then raised his voice more clearly. “So, what? No one can ever kill the Joker, or Gotham gets another curse? Who’d fucking notice at this point?”

A genuine sorrow and pain passed across Lady Gotham’s face but she schooled it, kept her own aura calm and composed… or at least in closer than they could feel. There was probably a reason she’d put space between them again.

“Not quite, but close,” she agreed softly, those red bat eyes somehow more gentle even against the black pupil. “This other entity is already here, growing each day. Every violent death in Gotham is being consumed by it, which I will admit has strengthened the truce between the Curse and myself. Neither of us wish to feed it any more than necessary.”

Danny’s brows furrowed at that and he tried to think back to everything that Frostbite had ever told him about spirits. Not the dead-people kind, but the Neverborn; entities, concepts, ideas given form. Like time, and cities.

“So… when did the Joker die?” He asked cautiously, and felt surprise jolt through Jason. Lady Gotham gave him a quick glance, and cocked her head at Jason himself.

“Not so long after Jason did. A matter of months, less than a year, though he was dead less than a few minutes.” There was something in her tone, a weight on the words that made Danny think he was on the right track… but that she didn’t want to say it.

Which. Well. That was all kinds of bad fucking news if an entity as old as Lady Gotham was wary of speaking it into being. Luckily, Danny was just a fucked up little half ghost who had absolutely no supernatural tie ins to things like belief.

And he believed in just laying all the cards on the table before he decided if he had to flip it.

“That’s really young for any kind of belief spirit,” he said bluntly, watching Lady Gotham’s eyes. Saw… just a hint of something, creasing the corners, and seriously considered reaching his aura to hers for the first time today.

It’d save so much time to just get the message through feeling, but… if she preferred words, the words had to be important, and Jason probably needed words.

Fuck, they’d all need words, because this was going to be a goddamn bat-briefing if Lady Gotham was filling them in, and Mr Emotional Repression Is My Soulmate was not going to be up to aura reads.

Chewing his lower lip, he thought through the next stage a couple times before speaking slowly, watching for any hint he was still on the right path.

“If… it’s grown fast enough that you both noticed… it’s not new?” He tried, wondering briefly if he’d retroactively doomed them all by thinking about “what else could break through” from the depths of the Zone.

Lady Gotham shook her head though, gesturing impatiently through her smoke to clear it… maybe the first sign he’d ever seen that she didn’t control it entirely.

“No. That much, we are both certain of. This entity… it is new and unformed, with no Name of its own. At the moment, all of the fear it wreaks is only feeding belief in the Curse, which is why it only has death. But there is already a will there, long before it should even have awareness. And it wants to grow.”

“Oh great, so Joker’s got a Pitty 2.0 but his is on the outside,” Jason quipped, irritation sparking through him… and Danny was kinda glad to see it, honestly. Just a little flash of the guy he’d been getting to know in all the dark.

Even Lady Gotham managed a brief smile, and didn’t actually bother refuting it; closing her eyes for a moment, she waved her hand and the clouds of smog between them solidified briefly into a model of the city. Buildings only, but with horribly empty shadows between them.

“The Joker’s death gave it an entrance, and his revival denied it his shape, his Name, and the fear he commands. But it is no longer fixated on killing the Joker - and it was, for several years. It pushed him before it had the power for anything else, driving him further, feeding poison to those around him, trying to have him killed so that it could become The Joker, the pure essence of every bloody mark the clown left on Gotham. And it very nearly succeeded,” she added softly, her gaze turning back to Jason with an almost tangible sorrow.

Something in Danny’s gut iced over, and suddenly he was really, really glad he didn’t know what she was thinking.

Bruce looked better as he rose from the table, Diana decided, watching her old friend closely. For all that he’d come with an actual reason for his doom and gloom (for a change), his attitude during the briefing was positively relaxed compared to their own discussion that followed.

He would still be worrying and fretting, she knew him too well to believe anything else, and… she knew why. While Diana had no children of her own (though she had met and heard of other versions of herself who had), she did dearly love her own proteges, and those of her friends.

She remembered Jason as the young, sweet boy who’d stumbled over every word he said to her and stared at her like she’d hung the stars. She remembered Bruce’s grief, Batman’s rage, and the shadow that hung over the Dark Knight with every step until Tim Drake took him to heel.

She knew that there was too much there, the guilt and pain and loss and grief for Bruce to see Jason objectively, and she didn’t begrudge him that. Nor did she condone it.

It only hurt both men, and while she would not give her opinion when it wasn’t wanted… well, she was aware Bruce spoke to Clark of his worries around Jason much more often than he would to her. This time though, she’d had no choice.

She knew the man well enough to know what was truly scaring him in this situation; that Jason would be taken from him again. He was at least as upset by this “Danny” boy as the thought of war with an entire realm.

It would have been cute, if he wasn’t a grown adult man who prided himself on critical thinking. Or actively forcing his son away with his own actions at every turn.

Still, there was one piece of counsel she could give. The thing he hated the most of all was a mystery. And while she also didn’t usually condone his stalking-as-a-sign-of-affection…

“Batman.”

He stopped in the doorway but didn’t look back, still as a statue. At least he was listening.

A fond smile pulling across her lips, Diana shook her head. Let the formal tones of Wonder Woman return to the voice of a friend.

“You see many dangers in the unknown. Perhaps you might reassure yourself by getting to know young Danny Fenton as a person, rather than a potential threat.”

He stayed frozen in the doorway for a moment longer, then nodded his head sharply and swept away.

Diana stifled a chuckle. Honestly, for all Constantine had come to her as if the world were about to end… all of their problems with this Infinite Realm were perfectly clear to her.

The American government had overstepped drastically with their Anti Ecto Acts and would be brought to heel.

The new ruler of the Infinite Realms had turned their head in this direction, and guided them to what must be fixed.

And young Jason Todd, while far from the only hero who had died and returned, had been chosen by this ruler to be favoured with protection, in exchange for service.

Of course, it may all blow out of control and become as dire as her dear friend already seemed to believe it was, but for all Bruce was constantly creating contingencies and backup plans, he very rarely had to use most of them.

She turned her attention to John Constantine instead, the magician seeming much less inclined to make himself scarce than usual. At least he had also calmed considerably, and was even smiling in his own crooked fashion after Bruce.

“You know he’s gonna go stalk that poor kid even more now?” He asked sardonically, pulling another cigarette from his pack but not reaching for the lighter.

Diana hesitated for a moment.

She’d meant for Bruce to talk to Danny, preferably directly. But Bruce did not like talking to new people; not without thorough research and a chance to prepare.

Then she shrugged.

“If it will keep him from disrupting our already tense situation with the Infinite Realms, better that he distract himself with more fatherly concerns,” she said simply.

Constantine snickered again, then frowned.

“Wait, fatherly concerns? For some kid his boy’s known like, a week?”

This time, Diana didn’t bother to restrain her smile, glancing down at the phone in her pocket.

“Merely a week, perhaps, but according to Wonder Girl they have already been caught at least once without their trousers.”

Which hadn’t been part of the official presentation, of course. Nor apparently whatever Bruce had already shared with Constantine, as the mage promptly nearly swallowed his unlit cigarette and began choking.

Diana gave him a carefully gauged slap to the back, sending the now soaked and crumpled smoke across the meeting table, but politely did not laugh.

Jason was pretty sure he was going to puke. Or scream. Maybe both.

It wasn’t bad enough that Bruce had refused to kill the Joker, to stop him from killing anyone else, no, he’d fucking brought him back to life. Given the fucking Joker the chance that none of his victims ever got.

None of them except Jason.

And now apparently even wanting the bastard dead was all part of some master fucking plan to make the fucking asshole even worse.

He’d wanted Bruce to be the one to avenge him from the second Tallia pulled him out of the Lazarus Pit, but when he’d come to Gotham… when his plans to carve out his turf, provoke the Joker with an old alias, set the trap had suddenly become stuffing heads in a bag…

He’d thought about it. A lot. About just hunting the fucker down, putting a bullet between his eyes, and leaving him in the Batcave deader than dead.

Had nearly done it, but no. He’d wanted… he’d wanted Bruce to choose him. To put him first, to say he loved Jason more than some moral stance, to value Tim’s life more, and Steph, and Cass, over the fucking scum who would have happily killed every last one of them with a smile on his face just to see if Bruce finally broke.

And Bruce hadn’t.

Bruce had nearly killed him.

And in and around that whole mess, he’d never gotten around to actually thinking about how his fucking daddy issues had saved the Joker’s life for… years, by now.

Jason wasn’t killing anymore. Not like, actively. Intentionally. Not because he thought Bruce was right; something, someone, had to be willing to stand up for the people of Gotham and actually stop fuckers like the Joker from killing them.

But… well, Crime Alley was his territory, and a scared enemy, a cowed enemy who’d seen their life in Jason’s hands and knew just how easily he could end it was more useful than dealing with the power vacuum, or the next million upstarts who’d think they knew better, would be better, and could take on the Red Hood themselves.

Ironically, keeping fuckers like Black Mask and Great White Shark alive and in power (at severely reduced scale) saved him time. Kept him from dealing with all those upstarts himself.

That was how Waylon had put it, back when Jason was considering adding to his bag of heads. It was… like farming. Keep them low, but keep them stable. Break anything new they went for, or anything that got on his turf.

Let them harvest some of the power hungry fucks who thought they could take a piece of the Alley.

And then Dick had noticed. And reached out. And didn’t stop until Jason gave in and reached back.

When Danny came to Gotham. Somehow, it all swung back around to Danny.

And the fact that if he actually believed what he told Bruce, he could have gone to kill the clown himself at any time since returning to the city.

And he never had. The time wasn’t right. Something came up. Something went wrong, or broke, or distracted him before he thought too hard about it.

Killing the Joker hadn’t even been in his original plans for his triumphant return. He’d just wanted to take back the Alley, prove his point to Bruce. Keep his home safe.

When had killing the Joker become such a big part of the plan? Who the fuck had gotten into his fucking head, redefined him as the last moment of his fucking life, demanded his new life be all about how the last one ended?

Eyes narrowing, he looked searchingly into Lady Gotham’s face just in time to catch her slow nod, like she’d heard every thought. Like he’d been speaking aloud.

“I could not stop it from reaching to you,” she said softly, her voice heavy with sadness, “but I could… distract. Get in the way, make its path harder. That you did not give in…”

Something soft, something proud flickered in her eyes again, and it made him want to squirm.

“You may not have consciously known that you fought yet another enemy, yet you triumphed regardless. My dear Jason…” she sighed, heavy with sorrow, and reached out a hand again as though to cup his face.

Jason found himself moving to meet her before he even thought about it. Stopped himself just before it actually got him anywhere.

He wasn’t done being angry yet. He wasn’t even sure he’d actually started. If he could ever, would ever, be angry enough for this.

There was something building in him like a tide, riding high on resentment and his spiralling thoughts. It wasn’t green tinted like the pit rage, his vision was still clear… if anything, it felt sharper, like everything had been dialled up to eleven. Like the terrible, roaring anger was seeking a target.

“I am sorry that you have been robbed of your justice in this way,” Lady Gotham said quietly and once again Jason’s focus narrowed down with her intensity, like she was the only real thing in the world, “that even your own emotions of this, your death, have been used against you. It is…”

She hesitated, actually looking to Danny for help herself for the first time. Judging from the sudden low horror Jason could feel from the other man, he might actually be under reacting.

Or the tide was still rising.

He felt like razing the whole city to the fucking ground, with his own hands, brick by brick. Or puking. Or screaming until his lungs ripped out of his chest, if only he could move.

It felt like something had reached into his brain and cranked up the contrast, made the already neon brights of the Ghost Zone brighter, the shadows darker, the very air prickling at his skin like needles with the urge to do something.

Because if he moved, did anything, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Not when every muscle ached to tear the whole universe apart.

He was almost a passenger in his own skin as something else, a different, slow boiling rage barely under control clamped him in a vice.

“So y’know we talked about not asking about how ghosts died?” Danny said slowly, his voice suddenly low and hoarse.

Jason managed a stiff nod, every muscle twanging tight with tension. It had been pretty important, pre-Ghost-Zone.

And he could put the pieces together, right from the tight hot center of that ball of rage that he was pretty sure was his own core.

“This is worse,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look over. Didn’t have to, when he could feel the face Danny was pulling through the worry-worry-fear-anger-horror still surrounding him.

He… fuck. He was a little afraid of what he might do, if there was even an ounce of pity on Danny’s face, and honestly that panicked him more than anything else. All the rage wanted was a target, and he didn’t think he’d be able to choose what it was.

Danny nodded anyway, making a conscious effort to try and reign his aura in. Like he couldn’t hear the subtext, feel it in Jason’s, or like he could and didn’t care.

It left him feeling cold, icy and alone, but still relieved under the echoing slam of rage in his veins. A little more alone in his own head. A little less watched. Judged. Not good enough.

“Like, worse than worse, dude. Ghosts will throw down and rip each other apart just for fun and no one’s actually hurt, but… you don’t fuck with somebody’s death. You just don’t. It’s the worst thing you could do to a ghost, worse than Ending them. Not even Pariah Dark…”

“Exactly,” Lady Gotham hissed, baring her teeth in something not even remotely a smile, full cheeks and lips suddenly gaunt and hollow as the teeth became fangs. It lasted barely a moment, a flicker before it faded, but it snapped Jason straight out of his fury with a sudden shock of terror.

She’d been intimidating before. Effortlessly, gracefully powerful and commanding, the kind of person people would beg to step on them without a hint of aggression. Those teeth though… just the moment of that rage, of something so powerful suddenly nothing but raw, feral danger…

It wasn’t even directed at him but it still felt like a bucket of cold water down his spine. An instant urge to duck his head, show his throat, convince this much larger predator that he wasn’t a threat.

She was immediately contrite, turning her head away as her face cast into shadow, only the red pupils still visible.

“My apologies. It is… less personal for me than it is for you, yet it seems still too close to my heart.”

Forcing himself to swallow, Jason took a couple of deep, heavy breaths. The anger was still there, kind of. He could feel it in an almost distant way, past the hammering of his heart, but it wasn’t all he was anymore.

It was just… a feeling now. One he was in control of.

The shadows were just shadows again. The green of the Zone no longer blinding.

He blew the last breath out slowly, and let the remnants of the anger go with it.

“No, uh… it’s fine. I think that helped, actually,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly embarrassed at just how tense he’d become.

Justified, apparently, from both the other ghosts’ reactions, but that didn’t mean Jason wanted to feel so out of control. How close to just… being carried away by the anger.

No matter what anyone else said, no matter what the damn Pit or Joker-monster or whatever the fuck else tried to do, Jason Todd was not going to be defined by rage.

For one thing, he’d never live it down.

Danny sagged beside him, relief as tangible as that last breath flowing out of him, despite the core of concern underneath. That was fine; Jason was still concerned too.

And maybe thinking about his stash of ecto-candies again, but he honestly didn’t feel half as drained this time. He wasn’t even scared of Lady Gotham anymore - that moment had ended as soon as it started. As soon as she’d tucked those terrifying needle-like teeth away. Now she just looked…

Proud. Proud, and fond, and so, so sad. Like Alfred had been the first time he presented Jason with his very own Robin suit for the field.

It choked something inside Jason just a little, made his throat tight and breath hitch.

“You are so much more than anyone gives you credit for, Jason Todd,” she said softly, her sclera softening briefly to a bright, sunshine yellow. Like the cape he’d drowned in as a boy flying from her rooftops, “and they all think far better of you than you believe.”

That caught him up for a moment, confusion pulling into the absolute fucking mess of emotions he was pretty sure he was projecting to all and sundry.

Then Danny sighed heavily and draped himself sideways over Jason’s shoulders like a particularly lanky and bony scarf.

“Yeah, yeah, and your ghost mom is fucking terrifying. Did not need that reminder, Ladyship,” he tossed at Lady Gotham with a cheeky wink, effectively steam rolling the tension yet again.

Jason could have kissed him, but from the angle Danny had flopped on, his options were armpit or hip, and neither appealed.

Sassy comebacks, he could handle. Reassurances that people didn’t think he was a complete sack of shit, apparently not.

The whole batfam were just perfect poster kids for mental health, alright?

The Lady herself laughed softly and inclined her head, not arguing the point.

“Of course. Still, I am sorry Jason.”

He cut her off this time, raising both hands and stopping just short of reaching for the back of his neck again, which was about where Danny’s waist was sat.

“Don’t be. I… think I needed to be knocked out of my head there. I really do feel better now,” he added, and Danny huffed a noncommittal noise and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, well. You’re allowed to be pissed about it,” Danny informed him like he wasn’t sure if Jason actually knew that.

Which, obviously, Jason absolutely wasn’t. He had a pit ghost baby to teach good habits to, and Danny still had no idea what Jason was like when he actually lost control of the anger. But he could appreciate the sentiment.

And deflect like a Robin.

“Oh, is that a royal decree?” He asked archly, and while this noise was no more coherent than the last it was decidedly more whiny and drawn out into wordless protest.

Which still ended in a very quiet “yes.”

Luckily, quiet enough that Jason could pretend he didn’t hear it.

“Anyway, I’m good. Still gonna kick this thing’s ass for messing with my head, and maybe put it in a blender, but for now I’m good. Chill vibes only for Pitty,” he added with a roll of his eyes when Danny made a confused little chirping sound.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly to herself and nodded, resettling herself to recline on her smog clouds once more.

“Indeed. You currently have more pressing concerns; as little as I enjoy the present situation, it can wait. The Curse and I can monitor this new being’s behaviour through the rogues it has affected; they are noticeably becoming more violent, while the Curse is swaying the rest towards being less. For contrast,” she added before Jason could ask.

Which… might actually explain why Riddler had tossed a broken game box at Croc and the Wayne gala rather than trying to fix it. He’d stripped most of the interesting stuff according to Tim’s report, sure, but Nygma never let a thread go.

So he wasn’t gonna be on this new bad guy’s kill list.

Nor would Waylon, and Harley had been more destructive than homicidal for years. Already making a mental list on the events he’d caught wind of in the last few weeks, Jason didn’t even realise the conversation had moved on without him until Danny stuck a wet finger in his ear.

“What the actual fuck!” Jason demanded, trying to shrug the ghost off his shoulders. And while there was deadass no weight to Danny in this form, it was frankly unfair that he just rolled with the movement like he also didn’t have bones, snickering.

“You had Resting Bat Face,” he explained with a grin, twisting upwards to look down at him in a way that actually really shouldn’t have been doable with a human spine - and Jason had grown up around Dick Grayson, who ran the limit of everything a human spine was capable of.

“He does best with a problem to solve,” Lady Gotham noted with a sly amusement. “This one, however, has no time limit as yet. If I thought you would listen, I would have insisted on telling you at a later date.”

And that was just pointed enough that Jason rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush in spite of himself. He just… liked to have all of the information. It’s not like he was Bruce.

“Yeah, well, I like to know what I’m dealing with,” he grumbled, folding his arms and scowling at Danny. Who grinned back and ruffled his hair.

“Well, either way. Not like you need to pull the spandex back on imminently, right? There’s plenty of bats around,” he offered hopefully, and Jason felt a quick pang.

Danny… really didn’t want him to have to be a vigilante. He could taste it in the hope, in the worry, in everything his king was putting off. For some reason, he seemed to think Jason had come back to life and left the masks behind.

Like he hadn’t even thought about why Jason was still in fighting shape to be his fucking knight in the first place.

He knew he’d be annoyed if it was anyone else trying to insist he stay out of the game. He’d shot at Dick more than once for suggesting he go home when he was injured; the rest knew better than to say a word.

He hadn’t even considered giving up the vigilante life when he came back from the dead… except that brief period when he’d sort of been a rogue. He’d never even been a normal crime lord, most of them were way less hands on.

If he looked at the future now, he couldn’t imagine ever giving it up. The rogues would apparently literally always be a problem; the city would always need protectors.

That thought had never made him sad before, and yet…

Was it really the first time anyone had suggested he’d done enough? He’d died, and sure Jason was back now, but Danny seemed to really, actually believe he could stop wearing the mask.

That he’d given enough, given everything, and could and should just have a peaceful life now.

It made him almost ashamed to admit that he’d never even considered the possibility.

For all Jason railed against teen heroes, he’d only stopped being one for a temporary villain arc. Which was apparently at least partially supernaturally motivated, which was fun.

It’d shut Bruce up if Jason ever dragged that out in an argument, but Bruce already thought Jason was too volatile and susceptible to being controlled. Never mind that he hadn’t actually killed the Joker and started the apocalypse or whatever, all Bruce would hear was “someone else made Jason a villain so it could happen again”.

He’d probably try and take Jason off the case of this mystic whatever that was feeding on death. Fuck that noise. Until Bruce got a face to face with Lady G, Jason probably wouldn’t even tell him the details.

(Honestly, if there was even half a chance of avoiding that subject altogether, he’d take it. Bruce got ornery about magic in his city in a way none of the Robins had ever enjoyed dealing with, and that had been back when he and Jason had a good relationship.

Now… well, Constantine had been sticking around, so hopefully he could handle that mess and Jason could just get the actual work done.)

He gave Danny his best reassuring smile anyway, rolling his eyes and reaching to try and ruffle his hair. Found that he actually couldn’t quite reach with the way Danny was twisted around him, which was kinda weird.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard Frostbite. Side effects of the forming core could be pretty much fucking anything, and til Pitty pops out I’m not even gonna do research on anything that’ll set us off.”

Which wasn’t the same as saying he wouldn’t start the case. He could arrange what he already knew, start a plan of action, and organise his next steps without doing any additional research, after all.

Something about Lady Gotham’s delicately arching eyebrow let him know that she, at least, was onto his bullshit. Lucky for Jason, Danny just accepted the words, grinning and twisting around to wrap his whole head in a hug.

And then flowed back off his shoulders like a fucking liquid before Jason could worry about having to breathe.

“That’s great! Oh, and we should set up your haunt too! That’ll help!” Danny enthused brightly, clapping his hands and doing his best impression of a totally solid human that was apparently not his default.

Maybe it was a ghost thing.

Just so long as he never did it in human form, Jason could ignore that he definitely shoulda felt a ribcage being squeezed like that…

And no, Jason absolutely wasn’t wondering about what else Danny could use that noodley flexibility for. Totally not letting Dick know either… for competitive gymnast reasons, definitely.

No one wanted to deal with that.

And then his brain fizzled to a halt as Danny’s actual words penetrated and a sliver of concern slipped in.

Because… yeah. They’d talked about haunts. It was practically the first topic on the list; what to do in someone else’s haunt, what to never ever do even near someone else’s haunt, what a haunt meant to a ghost.

It was soul-underwear again, one of the most sacred parts of a person’s soul; their truest, actual home. Fortress and power source.

Halfas had to have them too, since Danny and Frostbite had both insisted that keeping and maintaining his haunt were going to be vital to his health while his cores stabilized. As in, Frostbite told him not to leave it for long and suggested redecorating as a soothing activity.

(Danny’s was officially Amity Park, which had not escaped Jason’s notice when he was apparently being put on haunt-arrest. It might have been an older halfa thing; very few ghosts actually stayed in their haunts all the time, although Jason could see the temptation.

It also might have been something else, and Jason had this thing about secrets and surprises down the line. He’d ask later, if he couldn’t work it out himself.)

Danny called Crime Alley Jason’s haunt, and that had felt right from the first time he’d said it. Crime Alley was his, his territory, his space, his home more than anywhere else. He knew it inside and out, could feel its moods and taste the changes in the air when something went wrong.

Baby ghosts usually couldn’t claim a haunt of any size as their own, but Jason knew that the Alley belonged to him.

That was before he’d met Lady Gotham. And if she was the spirit of the whole city… maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe it was just through her that he knew it so well?

He found himself looking to her uncertainly, searching her face in case there was any trace of displeasure. Any sign she didn’t want another ghost’s haunt in… well, what was kinda her physical body.

He couldn’t see or feel anything, but when she’d already been so careful about keeping her feelings her own… no better time to ask, really.

“Yeah… about that…” this time he did scratch the back of his neck, Danny safely down beside him. Which was about when he realized that he had no clue how to word the question.

Haunts were personal, he knew that much.

Then again, Lady Gotham said she was his ghost-mom. That had to include stupid questions. Blunt it was.

“Is it weird if I have a haunt in the city? I mean, it’s obviously your city, duh, but how do I… it feels like I’m squatting in your closet,” he said finally, giving up on not being just the most awkward creature in a thousand mile radius.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times, excitement fading to a confused fascination as his words sunk in.

“Y’know, that’s a really good point… except it’s more like he’s squatting in your kidneys,” he pointed out to Lady Gotham, turning to face her too.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly and took a slow drag from her traffic cone, which had almost stopped smoking.

“Ah, I forget the limitations of a halfa’s knowledge… all ghosts begin with a haunt within their parent’s, Jason. From the moment you returned to my arms I opened up the Alley for you, and it has been yours ever since.” She paused to blow out a long plume of smog, which shaped itself into a tiny row of very familiar buildings.

Jason didn’t have to see more than a couple to know what they were; he could feel it right down to his core.

“When you are older, stronger, you may desire another, although being in the mortal world is already a degree of distance, but Crime Alley will always be your first,” Lady Gotham continued as Crime Alley bloomed from the smog before them, tiny and yet more than just an image, more than just a replica; the real thing in the scope of her power.

There were no lights in tiny windows, nothing moving through the smog, and yet it was still clearly alive. No, filled with things that were alive, people and noise and even the rats.

And it was his. His beating heart.

Lady Gotham’s smile was a tender beacon in the fog, her hands coming up to caress the smoking Crime Alley and gently waft it in his direction.

“Every crumbling brick, every pothole, every shadow. It is a heavy responsibility, and one I shall share with you until you decide you no longer need my help, but it will always be yours, Jason. It would not have accepted anyone else.”

The cluster of smoggy buildings fell apart as they reached Jason and for a moment he nearly panicked trying to keep them together, but… he was suddenly washed in a wave of old, familiar scent.

Not the burned rubber and pollution of all the rest of the smogs, the constant smell of the city. This was… floral. Soft, and sweet, and chemical in the way that cheap perfumes always were because they couldn’t have afforded the good ones.

Watered down, because they could get even that so rarely that she would begin refilling the bottle with water when it was barely half empty. Catherine Todd’s favourite perfume.

It hadn’t covered the stink of cigarettes and worse coming from the very walls of their apartment; he’d only smelled it when she was holding him close. Shielding him from Willis’s rage, tucking him into bed, cuddled up on the couch to wait out the rain or sickness.

The smell of home.

It brought tears to his eyes, the pressure of the day threatening to spill over and overwhelm him again.

Intellectually, it felt like another moment that should have been terrifying. More than any show of teeth, this was her strength. Who and what she was, she could break him with a wave of her hand, a wisp of smoke, and yet…

He felt warm. Comforted. Wrapped in her smile and at peace in a way he hadn’t in… fuck it had been years.

There was something else too, a layer under the flowers that only the deepest detective-trained parts of him tried to pluck apart; it was part of the home smell, inextricable, but it didn’t make sense. Wasn’t the perfume. Just the very faintest hint of baking far away, and Catherine Todd had never been able to afford…

Oh.

Of course not. Because Catherine Todd, his mother in every possible sense of the word but one, had never met Alfred.

So, the good news: Tucker was currently in the lead for Spiderheck. Bad news: they’d finished the first set (Tim won, but he’d been two ahead from the start which was cheating), and… the game had ticked directly over into another set.

They hadn’t been planning on changing any settings, so it was fine, and Conner and Tim hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

But… Tucker was beginning to worry, just a little. He’d done video games before, with Danny and Sam; no worries, they’d taken a turn directly in pretty much every game they’d played together.

Just, y’know, he knew Danny and Sam really well. And Tim and Conner were really cool, and he understood a lot more about how the Supers worked than he ever had before? But, maybe that was why he’d kinda screwed up.

Because he wanted things to be fair, and didn’t want them to think he’d given himself extra advantages. So they were all spiders, all the same.

And he wasn’t completely sure where the meta controls were?

Danny and Sam always insisted he have a version of the controller somewhere, so they could flick to the menu (and sometimes run riot there too). Last time they did Spiderheck, he’d put the buttons on his stomach, so Danny and Sam could try and hit them for an extra level of difficulty.

But he wanted to be fair. Didn’t want extra powers. And, apparently, technopathy had sorta maybe converted that wish into him not being able to feel it while he was spidered up.

All his combat moves were fine! The break, grab, web commands were smooth and easy, just like every other time he did them. Different attacks, no worries. And, obviously, he hadn’t stood still and tried to look for the code, because they were playing Spiderheck and that was a really easy way to get wiped.

Dodging another swinging attack from Tim, he scuttled at top speed across the platform and jumped behind a box. No weapons here, and he scanned quickly for the next spawn point.

Which, normally, shoulda shown up on two levels; the normal game vision, and the white lined underlay of the code, which he could always see through from top to bottom of the level.

(This was usually an active impediment rather than an advantage in Spiderheck; it was way too hard to know what he could stand on.)

He couldn’t see one, just the platform above and the wall behind.

Maybe he should take an early death, just to give himself a little time to work this out. Just so he could stop worrying. He was 21, he’d had these powers for years, he totally knew how they worked by now.

He just, maybe, might have gotten overconfident.

Danny would never let him live it down if they all had to be rescued from Spiderheck.

And, way more importantly, Tim Drake-Wayne and his super hot boyfriend would only remember him as the loser who couldn’t even control his powers.

Nope. Absolutely not.

A loud buzzing heralded the arrival of one of the spinning laser traps, and Tucker made up his mind. Just one early death. No worries. He had a two win lead, and honestly he’d rather lose the set than admit he’d fucked up.

Scuttling “away” from Tim’s probable next attack, Tucker scurried into the path of the spinning laser trap.

And saw, at the very last second, Conner swinging in from the other side, directly into a laser.

Shit.

Sam was comfortably snuggled down into her pillows and thoroughly enjoying the chaos her new chat was creating when she finally heard the door. A little too buried to easily get up, or look particularly graceful doing it, so instead she stuck a hand straight up into the air.

“In here, love!”

And, like the angel of mercy that she was, Val only made her wait ten minutes to get out of all of her winter gear and put the kettle on before coming to save her from her fate.

“Not the fastest rescue I’ve received,” Sam teased, even as Val hauled her easily to her feet. Val grinned back and pulled her in for a quick peck.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed. I can do better.”

“I bet you can,” Sam laughed, draping her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders. Val gave her another, deeper kiss, then drew back enough to press their foreheads together.

“So, how was Gotham? I saw Danny made the front page,” she teased back, and Sam hesitated.

In amongst all of their various plans for disaster, it hadn’t really come up that whatever they did at the party, it was sure to make the gossip rags. Front page though? That was probably an achievement.

And, given what she herself had done, really annoying.

“What, they gave the front page to him? I blatantly accused at least two CEOs and Lex Luthor of weaponizing misogyny, with citations, and Danny got the front page?” She huffed, drawing back and folding her arms, fully intent on turning away to sulk, but not remotely objecting when Val’s arms snuck around her waist and pulled her back in.

Val’s chin tucked in over her shoulder and the taller woman snickered.

“I know, right? Sadly cold hard facts just fade away in the face of a scandal.” Val sighed dramatically, then dropped a kiss on the side of Sam’s neck. “You’re on page seven. It’s mostly about your parents, but using Lex’s name got a couple other points in. Oh, and Vicki Vale did a three page piece on how Brucie Wayne specifically upholds the patriarchy. I think she quoted you.”

Sam considered that for a moment, her arms automatically coming around to cover Val’s for a brief squeeze. It wasn’t like she’d actually been planning to change anything at the gala. Mostly she’d just wanted to be heard.

It could be an interesting starting point, though. Especially since she got to pick her outfit for the next gala; her mother hadn’t even specified that it had to be a dress on the document, which was definitely a peace offering.

Cass Wayne had looked really good in that suit.

Her cheeks suddenly hot for absolutely no reason, Sam twisted in Val’s arms to kiss her again.

“I’m sorry my mom’s… the worst,” she finished lamely, wrapping her arms around Val again.

The whole fall-from-grace thing may have been seven years ago, and Val had more than moved on, but. Well. Sam didn’t exactly believe all the scars had healed.

Especially when Val stilled for a moment in her arms.

Then she chuckled, wrapping her arms a littler tighter around Sam and lifting her off her feet.

“Hey, at least she’s not actually a bigot. It’s always nicer to be hated personally than in general, y’know?” She teased, echoing something Sam was pretty sure Danny had said to her back in her Phantom-hunting days.

Sam huffed and wrapped her legs around Val’s waist too, raining kisses down on her face.

“Yeah, well, she can still shove it up her ass. You’re my date for the next gala, if you actually want to come.”

Which.

Well.

Was about when she realized that the next gala was probably going to be extra interesting, after all their shenanigans. Maybe they should have been more discrete? More careful?

Her worry must have shown on her face, because Val gave her a very gentle bounce to shake her out of it.

“Hey. Samantha Manson. I would be delighted to go to the next gala with you, and tell all the little journalists that yeah, I’m that Val,” she said firmly once Sam had refocused on her. Then she grinned. “I’ll even be on my best behaviour and not one up Danny until the second one.”

That made Sam laugh again, hugging on tight even as Val turned and easily carried her through to their little kitchenette and sat her up on one of the counters.

“Hey, did you get that autograph from Harley for me by the way? I wanna send it to my dad for his birthday,” she added, sneaking another kiss and then pulling a pair of mugs next to the steaming kettle.

Sam considered hopping off the counter. Didn’t bother, reaching behind herself instead to pull her favourite tea for the month and drop a bag into her mug.

“Yeah, a couple actually. And she said if we wanna meet Ivy she’ll let us know when they’re back on the west coast, but it won’t be any time soon.” That hadn’t been particularly surprising, but it still made Sam a little sad.

Just another reminder that they were on the outside looking in all the way over here.

Valerie stilled, coming back and resting both hands on Sam’s thighs.

“Do you miss being on the east coast?” She asked quietly, those gorgeous green eyes so large and gentle.

Sam hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and let her head thunk back against the cupboard behind her.

“Honestly, I think I just miss being closer to everyone. It’s not far for Danny with the Zone, but if you or I wanna visit anyone we have to hop on an airplane or spend weeks driving, neither of which are good for the environment. We just… get forgotten out here, stuck out of the loop.”

Val raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face but eyes still soft with understanding.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. I thought I’d pick up a new phone and rejoin the group chat that day, but suddenly I gotta wait nearly a week for “new secrets”,” she teased and Sam sighed, shaking her head. Not quite able to lift all the way out of her funk.

“Yeah, I know… it probably woulda been fine, Danny shouldn’t have dropped anything at all in the main chat if he didn’t want everyone to see it, I just…”

“Wanted to be more sensitive than he is,” Val finished the sentence, leaning in for another kiss. Not needing to reach up even with Sam sat on the counter. “That’s why I’m still dating you.”

It did pull a smile from Sam anyway and she draped her arms over her girlfriend’s shoulders again.

“For some reason. So, what did you think?”

Val shrugged, her hands sliding up to settle around Sam’s waist.

“About a new halfa? Probably sucks for him. Especially when he’s gotta come out as dead to his family. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for being stable,” she pointed out when Sam snickered.

Which was a fair point.

“They’re actually worse when there’s more of them,” she mused, glancing back towards the bed where she’d left her phone, “and the oldest’s a cop now.”

This time it was Val’s turn to snicker.

“Yeah, I heard. Tuck already sent me the blow by blow of you eviscerating the poor guy.”

Sam preened. Deservedly.

“Hey, you know me, I’m not gonna play nice just cuz I’ve been dragged to some social function.”

The snicker turned to a chuckle as Val leaned in, rubbing their noses together.

“And you know me, baby girl, ACAB all the way, and I still think that should extend to the Justice League. Heard half of Batman Inc also showed up, did you let them have it too?”

“You know I did,” Sam purred, locking her ankles behind Val’s back and nipping playfully at her lower lip. Val laughed, her hands creeping slowly up the small of Sam’s back.

“That’s my little leopard. Tea’s done.” And then, totally unfairly, she reached back with one hand and pulled Sam’s ankles apart, slipping free with a laugh as Sam pouted. “Hey, you’d be more upset if I let it over steep.”

“I can make more tea,” Sam grumbled, finally slipping off the counter, but a rebellious smile made it onto her face anyway. Val toasted her with the french press.

“True that, darling, but I’m not wasting the good coffee beans. Daddy asked me four times if I was sure about taking the train but honestly, he’s a state away now, it’s not worth a flight.”

Setting her teabag aside, Sam squirted in some vanilla agave syrup and took a deep breath. Gotham was fine, but no hotels could match her home tea stash. Not even the Waynes could.

“Beautiful, strong, environmentally conscious, and a Daddy’s girl. How did I land you again?” She asked innocently as Val dropped creamer into her own mug.

“By being all of those but the last one,” Val countered easily, taking a mug and holding an arm out for Sam to tuck under. “Now c’mon, if I’m going to the next gala you need to tell me allllll about a certain cutie Cassandra Wayne,” she cooed, making for their couch.

Sam’s face flushed red and she made to duck away instantly, but those damn vigilante muscles made it so hard.

“Okay, veto, you’re not allowed to do that anymore! My mom is trying to hook me up with her!” Sam did not whine. She. Protested. With dignity. Totally no idea why Val snickered, holding her coffee up and away in her other arm.

“Yeah, that’s the point. How funny would it be if Danny and I both stole a Wayne from you?” She asked with a vicious grin.

Which… did make Sam pause. Because that would be really funny. And Cass would almost certainly be down for it; she wasn’t as loud or attention seeking as any of the boys, but Sam could recognize the wicked gleam in anyones’ eyes when they enjoyed the chaos.

Then she sighed.

“No, we have to be good for the next gala. Otherwise no one’s going to listen to what I actually have to say.”

Val hummed an agreement, guiding her to sit on the plush, well loved cushions. It was an old couch, and a hand-me-down from Sam’s work, but it was just too good to pass up. They could both lie comfortably side by side on the seat, if they snuggled just a little, and the back was wide and plush enough for two throws.

“Okay. The gala after that, then. It’ll make our slow burn long distance romance all the more compelling,” she added when Sam snorted, finally releasing Sam to sink comfortably into oblivion.

Sam swatted at her and put her tea down on the table.

“You’re dreadful. I love you. We’ll ask Cass, lemme just get my phone and I’ll hook you into the group chat with her, Steph, and Babs. They’re Wayne family friends,” she added at Val’s questioning noise, “I haven’t met Babs yet, but Steph is great. You’re gonna love her.”

“Only if we’re going for some three’s company action,” Val snickered as Sam jogged to the bedroom, flipping her girlfriend off as she went.

Jason was quiet as they left the Zone. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, especially after the day he’d had and the emotional whiplash.

Danny was doing his very best not to let it bother him. He remembered the early days of being a halfa, how much he’d second-guessed himself, how much every new change and discovery had rocked his world. And he’d been a teenager, all hormones and fire and energy.

He hadn’t even been dead a month before shit got weird.

Jason was twenty-two, and had already been dead for almost seven years. Danny’d like to think he’d found ways to cope, but seven years in himself he was pretty sure he still hadn’t.

Whatever Jason had dealt with in those six and a half years was being ripped up in front of him day by day.

If there was anything he wanted, anything he needed, Danny would be there for him in a heartbeat. Before he could even have to ask, if possible. Aaaand the only thing he couldn’t do that for was if Jason needed space.

Lady Gotham had been able to open them a portal directly into Jason’s apartment; Danny preferred to aim high enough to miss walls and buildings on the way back, but it was her city. She knew exactly where everything and anything was - the portal had been in the back of Jason’s front door.

Danny totally wasn’t jealous. He could come back out almost at the same place he’d gone in, if he was quick. And he could go intangible anyway.

It was still really cool to watch the city spirit do it, the way the realms opened easily and willingly at her touch. She’d given Jason a token, a coin that had to be at least six hundred years old that showed the city’s skyline. Apparently he could use it to get in touch with her, or get back to the Zone on his own if Danny couldn’t take him.

Danny was fine with that. For sure.

The Infinite Realms were dangerous, but the token should bring him straight to Lady Gotham, in an emergency. And then Danny could follow and find her, and find Jason. It was a super reasonable backup plan.

He still found himself hovering in the doorway, unsure if Jason wanted him to stay or go while the other man shrugged out of his coat, boots, and shoulder holster that Danny had totally missed this entire time. And then walked directly into the bathroom.

Danny hovered a little closer, entirely unknowing what exactly he’d do if Jason was crying. Or screaming. Or beating a hole in the wall away from prying eyes. Or, actually using the bathroom for its intended purpose, apparently.

Because Danny forgot Jason was still in mandatory human form at all times.

He couldn’t hear anything from inside the bathroom with the door shut anyway, not even movement or the sink running. But then again, Jason’s family knew Superman personally. That probably lead to some inside jokes and really specific precautions.

Danny hovered back to the door. Stared around at the incredibly clean, well organized display of video games and weaponry on the walls, the double shelf of books.

This, he was beginning to suspect, was a third, larger, more expensive apartment. The furniture and room layouts were about the same, but he was like 80% sure the apartment they’d played MarioKart in hadn’t had as much stuff.

This one had some dishes waiting by the sink though. Given how well organized everything else was, they stuck out.

…

Five minutes. Jason was still in the bathroom.

Danny hated waiting. If he was going to stick around, he could justify it by helping out. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

———————

Part two imminent! All my love to the tag list, you’ll be following the link on this one so you don’t get both separately

Part 2:

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop p @mayoota-blog @xysidhe e @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper r @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking g @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor r @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 8 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf f @frivolous-pastel

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton dead and loving it #dfdali #dead on main ship #chapter probably 18 part 1 #so that just happened #in which there is LORE #and SPIDERHECK #and LESBIANS #feast my children feast

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