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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 9 months

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"i wanna Be Cool, but only if you want me to."

"want to impress you"

synopsis// everyone knows that basketball is the way to someone's heart.

pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader

word count// 3.8k

contents// college au, basketball au, mutual unknown pining?, friends to lovers?, gojo is a loser, obligatory this is for you and misses

notes// lu wanted a basketball au so lu gets a basketball au. also obviously inspired by the basketball scene in jjk s2 anywho this is just kinda short n goofy :p also inspired by the song i wanna be cool by super whatevr. also i have no idea how basketball works and only ever played for fun so ermmm if anything is wrong bring that up with the universe !

Shoko unwillingly finds herself sitting on a random bench in the boys locker room, her arms crossed as she glares at the two boys in front of her.

“Why did you guys drag me in here?”

Geto speaks up first: “In my defense, this is all on Satoru, and I have no part in this.”

“You still dragged me in here, did you not?”

“…Yes.”

“Then you took part in it.”

Gojo smiles as he smacks Geto on the back. “Exactly! You’re my accomplice.”

Shoko rolls her eyes. “Again, why did you guys drag me in here?”

“A presentation!”

“A presentation I have nothing to do with,” Geto chimes in as he takes a seat beside Shoko.

She briefly raises her eyebrow at Geto before directing it toward Gojo. “A presentation?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t see a projector or anything worth presenting here,” she says, looking around the room unamused.

“A presentation minus the actual presenting part...”

“So you dragged me in here just to talk to me?”

Geto leans in and whispers, “He actually wants to ask you something.”

Gojo stomps his foot like he’s about to throw a tantrum. “Geto shut up!”

“Can you just hurry up, Gojo?" She asks impatiently. “It reeks of axe body spray in here; I think it might actually kill me.”

He ignores her dramatics because, honestly, she’s not wrong. “You're coming to our game tonight, right?”

“I mean, yeah? Who isn't? It's the biggest game of the season.”

Geto adds, “That's what I said!”

“Do you know if Y/N is going?”

“Is that what you seriously dragged me in here for? Why didn't you just ask Y/N themself? You guys are friends, are you not?”

“Well yeah!” Gojo mumbles sheepishly, “But when I asked, they said maybe...”

“That means no,” Geto says quickly through a cough, as if trying to cover it up.

Gojo hears anyway and outstretches his arms toward Geto as if trying to draw attention toward him. “Exactly!” He then brings his hands in front of his face in a praying motion and begs, “Shoko, please!”

“Oh my fucking god, I don't know why you don't just ask them out already.”

“That's what I'm trying to do! But in order to do that, I kinda need them to go to tonight's game.”

Shoko glares at Gojo for what feels like forever, and Gojo glares back like they’ve suddenly entered a staring contest, and it’s Shoko who breaks eye contact first.

She sighs and pushes the hair out of her face as she mumbles, “God, you're lucky I'm tired of both of you pining after each other.”

“Thank you, Shoko!” he beams. “Also here.”

Shoko takes whatever Gojo is handing her and holds it up, her eyes slightly wide as she inspects it. “…Is this your jersey?”

He nods, fully confident within himself now that Shoko has agreed to drag you to the game, but tilts his head at her because he has no idea why she’s confused. “Yeah, I want them to wear it?”

“You make me sick to my stomach, fine.”

“Shoko, do you wanna wear my jersey?” Geto suddenly asks.

She stares at him blankly, as if to ask if he really asked her that, knowing damn well she does not like him like that and she has a girlfriend, though after a few moments he finally gets the hint.

“Oh my god, not like that; I just want someone supporting me too.”

She sighs in relief, “Oh, thank god, don’t scare me like that, but yeah, fine, I’ll wear it.”

“Wait, what the hell?” Gojo exclaims, drawing Shoko’s and Geto’s attention back to him. “Shoko, would you have worn mine if I asked?”

“No.”

“What?! Why the hell not?”

“I like Geto more than I like you.”

He glares at her and quickly points out, “You're lying; if that was true, you wouldn't be helping me!”

Shoko simply shrugs and mumbles a small “bye” before getting up and leaving.

Geto stands up and takes his place next to Gojo, softly patting his back as he whispers, “Dare I say this ends our lifelong debate on who's superior?”

Gojo shrugs his hand off of him and speaks harshly through clenched teeth, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

“Why would I want to go watch a bunch of sweaty men fight over balls?” You mumble offhandedly, focusing your attention on netflix playing on your phone rather than on her.

“Ok, Y/N, first of all, there's only one ball, and second of all, did you forget Gojo is on the basketball team?”

You quickly turn off your phone and sit up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “….Have I ever mentioned that basketball is actually my favorite sport?”

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, pinching her nose bridge. “You're so obvious; why haven't you told him yet?”

“Are you insane? Gojo is hot, and on the basketball team, do you know how many people he already has crushing on him? I'm literally just another name on that list.”

“Sure,” she nods, “But the difference is that you're his friend too; you have more of a chance than anyone else.”

You sigh and frown at her. “Doubt.”

Shoko shakes her head, knowing that you two could spend all day here in your dorm debating whether you have a chance or not, but that’s not what she’s here for, so she’ll let you believe what you want, knowing that (hopefully) Gojo pulling whatever it is he wants to pull will prove you wrong.

“Whatever, put this on,” she says, throwing the jersey at you.

You catch it, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it curiously. “…Isn't this?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, is it?”

“Shoko.”

“Can you just trust me?”

“I'm literally just gonna look like another one of his groupies," you say, disdain and disappointment lacing your words as your eyes dart back and forth between her and the jersey.

She smiles, and it’s off-putting because it’s not her normal smile; no, you know, this is the smile she only wears when she’s about to drop a bomb on you. “Difference is that that's his actual jersey.”

You freeze.

“What?”

“I’ll save you a seat. Bye,” she says as she walks out of your dorm.

The slam of your door restarts your heart, and suddenly it and your mind are racing at 100 miles per hour, and the only thing you can do is word vomit despite the fact that Shoko is gone.

“What do you mean by that?! What do you mean this is his actual jersey?!” You run and fling open your door to yell out into the hallway, “Get back here!?”

Shoko is a good bit away at this point, but she still hears you call out for her and acknowledges that with a wave, yet she still keeps walking away, and you're stuck in your doorway with your chest heaving. You look back down at the jersey in your hands.

Holy shit.

Not only is this a jersey with Gojo’s number on it, but it’s his jersey. How did Shoko even get this? Did she just take it without him knowing? Too many thoughts are in your head, but there’s only one that keeps overlapping the others, there’s only one that’s consistent, only one that electrifies every neuron in your body:

Holy shit, this is Gojo’s jersey.

Fuck the questions and fuck the answers you know you won’t get; the only thing that matters to you right now is that you have and are about to wear Gojo’s jersey. You have to be dreaming; really, that’s the only logical answer, but holy fuck, if you’re dreaming, you do not plan on waking up anytime soon—or ever.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

The two teams quickly start filling up the court and taking up their respective spaces as they warm up, but Gojo, being Gojo, isn't doing that. Instead, he’s standing on the sidelines, looking in at the crowd of people starting to take their seats for the game, and his heart is racing as he searches the crowd for you, and it drops when he inevitably doesn’t find you, but he’s not discouraged, not yet at least, because the game hasn’t officially even started yet, so there’s still time for you to show up.

There’s still time.

He has to keep reminding himself that the whole time he’s warming up—now that he’s actually being forced to, though it’s a half-assed warm-up—he and his coach don’t even know whether what he’s doing could be considered a warm-up in the first place. The game is about to start any second now when Geto approaches Gojo.

“Nothing?”

Gojo’s head drops as he reluctantly shakes it.

Geto hums and searches the stands for you, but when he doesn't find you either, he tries to find the next best person, Shoko, and it's quite easy to find her considering she’s wearing Geto's jersey.

“Shoko!”

She looks down from the bleachers and sees Geto staring at her as he gestures toward Gojo, and she knows he's trying to ask where you are, but in all honesty, she has no idea either. She shrugs, and even from as high up as she is, she can hear Geto groan before grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.

“I'm sure they’ll come, dude.”

Gojo blankly stares at Geto, an eyebrow raised skeptically, as if to say, really? but before he can verbally reply, their coach comes over and removes Geto’s hand from Gojo’s shoulder to place his own hand there.

“I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, fix it.”

Geto and Gojo tense up at his tone, full of nothing but pure determination. This isn't him asking; this is him demanding that Gojo get his shit together.

“This is the biggest game yet, and I'm not gonna let you and some petty college drama get in the way of that. You're our best player. Act like it.”

Gojo can only nod. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's like his throat is closing, but he tries to will the feeling away. Though his reaction is enough for his coach, who starts walking off.

Geto stares up at Gojo with his eyebrows knit, concern lacing his voice, “Gojo...”

Gojo shakes his head and takes a deep breath before flashing Geto his signature smile. “I'm fine, Geto; cmon, we got a basketball game to win.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

To be totally honest, the reason you were running so late to the game was because you were mentally shitting your pants the entire time you were getting ready. For a good chunk of time, you just sat on your bed with the jersey laid out in front of you, staring at it. Just staring at it, that's all. Because yes, even though you said fuck the questions and fuck the answers, you very much could not do that, not when too many questions and unknown answers were flooding your brain like a dam had cracked. You think you probably would've stayed like that all day and night, missing the game entirely, if not for Shoko spam calling your phone.

“What?”

“Don't 'what' me, where the fuck are you?” She snaps through the phone.

“Uh, getting ready?”

“Y/N, the game started twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh shit,” you say, hopping off your bed and quickly grabbing the jersey.

“Yeah, oh shit! Get your ass down here!”

You don't bother saying goodbye; instead, you quickly hang up, throw the jersey on as fast as you can, and bolt out the door. The halls are empty as you race through them, and you're not surprised; everyone is already at the game—everyone but you—and you speed up your pace just a smidge more. God, you're an idiot, missing the best game of the season—okay, you don't actually care about that. God, you're an idiot, missing seeing Gojo and maybe getting answers on how Shoko obtained his jersey—that's better.

You get to the gym in record time, slightly surprised at how quickly you got there, but you ignore that as you try to catch your breath before walking in and try to prepare yourself for the amount of noise that will assault your ears when you do. You can already hear how loud it is; the walls not doing very much at all to muffle the yells of people. You walk in and wince slightly at the noise as you look around for Shoko. She immediately finds you and waves her hand in the air for you to find, as does Utahime, who's sitting next to her. You smile and quickly make your way toward them, apologizing to the people you pushed through to get to them in the first place. You take your seat next to Shoko with a sigh.

“What did I miss?” you ask, leaning forward slightly just so you can look at both Utahime and Shoko.

Utahime has a small grimace on her face, and Shoko merely motions toward the scoreboard, and the minute you look, your jaw drops. Gojo’s team was losing. No. Losing isn't even the right word here; they were getting absolutely destroyed. They had zero points—none at all. You look back toward the two girls in disbelief.

“What the fuck?”

“Gojo is literally sucking so much ass that it's throwing everyone else off,” Utahime says with a shrug before glancing down at your clothes. “Are you wearing his jersey?”

You clear your throat awkwardly and look away, ignoring the smirk on Shoko's face.

“So, uh, do we know why Gojo’s sucking ass?” You ask after a brief moment of silence.

“Nope,” Utahime responds with a shake of her head.

“I do,” Shoko says nonchalantly.

Your head snaps back toward her. “What? Why?”

“Yeah, you didn't tell me either!”

Shoko rolls her eyes and ignores both of you as she loudly calls out to Gojo, who, by some grace of god, hears her over the hundreds of other people yelling for him. Gojo’s eyes immediately find hers, and he watches how she subtly jerks her head to the side, and like some angel descended from the heavens, like a god showing itself in a moment of dire, he looks and finds you sitting there in his jersey, and he can't help the smile on his face, can't help how just your presence lit a fire underneath him, can't help how just seeing you gave him his pep back in his step.

Gojo finds Geto’s eyes on the court and nods determinedly. They are winning this game, whether it's the last thing Gojo does. He's not going to look like a fool in front of you. So that's exactly what Gojo does. Once the second period starts, Gojo steals back the ball with a new sudden ease, and by halftime, he’s gotten the team caught up to the other one, starting the third period with a tie.

“How the hell did he do that? I thought you guys said he sucked!”

“Aw man, I was rooting for the other team,” Utahime says, frowning, and you have to resist the urge to chew her out in defense of Gojo.

Shoko shrugs. “He was till you know…”

You stare at her blankly. “No, I don't know, actually. Care to enlighten me?”

“No, I do not,” she says before turning to Utahime. “And don't worry, they're only tied; there's still a chance the other team will win.”

Utahime cheerfully hums as she rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder. “You’re right!”

“Don't encourage her to root for the other team?!”

Utahime sticks her tongue out at you, and before any of you can say anything else, a loud buzzer rings across the gym, indicating a point was made, and to your delight, it was for Gojo’s team. For the rest of the third period, it was just buzzer after buzzer as Gojo’s team took back their rightful place on the scoreboard, completely smashing the other team into the ground, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Watching Gojo in his element was doing detrimental things to your crush on him, only making it worse, but you can't even seem to care. Shoko looks over to you and laughs.

“I can practically see the hearts in your eyes.”

You scoff. “Shut up!”

Down on the court, they had just started their last two-minute break between third and fourth period, with the coaches gathering their respective teams into a huddle.

“Alright guys,” Gojo’s coach began, “Keep your heads in the game; we’re taking this victory home, got it?”

All the boys nod hurriedly, and the coach leaves them to do what they need to before the last period starts, but Gojo doesn’t let them get far.

“Whatever fucking happens, I'm getting that last score, got it?”

Everyone on the team exchanges uneasy glances, and Geto rolls his eyes and sighs before apologizing for Gojo.

“He just has a plan and wants to do something, guys.”

The boys nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

“If you guys mess this up for me, I swear to god, I will make you wish you were never born,” Gojo says with his usual smile, but in this case, all his smile does is make him seem feral.

Geto slaps Gojo across the back of his head and huffs, “He doesn’t mean that, don't worry.”

“Oh, I fucking mean it.”

“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”

Before anyone else can say anything, the timer goes off, and into the last minutes of the game they go. As the game goes on, everyone is on the edge of their seat, even if deep down they know who will win. You and Utahime are no exception to this, but apparently Shoko is.

“Why the fuck are you guys on the edge of your seats? It's obvious we’re gonna win.”

You go to glare at her but can’t even hold your stare long enough because you're so enthralled by the game. “Still, it's so nervewracking!”

Utahime laughs. “I'm only on the edge of my seat because I want the other team to win.”

“Why are you such a hater, dude?” you ask defensively.

Utahime doesn’t mind; she knows all too well about your little crush on Gojo, so she doesn’t take offense to your tone. “When it comes to Gojo, I'm always a hater.”

You finally find it in you to glare at her. “I hope Shoko breaks up with you.”

She rolls her eyes and glares back. “Oh, haha, you're so mature.”

You say nothing but stick your tongue out at her childishly, and she does the same, to which Shoko groans and rolls her eyes before grabbing both of your heads and turning them to face the game.

“You can fight after the game; there's only a few seconds left.”

Gojo glances at the time and realizes it’s now or never. He finds that Geto has the ball and calls out for him. Geto, on the other hand, hesitates to pass him the ball, with a look on his face asking if he really wants to do this, and Gojo can only nod. How could he not want to do this? This is the only thing he can do; it's not like he knows how to ask someone out the normal way, so this will do; it has to. Gojo tries to control his breathing as he makes his way to the hoop, the ball dribbling in tune with his heartbeat, and nothing matters to him in that moment except you and scoring—his surroundings completely drowning out. Everyone holds their breath waiting for him to shoot, and right before he does, his eyes lock onto yours.

“This is for you, Y/N!” He yells out as he shoots, and…

And he misses.

Horribly.

And there's no chance for him to redeem himself because the minute the ball hits the ground, the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, and everyone seemingly ignores whatever the fuck he just did and erupts into an uproar at the fact that they won regardless of Gojo’s miss.

“What-“

Shoko slaps a hand over her mouth, attempting and failing to hold in her laughter. “Did he just fucking miss?”

Utahime is hunched over, her head between her knees, laughing. “Oh my fucking god, he's an idiot!”

You blink, not moving, not saying anything, but with how hard Shoko is laughing and Utahime leaning against her as she laughs as well, Shoko ends up bumping into you, and she instantly grows quiet, her head snapping toward you.

“Oh, why are you still here?”

“Huh?”

"Why aren’t you down there?” she asks, pointing down to the court.

“Am… Am I supposed to be?”

“Uh duh!” Utahime speaks up, peeking out from behind Shoko. “He made that shot for you! Well, he missed that shot for you.”

“Oh,” you say blankly. “Oh. Oh shit.”

You stood up abruptly, and with how fast you went down the bleachers, you almost tripped once you made it onto the ground. You quickly catch yourself, and the moment you look up to find Gojo, he’s already standing right in front of you.

“You're-you're wearing my jersey,” he says breathlessly, but not in a I-can’t-breathe way, more in a holy-shit-my-crush-is-actually-wearing-my-jersey way.

You swallow thickly and nod. Your gaze flickers down to the jersey before going back to his face. “I am.”

“You are.”

“What was that Gojo?”

He seems to grimace at your question. “Ah, well, you see, I was actually gonna say if I make this, you owe me a date, but that’s a really long sentence to shout, and what if I didn’t make it? That would’ve been so embarrassing.”

You laugh under your breath. “Gojo, you didn’t make it regardless.”

He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”

You smile and push a strand of hair stuck to his forehead out of the way, watching how he blushes furiously at your touch, and it makes your heart swoon. Who knew the confident number-one basketball player could crumble so readily under your touch?

“You know, I’m still more than happy to owe you a date.”

He smirks as he pulls you closer toward him by your waist and coos, “Yeah?"

“Yeah… But get the hell off of me, Gojo; you’re sweaty and you stink,” you grumble as you push against his chest, trying to free yourself.

Gojo ignores you and pulls you in closer (if even possible), his body engulfing yours as he rubs his face against yours, making sure his sweat rubs off on you too.

You struggle against his hold. “Gojo gross!”

“Sorry, I can't hear you over the people. What are you saying? Hug you closer?”

“Gojo, don’t you dare.”

You hear him chuckle before rubbing up against you again, and you groan but stop resisting, which he hums happily at before starting to pull away. You watch how his face abruptly twists into feigned disgust.

"Ew, Y/N, get the hell off of me; you’re sweaty and you stink,” he mocks as he pushes you out of his hold.

“I hate you.”

“If you hated me, you wouldn’t be going on a date with me,” he singsongily says.

“Yeah, not anymore,” you mumble with a wry smile as you start walking away.

“Hey, wait, Y/N, come back!”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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redflagshipwriter · 3 months

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Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming

#dp x dc #red check yes #dead on main

796 notes · View notes

cactuscoolerr · 10 months

Note

OKAY BUT LIKE LOSER ISAGI, NAGI, BACHIRA AND POPULAR READER SNEAKING AROUND TO FUCK CAUSE THEY DONT WANNA RUIN THEIR REP?!?!

im sorry i got a lil excited

⋆｡˚. in secret - itoshi rin, bachira meguru, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro

• (nsfw)

• notes: my brain is buzzing i totally luv this concept a normal amount !! ɷ◡ɷ | also i’m adding rin cuz he’s my fav and i don’t wanna leave him out ╥﹏╥

. ˚ ｡⋆ itoshi rin

you had been avoiding rin’s subtle glances as he sat a few tables away from you. your friends had invited you to come to the library with them to study for finals, but you found it hard to focus once you saw rin and his friend group.

“you see that guy over there..?” one of your friends nudged your arms and not so subtly pointed at bachira meguru, one of rins friends. you nodded after stealing a glance at the boy with bangs before looking back down at your book. “he’s in my french class and he was talking about some imaginary friend he had. he’s such a freak”

some of your friends laughed upon hearing, the others telling them to shut up, having been deep into their study session.

you hadn’t met bachira, never having met any of rin’s friends, but he seemed like a nice guy. you didn’t have any issues with him ever since you found yourself interested in rin.

“heard that the white haired one is a gamer,” another one of your friends scoffed. “are they all nerds?”

“maybe they all became friends because no one else wanted to” your closest friend in the group snorted, causing the rest of the group to laugh. you could almost roll your eyes at how obnoxious they sounded but ignored them instead. that was until they had started mentioning rin.

you missed the way they all began looking at him, making it obvious. “i wonder how he’s not popular. with a brother like sae, you’d think he wouldn’t be such a loser”

at the mention of sae, your ears perked up and you looked towards rin like the rest of your friends. “he’s such a creep. he never talks and he just sucks around like some kind of weirdo”

“i even heard that he-” your friend stopped talking when you abruptly stood up with a book in your hand, not wanting to listen any longer. they all gave you questioning looks, making you clear your throat awkwardly. “uh.. i grabbed the wrong book”

it was quiet for a few seconds before one of your friends laughed. “and you just realized now?” she asked and you laughed softly. “yeah.. kind of embarrassing but i’m gonna go get the other one”

without having to hear what any of the others had to say, you quickly walking towards the rows of book shelves to look through random books and occupy yourself for a bit. or at least until they stopped talking badly about rin and his friend group.

“finally have enough of their shit talking?” you heard rin’s voice scoff from behind you. his tone sent a shiver down your spine but you turned around anyway. “did you hear..?”

rin nodded and you sighed, immediately going to apologize but he stopped you. “i don’t wanna hear you apologize because you didn’t say anything” he muttered and looked down at you with an intimidating gaze. “you can’t control what they say, right?”

you shook your head slowly but he still scoffed, likely wanting a different answer from you, though you didn’t know what. “decided i can’t come over tonight” rin looked away from you and slightly backed up.

“why not?” your eyebrows furrowed, slightly stepping forward to keep the close distance between you and your secret lover.

rin shrugged, “i don’t really like the idea of sneaking around with someone that has friends that talk bad about me” he muttered, looking back at you. “sounds weird, does it not?”

“no..” you said quietly, “it does sound weird. i’m sorry..”

your saddened gaze made rin’s heart race, finding the crease in your eyebrows and look of distress adorable. with a sigh, rin closed the distance and leaned down to kiss at your neck. a low moan fell passed your lips, making rin suck at your skin, lightly grazing his teeth to feel your squirm until he was satisfied.

with a lidded gaze, he looked down at you and admired the new mark on your neck. “maybe i will come over after all..” rin sighed and backed away again before leaving you to stand there alone.

it didn’t take very long for you to realize what rin did, frantically rubbing at the mark and wondering how you were gonna explain the hickey to your friends when you went back to the table.

. ˚ ｡⋆ bachira meguru

pushing you into the janitors closet, bachira was quick to push your shorts down while connecting his lips to your neck. your moans only fueled him to go faster as he pushed your panties to the side and shoved his fingers into your slick cunt. “feels like you’re all ready for my cock, hm?”

he grinned while pushing his pants and boxers down, making it quick like you two always had to. the both of you were used to it by now, quickies in the school building before going back to either of your dorms and fucking to your hearts content.

bachira understood good and well why you had to do it this way, and he didn’t mind it. it’s not like being an outcast was anything new to him, so he didn’t care as long as he could have your cunt sucking his cock in by the end of the day. if it was for you, he’d live the rest of his life unliked by everyone.

you whined sweetly into his mouth as he sunk in, groaning and making just as much noise as you were. the feeling of your cunt was unlike anything bachira had felt before. he could die like this.

“meguru..” you panted and grasped onto him tightly as your legs began to give out. “i got you..” bachira smiled softly and gripped your thighs, hoisting you up so you didn’t have to do anything but look pretty for him.

with the new position, bachira bounced you up and down on his cock with ease, slightly being able to thrust up into you, earning louder noises from you.

you held his face gently in your hands and desperately leaned down to kiss him, wanting to feel all of him and needing for him to feel all of the love you felt for him. you never wanted for your relationship to be like this, but you valued your school life too much. though, bachira was beginning to crack that as you began to think about what it would be like to happily walk through the school halls with bachira’s hand in your own, not caring about the judging glanced sent your way.

the thought of being able to be with bachira, free of judgment made you clench around his cock, making him break the kiss to whine into the crook of your neck.

“i’m so close..” he whimpered against your skin and you gently carded your fingers through his hair. “m-me too..” you said through a shaky exhale before suddenly cumming at the particularly hard slam of bachira’s hips against your ass.

the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock was too much, making him moan and cum instantly inside of your tightening cunt and his hips unwillingly buck upwards.

the hard breathing from you and bachira filled the room as you felt sticky in his arms. but with the way bachira gently pressed his forehead against yours with a happy grin, you didn’t mind it very much as long as you got to be like this with him and him only.

. ˚ ｡⋆ isagi yoichi

isagi wasn’t entirely sure on why you invited him to your roommates party. the only person that he knew would be you and even then, you wouldn’t talk to him since you two weren’t necessarily friends.

it had been nearly an hour since isagi sat on a lone couch, gaining looks from people he didn’t know and people that likely didn’t know him. you had even walked by, just slightly glancing at him before running upstairs.

just when he was beginning to think coming was a bad idea, he got a text from you.

come upstairs. room at end of the hall he read to himself, already feeling his cock twitching in his pants. excitedly, he made his way up the stairs, searching for the room at the end of the hall that you told him to go to. the door was closed and he opened it to reveal you sitting on the bed, gently kicking your legs as you waited patiently for isagi to come find you.

upon seeing him, you immediately pounded on him, craving his taste from the make out session the two of you had in an empty classroom during classes just a few hours before.

“you’re drunk” isagi whispered against your lips, making you laugh softly. “had one drink to stop myself from riding you on that couch you were sitting on..” you gasped when isagi picked you up, his hands on your ass, and led you towards the bed.

immediately, isagi began trailing kisses down your neck, gently pulling down the straps of your dress before pulling it off of you and kissing down the rest of your body. “gonna make you feel so fucking good..” he breathed against your skin and leaned down, licking a stripe against your clothed cunt.

you shivered from the connection, and threw your head back with a quiet moan. isagi gently pulled your panties down and wasted no time in eating you out.

he was quick with his movements, bringing his fingers to sink into your cunt while he made out with your clit. it was sloppy and gross but you loved the way he made you feel. with the way he quickly fingered you and sucked your clit into his mouth, it wasn’t long until you could feel your oncoming orgasm.

“you like that?” isagi breathed out against your cunt, slightly pulling away to talk. “missed the way you tasted on my tongue..”

isagi felt you tighten around his fingers, groaning softly at the thought of you cumming on his face. “go on and cum for me, sweetie” he whispered and lapped quickly at your cunt, still fingering you until he felt you squirt against his face.

gladly opening his mouth, isagi drank your fluids, moaning at the taste while rutting against the bed like some kind of dog. it was enough to bring himself to his own release, leaving the both of you sweaty and moaning for more.

. ˚ ｡⋆ nagi seishiro

nagi was never fond of the idea of hiding how much he liked you. you said he has to pretend that he has no interest in you? that seemed like even more of a hassle to nagi than being totally infatuated with you, because he was.

having to make excuses to leave class after you did was a hassle, especially with the wondering gazes on him as he left.

but it was all worth it when he cornered you in an empty bathroom, towering over you with a dark gaze in his eyes. “don’t really like having to chase after you, pretty” he muttered, bringing his hand up to twirl your hair around his finger. with a sigh, he let his arm drop and looked at you for what you had to say.

“try not to think of it as chasing after me,” you smiled flirtatiously. “you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, nagi..”

he shivered at the tone of your voice, slightly glaring down at you with that usual pouty expression whenever you called him that. “i said you could call me by my first name, didn’t i?” he frowned, making you laugh softly. “you did, sei. i just love teasing you. you know that”

with another heavy sigh, nagi leaned down to kiss you like he’s been wanting to since you left his dorm this morning. he had been craving how your lips felt against his, your tongue gliding against his, and even more how your sweet cunt felt wrapped nicely around his cock.

he almost whimpered at the first touch of your hand against his hardening length. he almost couldn’t resist pushing you down to your knees and having you suck him off, looking up at him with that delicious gaze you always sent him.

“why do we have to do this here” nagi sighed while pulling back. “it’s such a hassle having to wait all day for you. it’s not fair..”

you leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “you know why,” a frustrated groan fell passed your lips, not liking the idea of explaining to nagi for the millionth time. “i like you, sei, but i also like my reputation, my friends. if they knew i was messing around with you, i don’t even know what they’d say”

“i don’t think you having mikage reo as a friend would help me out very much. you know what people think about you, right?”

despite hearing it all the time, hearing that most people didn’t like him from you made him wish that his social status was different. he never cared about it very much but if it meant that he couldn’t publicly be with you, nagi wanted for there to be a change.

“this sucks.” he muttered and leaned down to rest his head against your shoulder. “jus’ wanna be with you, pretty”

“i know,” you said softly and ran your fingers through his hair. “but hey..” nagi looked up at you and you laughed at the pout he had on his face. “you’re friends with that itoshi sae’s brother, right?”

you watched as nagi nodded before shrugging. “kinda.. we’re on the same team”

with a low hum, you nodded and gently caressed his face. “the itoshi’s aren’t necessarily outcasts here, ya know.. if you’re friends with rin, then it’s not too big of a stretch to say that you could build your relations with people”

you swiped nagi’s bangs from off of his forehead as he stared at the wall behind you. he hadn’t really been listening to what you were saying, spacing off from the feeling of your warm hand against his skin. “sei..?” you pushed his face gently so his gaze was on you again, finally snapping nagi out of his trance.

“let’s talk about this later,” he sighed, looking down at you with that darkened gaze again before flipping up your skirt and sliding his hand into the front of your panties. a soft gasp sounded from you as nagi sunk his fingers into your slick, using it to ease his fingers into your cunt without any problems. “just wanna feel you for now, pretty”

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk headcanons #bllk smut #blue lock smut #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin smut #isagi yoichi smut #bachira meguru smut #nagi seishiro smut #isagi yoichi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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dulcewrites · 6 months

Note

ewan in the saltburn trailer is j sooo giving private school filthy rich aemond i love it

AND YES HE NEEDS HIS POC GF

I have been feeling…. less than inspired lately about hotd tbh but hopefully this will spark something. I know no one asked for this lol. This was inspired by Beyoncé’s Upgrade U. Honestly, I don't think Aemond would be much of a loser in a modern setting. He would be far too elusive and people would find him interesting simply based on that. But I am combining/changing some lore here so he is a #loser in this like I am assuming Ewan's character is Saltburn is.

Upgrade You

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x rich!reader (wc: 2k)

Summary: You have always enjoyed having a project to build or fix up and Aemond Targaryen is no different

You flick a spoolie brush over your brows as you finished up your makeup. The lights from your vanity mirror illuminating you as you put the last touches on your face.

"I don't get it," Melanie sighed as she hugged one of your pillows to her chest. She sat crossed legged on your California king bed. "You're like the smartest person I know. Why do you need to be tutored?"

"Everyone can improve themselves, no matter what someone's specialty may be. Remember that."

Melanie nodded enthusiastically. Sweet girl, you think. A little daft at times but nothing some time under your guidance cannot fix.

She tilts her head curiously. "You are pretty dressed up for a library meeting too."

"Another lesson," you fluff your curls then turn from the mirror to her. "Do not let anyone tell you that you are overdressed. Does the library have a dress code?"

Melanie shakes her head slowly.

"So, who is going to tell me to change?"

"... No one?"

"Exactly."

Melanie chews on her lip in thought as if she is taking mental notes in her head. Though she is not wrong you are quite dressed up just to be studying. But your advice was also not wrong; any moment to be noticed should be taken and made the most of. If are to come into contact with any of your peers, why not make the best impression possible. You also do not have in it in you to tell your new pupil about the real reason as to why you were making this little trip. Best move through life with your cards close to your chest as your mother tells you. You can only imagine how wide Melanie's hazel eyes would get if you told her what you had up your sleeve.

Much like how you help the girls around you cultivate their futures, you must look out for your own as well. Your phone dings, and you smile when you check the notification.

Aemond Targaryen.

Archaic, some would say. Sending the feminist movement back 50 years, many could argue. Being realistic is more how you would put it. You have money, sure. Your parents have afforded you all the opportunities they wanted you to have, and for that you are grateful. But you are not naive; this is still very much a man's world. No matter how much money you have, there will be people who will look at you and hate you for having the gall to want more. For having ideas and wanting to express them. For looking the way, you do - for using the way you look against them.

You may not be able to have a seat at the table... but you can have someone build another for you.

Your family may have resources and money. But they do not have 'my father can use company family buy his way into politics; my mom has ancestry that traces back to French royalty' reach.

Luckily for you, there is someone who does have that access.

A little rough around the edges, but nothing some TLC cannot fix. It was one of your best traits: finding the diamonds in the rough and polishing them off so they shine brighter than before.

You go over to your closet and open the double doors. As your eyes search over the different handbags, you call out back to Melanie.

"Watercolor Dior saddle or creme Bottega Jodie?"

"Dior," she calls back.

You check yourself in the mirror before existing the closet.

"Well," you twirl for Melanie. You run hand over your midi turtleneck dress. You knee length boots clanked around as you moved in a circle.

"Perfect," she beams.

She sees you out to your car. With the window rolled down, she waves you off like a mother seeing their child off for kindergarten.

"Happy studying!"

Sweet and simple, just how you like em.

��——

You always thought the best thing about Oxford was how it looked in the fall. The leaves begun to change, sprite green to a blend of red, orange, purple, and brown. Made the most picturesque background. But it seemed like how gently the leaves fell from the trees was the only thing that was coming easily.

Maybe it was naivety on your part, but you thought when you showed up in four-inch patent leather Aquazzura heels and literally no books, Aemond would have got the hint. And yet, here you were talking about the components of stockholder’s equity, as if you cared.

"So," you interrupt him mid rant. "Any fun plans for Winter break? I know it is a while away, but everyone is already taking about what they are doing."

He wrinkles his nose, his glasses being pushes up in the process. "Probably just dinner with the family."

Right. The compound. At least that is what the Targaryen main home looks like. You of course needed to your research.

"Well, there is this crazy Christmas that happens before everyone leaves," you shuffle closer to him, and you hope he gets a whiff of your perfume. "Maybe we can go together?"

Aemond snorts and looks down bit sheepishly. "Highly doubt, I am invited."

You fight the urge to sigh wistfully. Cute, smart, wealthy as fuck... and apparently awfully insecure. Everyone throwing the party should be falling at their knees to have him around. But you have since understood during your time at Oxford that many students here do not understand the opportunities in front of them.

If Aemond had any real confidence, he'd say fuck it because he could buy everyone going if he wanted to. They ignore him because he allows them to. And then you realize he is one of those people; the delusional 'I want to get by on my merit not my name' kind of people.

Oh sweet, silly boy.

"That doesn't matter," you wave him off. "Besides, if anyone says anything, you can just say you're with me. Consider it a thank you for doing this for me."

You let your hand slip on his thigh and squeeze slightly.

"Better yet, let's call it a date."

Rhaenyra would think for the amount of money her family has; they would be able to afford stronger liquor. But she has a feeling that it has nothing to do with money, and more about the 'champagne only' rule Alicent liked.

The expansive backyard was decorated impeccably, as it always is for the annual holiday party that they throw. Twinkly lights in the trees, red and green everywhere, and even a frankly nouveau riche ice sculpture. The affair was black tie, and Rhaenyra could feel the eyes of some guess when she showed up in a red fitted suit. Taking small sips from her glass, she looks around the area. She swears the more years go on, the less she recognizes who is invited to things like this.

"Don't tell me step-mommy has put you in timeout."

She rolls her eyes when she hears a familiar voice. Daemon comes to stand next to her, with a small glass in his hand.

"No, you fucker," Rhaenyra then frowns. "Where did you get the scotch?"

"Why do you think I am in timeout?"

Her uncle always found a way around the rules. Rhaenyra blows air out of her cheeks in annoyance. She looks down at her watch; another rule is that they were required to stay at 2 hours. Only 45 minutes has passed since she arrived.

"Heard you are going to the company retreat this year," Daemon downs the rest of the drink and winces at the burning.

"Someone has to represent the family with dad," she shrugs, a small amount of smugness seeping into her tone. "He asked me to go."

"Hmmm," Daemon smirks at her smugness. "You and Aemond."

Rhaenyra blinks confused. "What?"

"Yup," he leans against the wall. "I suppose Viserys found a new muse."

Rhaenyra snorts at his words but then licks her lips nervously. It sounds cruel to think, but it was never something she ever really worried about - her father preferring her siblings over her. At least not something she worried about in her adulthood. Sure, as a girl, newly off the passing of her mother, seeing her father marry a woman only six years her senior rattled her. Aegon being born shortly after only made things more tense. But, and to his own detriment really, Viserys had made sure she came first.

"I did not know Aemond had an interest in the company in the first place."

"He didn't," Daemon's mouth pinches a little. "Not until... recently."

Rhaenyra follows her uncle's gaze out to where Aemond was standing. He always managed to look more grow up than his sibling, more than Helaena and Aegon. A mimicry that Rhaenyra thinks he picked up from his mother, but something seemed different now.

New haircut, no glasses, new suit. Armani? No, Tom Ford. With a Cartier tie clip and sparking cuff links to match. He is surrounded by some of the lawyers that work at the company.

"Looks like university has done him well," Rhaenyra tries to sound as even keeled as possible. "Good for him."

"No," Daemon sounds bored with her strained pleasantries. "That is what pussy does someone who has never got any before."

Rhaenyra blanches. The last thing she wants to think about is her younger brother having sex. She sets her champagne down in disgust.

"Don't be gross."

Daemon huffs before directing his attention towards the other side of the courtyard. His eyes zero in on Alicent, who tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder as she laughs with a young woman. A pretty young woman.

"Only met this semester and managed to get a holiday party invite, and a seat next to mother dearest. She must some charmer."

"You know," Rhaenyra starts. "Not every woman that is around this family is some sort of ruthless social climber."

"Of course, not every woman. Only the smart ones."

She sighs. That was not just pointed at the girl, but at Alicent too. Even though Alicent grew up with an even cushier life than they did. A type of old money that even the Targaryens had to give credence to. Strangely enough, Daemon seemed to take Viserys remarrying worse than Rhaenyra did. Even Rhaenyra over the years has grown to accept the fate that is their blended family. Accepted it enough to be cordial, albeit sometimes still awkward, with Alicent. They have forever been bonded in having to deal with the moods that come with Viserys Targaryen. But Daemon... it seems like he has never forgiven his brother for the act of moving on. He seemed to only grow more jaded since the divorce from Laena.

"How do you even know this?"

"Aemond told Aegon who told Helaena who told Rhaena who told Baela who told me."

Rhaenyra breaks her gaze from the two women. "Keeping tabs on your nephew that you barely speak to?"

Daemon gave her an empty smile. Almost a little cruel like he would crush her like a bug if it would not so pitiful. "You naive little thing. When you figure things out, let me know."

Rhaenyra wants to ask him what he means by that, but Daemon pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against to leave Rhaenyra alone.

Alone was a feeling she was used to. Rhaenyra often found solace in the loneliness that she found herself stuck in. If she did not find comfort in it, it would swallow her whole. Jaw unhinged and bloodthirsty.

Her eyes went back to the where Alicent and the girl were sitting, but Helaena seemed to replace the girl's place to speak with her mother. Instead of getting chummy with Alicent, the mystery woman had gone over to Aemond. Rhaenyra felt a little queasy watching them. Like watching two little dolls or those silly little cake toppers people get. Picture perfect like the stock photos that came in picture frames.

She shook her head at herself with an internal laugh. Here she was picking apart her baby brother's seemingly first real relationship; she was no better than Daemon if she did that. It was she told herself when she watched one of the wives of the company's lawyers come up to the girl and give her kiss on the cheek. Like they were old family friends.

Rhaenyra suddenly finds herself straightening out her jacket and her heels moving across the outdoor area. Might as well introduce herself... as a kind sister figure, of course.

She has a funny feeling she will be seeing this girl around more often.

#a reader fic? yeah I know lol #this is short but I got this idea #aemond getting the pretty woman treatment lmaoooo #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fic #hotd angst #black!reader

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Text

Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia

Word Count: 1,3k

Warnings: blood mentioned all the time, (y/n) is me, please note that blood phobia feels different for everyone and I wrote it from my own experience, still sick so there might be some spelling errors

Your ears start to ring violently, ice cold sweat coating your forehead while your heart hammers against your chest.

“You know this is just a minor cut, right?”, Choso questions dryly.

Why the hell are you acting up like that? He thought you’re a jujutsu sorcerer and given your attacks from earlier, a pretty good one. While he killed some of these stupid humans, his powers brushed over your skin ever so slightly, leaving you with a small cut on your hand. Nothing serious at all, could be easily fixed by a plaster.

But why are you standing there, staring down at your hand and the tiny trail of blood that runs down and look like you’ll faint every minute with your face going pale like snow?

“I can’t see blood”, you breathe out.

Calm down, it’s just a scratch, get a hold of yourself, this is ridiculous. You begin to walk in circles, desperately try to calm your breathing, to stop your ears from ringing and your guts from twisting.

“I need to lay down.”

Your body almost collapses onto the floor while you stretch your legs in the air, hands covering your sweaty forehead.

In the meantime, all Choso can do is stare at you. Is this a joke?

“You know that you’re a jujutsu sorcerer, right? How is it even possible that you have blood phobia? Also, that’s nothing but a little cut. Get a hold of yourself, woman.”

“Shut up, loser. You have no idea how this feels.”

“I’m here to kill you, you’re aware of that right?”

Why the hell are you scared of this tiny amount of blood anyway? When he cut off the heads of these humans, you didn’t bother at all. Are you just trying to distract him from his mission? Why does he hesitate instead of killing you right on the spot? A really easy task when all you do is lay on the floor while holding your head with your feet stretched out in the air.

“Right”, you mumble.

With trembling legs, you slowly lift yourself off the ground and get immediately greeted by the growing ringing in your ears. Fuck, how much you hate the feeling of fainting, how much you despise this spark of weakness. Why? Why can’t you just get a hold of yourself? Forget about that fucking blood, stand your ground.

“I…I won’t give up…”, you mutter.

Your vision slowly but surely gets foggy, you can’t focus on his admittedly gorgeous face anymore.

“I-I think I’m fainting…”

Just before your body crashes to the ground, Choso catches you in his arms. Your eyes are shut, the tension of your frame is completely gone. You are indeed unconscious. All he can do is stare at you in disbelief, how you are peacefully laying in his arms in the middle of a battlefield. All of this over one stupid droplet of blood. All of this while you could potentially die.

“Idiot”, he hisses.

What should he do now? It seems like your little friends rely on your abilities, nobody’s here to save you. It would be way too easy to just cut your throat and leave. One problem less, one jujutsu sorcerer more who pays for the death of his brothers.

But…you look so peaceful, it is so mesmerizing to watch you. Choso signs and rolls him eyes at himself. The others would kill you right on the spot if they were him. Maybe he should drag you to Mahito and the others, forget about your presence and carry on.

You sign heavy, your forehead dripping in ice cold sweat. Even though he despises every little thing about humans, you look…

Lovely.

“I’ll regret this”, he mutters to himself before turning on his heels and sprinting away, your unconscious body laying safely in his arms. Away from the crowds, away from the curses into an abandoned building.

Softly, he places your frame on the stony ground, your limbs not moving an inch. What the hell is he supposed to do, now? He’s never had to deal with someone who can’t see blood. What feels like, what did you do earlier?

Choso reluctantly grabs your ankles and lifts your legs in the air. Yeah, this makes sense. Like that, your blood flows back into your empty brain. How long does it take until your back? Minutes, hours? Damn, he has no fucking idea. He’s just able to stand there awkwardly, holding your ankles while eyeing you up and down.

Oh, how much he hates to admit how mesmerized he is by the way your hair falls and your so effortlessly striking facial features. It almost feels as if he’s betraying his brothers to stand here, saving your puny life from certain death. But there’s just something about you, something that seems so different from the rest, something that tells him over and over to protect you. Despite your striking powers, you looked so damn innocent.

“Where am I?”

“Finally, I thought you were death”, Choso comments dryly.

Suddenly your eyes are wide open as you look around frantically, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

“I fainted, didn’t I?”, you stammer.

“Yes.”

Your eyes dart towards him and for a brief moment, his world stops spinning. It seems so easy to get lost in your striking orbs that are filled with nothing but innocence and surprise.

“Did you bring me here? Where are we?”

“I don’t know.”

Your hands roam over your body hectically. Did he chop your arm off, cut you open, is anything missing?

No.

You are completely fine.

“You didn’t kill me”, you state.

“Obviously, idiot”, he remarks.

“Why?”

Your unanswered question hangs in the thick air between both of you while you stare at him in disbelief. It would have been so easy for him to kill you. Just a few minutes ago, you were fighting each other, after all you are on opposite sides. So why? Why did he decide to safe you instead?

Your train of thoughts gets violently interrupted by the way your guts turn and your head starts spinning all over again.

“Urgh, I need to lay down”, you moan.

This will definitely leave you feeling like shit for the rest of the day or at least until you took a good nap.

“Aren’t you scared of me?”

“Why would I? You had the chance to kill me this whole time and decided not to. And not like the rest of these fuckers, I actually get the impression that you are a pretty decent person.”

“I’m not a person. I’m a reincarnated curse”, he hisses.

“You seem pretty human to me”, you hush.

Choso’s heartbeat picks up in an instant by your words that are so unknown to him. He was never more than a monster, a frightful creature or a curse to exorcise to anyone else. And while you’re still not looking completely well yet, you would be able to attack him if you wanted.

“Don’t compare me to your species. You just fainted because of a small cut. What is wrong with you? When I cut these heads, you didn’t even flinch.”

“That’s something completely different! I only feel that way with needles and small amounts of blood”, you clarify.

“Whatever, you gave a pretty weak performance. You should really work on that.”

“I know, I really try. Hey, maybe you can help me with that!”

“Don’t get ideas, woman. Be glad I saved you. I should get going anywhere and you…just get lost”, re instructs you with emotionless voice.

Within the blink of an eye he’s gone, leaving you speechless and mesmerized by your encounter.

Choso was is name, right? For being a reincarnated curse, he seems like a nice man. Maybe you should keep your eyes open for him.

And you should definitely work on your blood phobia.

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sebscore · 1 year

Note

hi ! I love your gen z driver series so much !!

i have a request that she and zhou show up to the padock in the same outfit unplanned

like i feel this would happen - they both fancy showing up in something so different and the other would be wearing the same thing !! <3 fashion icons think the same 😌

THE HELMET BET

pairings: zhou guanyu x driver!reader / f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: swearing. based on the 2022 grid. mention of sexism and racism. joke about doing an orgy.

author's note: idk if this is what you had in mind, but I had already written a small part of this fic and then your ask came in and I couldn't help myself. I love zhou so much, ugh thats my man fr. also, thank you for loving the series, it means a lot to me 💞

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''We're gonna get in trouble.'' Zhou said, shaking his head.

Y/N frowned at his words. ''Why would we get in trouble? It's always super boring and our bet can at least spice it up a little.'' She reasoned, using a lot of hand gestures to show how serious she was.

''You know those meetings are about our safety, right? We should take them serious.'' The Chinese driver didn't want to get in hot water with the stewards.

''But this is a serious matter! We're putting an end to the debate,'' she retorted back, not seeing the harm in using the upcoming driver's briefing for their bet, ''lately, I've been seeing way too many people saying you've got better style than me and I've had enough of it.''

The female driver had seen the countless online discussions between fans regarding the most stylish driver on the grid, the winner usually switching between herself, Lewis and Zhou. In her opinion, Lewis had the best style, she didn't need to think twice about it. But it is important for her to know who his successor is, who is the number 2?

To answer that question, she had come up with a brilliant idea: her and Zhou wear their best outfit to the next driver's briefing, not some team merchandising, and they get the other drivers to vote on which outfit is the best and therefore, which person has the best style. The person with the most votes gets to design a helmet for the loser and they have to wear it at the next racing weekend.

''Okay, I'm in,'' Zhou admitted, shaking hands to commemorate the challenge, ''be prepared to lose, Y/N.''

''Don't worry about me, Guanyu.''

Y/N was confident in her win. The young woman knows she has style, her several brand deals with high-respected fashion houses being the proof of that. However, she knew not to underestimate her rookie friend, Zhou has had some killer outfits in the ongoing season.

They had known each other for some years, but it was only this year that the pair had gotten close. Y/N broke the ice by complimenting one of his outfits at the start of the season and the rest was history.

The outfit she had gone with was simple, but she looked good and she felt great in it. It was inspired by one of Michael Schumacher's paddock outfits (reference), knowing she would at least have Mick and Seb's vote with that one.

Y/N got out of her car, ready to make her way to the F1 paddock and straight to the driver's briefing. In the corner of her eye she noticed Zhou's car pull up, his performance coach waving at her through the window. She reciprocated the action and decided to wait for him, thinking it would be nice for the two of them to enter together. She was curious as to what her friend would be wearing, secretly hoping he had fumbled the bag really hard.

Her hopes came crashing down as Zhou got out of the car, observing the clothes he was wearing and noticing one clear detail.

They were wearing the same outfit.

Her eyes seemed ready to bulge out of her head, in complete disbelief. ''Are you fucking kidding me, Zhou?''

The Chinese man appeared to be much more amused by the situation, covering his laughter with his hand. ''You look very nice, Y/N.'' He giggled, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

''It's turned into a ''who wears it better'' challenge, what the heck.'' She commented, eyeing him up and down before glancing at her own fit.

Zhou chuckled. ''Well either way, I'm winning.'' A small smirk appeared on his face, still sure of his win over his friend. Y/N simply scoffed, grabbing her pass from her purse and walking to the entrance. Zhou and his coach followed her steps, still entertained by her annoyance.

As soon as the paddock reporters noticed the sight of the two drivers, their cameras were whipped out from their bags and they began taking candid shots of the pair. Zhou and Y/N played along for the cameras, pointing at each other's outfits and pretending to look annoyed.

Eventually they made it to the right room, already seeing most of the drivers waiting inside. Zhou went in and greeted the others, while Y/N waited outside, ready to lock the door as soon as everyone had arrived and was inside.

Lando had been the last one to walk down the hallway. ''Hurry up, Norris!'' She exclaimed, her hand motioning for him to pick up the pace.

''Why? I'm on time.'' He replied a bit agitated, it was a bit too early in the morning for him to be scolded by his friend.

Y/N didn't respond to him, simply pushing him into the room and locking the door, making several drivers look up from where they were sitting or standing.

''Y/N, what are you doing?'' Sebastian spoke up, curious as to what she was up to this time.

The young woman urged Zhou to get up from his seat and to stand next to her. The man felt a bit embarrassed, but followed her orders. Y/N stood in the place where their director normally sat when he answered the drivers' questions or listened to their concerns. She placed both her hands on the desk, looking like a teacher that was about to scold her students.

''As we all know, Mr. Hamilton over there is widely accepted as the driver with the best style,'' she pointed at Lewis, who nervously smiled as the other drivers glanced at him, ''but that's not why we are gathered here today! We are gathered here today to decide who his successor is. Who is the most stylish person after Lewis? That's a question that we will settle once and for all, here, now, in this room.'' She finished her monologue.

''Me and Mr. Guanyu found ourselves in a battle for the title of second most stylish driver of the grid, so I challenged him. We would wear our best outfits today and have our lovely colleagues vote for who had the best one. But as you all can see, me and Mr. Dior over here, are wearing the same exact fit.'' Y/N waved her hand between herself and Zhou.

''So, instead of you deciding who is wearing the best outfit, you'll be voting for the person you think is wearing the outfit best.'' She concluded.

The crowd had mixed reactions: some looked confused, some seemed entertained by what Y/N had told them and others appeared to not care.

Kevin was the first one to speak, getting up from his seat and walking towards the door. ''Y/N, this is not the time to do this, we're here to talk about the race.'' He was about to turn the lock when her voice stopped him.

''Magnussen, you're being a party pooper- do you want to be a party pooper?'' She looked at him sternly, trying to convince him to sit back down and go along with her antics. ''Don't pretend like you're not secretly enjoying this.'' The Haas driver rolled his eyes, but defeatedly put his arms up and went back to his seat.

''Alright, we'll go around the room and each person says either my name or Zhou's.'' She explained further, moving in front of the desk.

Checo's hand went up in the air. ''Can we also pass?'' He asked, looking at Y/N.

''If you refuse to choose, we will consider it sexist and racist as I am a woman and Zhou's Asian.'' She answered him, garnering chuckles around the room and a nervous-looking Zhou who hoped people took it as a joke, since he didn't want to be making enemies as a rookie.

Y/N clapped her hands together. ''Okay, we'll start with our party pooper, KMag! Me or Zhou?''

''Zhou, since he didn't yell at me and didn't call me a party pooper.'' He chose, making the female driver narrow her eyes at him. ''Alright, 1 for Zhou.''

The person sat next to Kevin was his teammate, Mick. ''Schumacher!'' He was about to speak, but the woman interrupted him. ''Before you choose, I took inspiration from one of your dad's outfits.'' Y/N tried influencing his decision.

''I was gonna choose you anyway.'' He told her, making her jump up as her and Zhou had an equal score. ''Thank you, Mickie.'' She smiled brightly at him.

''Valtteri?''

''I choose Zhou, I'm loyal to my teammate.'' He answered, smiling at the man in question.

''Lando?''

''Zhou, because he doesn't humiliate me in front of the entire internet.'' The McLaren driver said, referring to their regular back-and-forths on social media.

Y/N rolled her eyes. ''You're such a crybaby, Rumplestiltskin.'' Her words caused Lando to give her the middle finger, but it was all in good fun.

''Anyway, Daniel?''

The Australian pretended to think hard about his answer, looking in-between her and Zhou. ''I'm gonna go with Y/N, cause I'm kinda scared what she'll do to me if I don't choose her.'' His answer got a laugh out of the other drivers, some of them nodding their heads.

Y/N herself couldn't help but break a smile at Daniel's words, happy her friend had chosen her. ''Okay, next one.''

The voting was nearing its end and there was a tie, 9 people had chosen Zhou and 9 others had voted for Y/N. It all came down to one person.

Sir Lewis Hamilton.

Despite some of the drivers' dislike for the bet at the beginning of the meeting, everyone had gotten pretty invested. ''The maestro himself has to choose his next prodigy.'' Daniel joked, looking at the 7x world champion.

Lewis shifted in his seat, not too fond of having the last vote on the matter. ''Can't I just say both of you? The two of you look very good.''

''No, mate! You have to choose.'' George argued, the others agreeing with him.

Y/N was quite sure that Lewis would choose her. She was much closer to him than Zhou and the pair had talked about fashion before, discussing how it was a great way to express yourself. She was already designing Zhou's helmet in her mind.

''Well, then… I guess Zhou.''

Her mouth dropped open, shocked that the senior driver had chosen the rookie over her. She wasn't the only one that seemed surprised by his choice, Seb turned around in his seat and Pierre's eyes had widened, mouthing ''wow''.

The young man next to her, lightly slapped her arm. ''I'll send the design to your team next week, Y/N.'' He teasingly laughed, a big smirk present on his face.

''This is a joke, right? I can't be number 3!'' She dramatically stated.

''Hey! What's wrong with being the number 3?'' Daniel looked up, feigning being offended by her words.

She was about to give another monologue about betrayal and how men are all the same, but several loud knocks on the door interrupted that from happening. Y/N sighed, but took a few steps to turn the lock.

Their director didn't look too happy. ''Why was the door locked?''

''We were having an orgy.'' She sarcastically answered him, not planning on explaining to him why she had blocked the door from opening.

''Y/N!''

The actual driver's briefing began and soon enough most drivers were already dozing off, some of them even wishing Y/N and Zhou's bet had taken a bit longer. They wouldn't admit it to the young woman, but ever since she'd made her arrival to these briefings, her unserious antics had made them much more bearable. Some drivers had even started looking forward to the meetings, because the girl always had something up her sleeve.

As soon as the last issue was resolved, the meeting ended and everyone was out the door. When Zhou saw Y/N talking with Mick and Esteban, he swiftly moved next to Lewis. ''Hey, man,'' he patted the Brit's shoulder, ''thanks for that, I really appreciate it.''

''No problem,'' Lewis smiled, ''we made a deal, I'm keeping my word.''

Zhou nodded. ''Yeah, you vote for me and I let you help me design her helmet.'' He recalled the promise they had made a day earlier.

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #f1 female driver #female f1 driver #zhou guanyu x reader #zhou guanyu x oc #f1 grid x oc #f1 grid x reader

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angels-fantasy · 13 days

Note

Hii this is my first ever request so I'm so sorry if it's bad😭 But recently this has been like in the back of my head and I couldn't find any fics abt it. So basically it's Brothers best friend Bakugo... I'm low-key so embarrassed but I thought it would be cool for some angst 🤭 I love your works and I hope I'm not bothering, i hope you have a nice day!!

My Brother's Bestfriend Is The One For Me!

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details: umm little confessions at the end tee hee, nothing too crazy. reader gets in their head about some tingz, silly katsuki

Word Count: 1k

hello im sorry i replied a little late, thank you sm for your request this is an awesome idea :D i hope you have a nice day too <3 i tried my best at some angst 🥲 i hope i did your request justice! also plsss someone know what im referencing in the title lolol. its not exact but its close XD

ever since you were a kid, you had a crush on your older brother's best friend-katsuki bakugou-who was also older than you, but only by two years! so it wasn't that bad, really.

watching him grow up into the handsome man he is now was hard, especially when you were always seen as the annoying, younger sibling that just wanted to hang out with the older kids.

though something that was even harder was having to watch people throw themselves at your childhood crush, only to see them grow disappointed at his arrogant personality.

this frustrated you because you knew katsuki better than any of those losers did. you knew how to work around his rough edges, how to tell apart his real anger from his teasing words, and so many other things about him.

but if you knew him better than everyone else that was interested in him, why didn't he want you back? did he still only see you as his best friend's annoying, younger sibling? he couldn't have, right?

that exact thought lingered in your mind every time katsuki was around. there was no way you didn't have at least a small chance with him, especially considering the fact that he'd never had a serious relationship before. it wasn't that he couldn't get one, because he definitely could, but it was because he chose not to.

katsuki was ambitious, and he didn't want to let anything get in his way while he was training to become a pro-hero, and that included relationships. now maybe you were naive for this, but sometimes you really thought you were different in his eyes, and you would have a chance with him.

so here you were, sitting at the dining table in your parents house across from katsuki. your brother had invited him over, like he usually did. you forgot the reason why, all you knew was that your crush was coming over, so you were excited.

but now that you were sitting across from him, you couldn't help but squirm in your seat nervously under his gaze.

"what's up with you?" he asked, causing your family to turn their attention towards you.

your face burned. "er-nothing. i'm just tired... i didn't sleep well last night." you lied, making katsuki squint at you while your family shrugged off your excuse and went back to their conversation.

the rest of the dinner continued on, with you occasionally picking at your food and glancing up at katsuki, who had caught you looking multiple times.

once everyone was done eating, you immediately offered to wash the dishes, just trying to find any excuse to get away from your crush's intense gaze. since you were cleaning up and it was late at night, you could hear your parents go to their bedroom and your brother tell katsuki he'd be waiting in his.

as you were washing dishes you felt a presence behind you, and you knew exactly who it was.

"hey, buggy." he said, ruffling up your hair and making you groan in annoyance. 'buggy' was your childhood nickname, given to you by none other than katsuki, when he found you playing with a few bugs one day.

he hasn't let you live it down since.

"i don't even play with bugs anymore! i was like five, katsuki." you said, growling at a particular stain that wouldn't wash off very easily.

he crossed his arms, and leaned against the counter next to you, silently watching as you continued to wash the rest of the dishes.

when you were done with the last dish, you dried your hands and turned to him. "why are you here, stalking me? shouldn't you be hanging out with my brother or something?" you snarled, getting frustrated at his company. usually, you'd appreciate it, but these past few weeks he'd been oddly quiet around you - especially when you two were alone.

"maybe i just wanna hang out with you, buggy. is that a problem?"

you clenched your fists, feeling your frustration boil over. how could he act like he wasn't doing anything wrong? did he not realize that he'd been making you feel flustered and confused all the time?? these past few months he'd been behaving strangely around you, and you didn't know what to think of it.

"stop messing with me." you said in a serious tone, looking down at your feet. "you always confuse me with all the shit you say and i hate it! i don't know what to think anymore!"

a part of you felt bad for yelling at him like this, but you couldn't help yourself.

you glanced up at his face and saw his shocked expression, and you wondered what he was going to say next. probably something stupid.

he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his spiky hair, "'m not tryna confuse you... i just-ugh. you're actually not a shitty person to talk to." he confessed, reluctantly of course.

you shook your head at his words. "you don't have to lie, i know i'm probably more of a little sibling in your eyes anyway." you said, making your way around him to go upstairs to your bedroom until he stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

"you actually think that?" he sneered.

"well it's what you make me think!"

your words made him sigh and he put his hands on your shoulders. "shut up and listen okay? i'm not good at this crap, so just let me talk." he demanded, making you pout, but nod in agreement.

"i like your dumbass and i just don't know any other way to tell you..." he said quietly with bright red ears. you just continued to stare at him, not believing his words, which scared him.

he shook your shoulders slightly, "say something dammit!"

"sorry! i...i just don't know what to say." you said, bring your hands up to your shoulders to grab his and hold them in your own. "but, i like you too. i have liked you for a long time."

after hearing yourself admit you like him out loud, you let go of his hands and brought them to your face to cover your burning cheeks.

he laughed his loud cackle and brought you in for a bear hug, "no way, little buggy actually likes me?" he teased, "i always thought you were scared or somethin'."

"well, i was scared sometimes..." you mumbled.

the two of you continued to embrace each other for a while, silently, until katsuki spoke up. "y'know you're mine now, right buggy?"

your heart fluttered, "only if you're mine too."

"obviously."

authors note

i lowkey got lazy in the end im sorry if you can tell 😔 but i hope you enjoyed !

taglist for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #writers on tumblr #anime #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou x you

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beepboopkek · 4 months

Text

— Strip Starchess Part 2 (F!Reader)

Including: Jing Yuan x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !! , afab!reader, pwp but barely, Jing Yuan is a little bastard (affectionate), stripping (who would've guessed), possible grammatical errors(I tried), Jing Yuan calls you pet names (dear), no use of y/n, kind of . left at a cliffhanger, pu$$y eating, 0rga$m denial (only one time), edging, possessive jing yuan, he goes a little feral, safe sane and consensual w/c: 2.2k a/n: hello I'm back with my jing yuan word vomit I hope u guys like this... i forgot anon's name but they gave me the idea so I went with it but after some time it was getting too much so I'm jus leaving it at this.. don't need to make full-fledged smut drabbles anyway :D thank u anon u a real one fr fr also amab version is also posted !!!!! hope u guys like this :3

The conditions for this game of Strip Starchess were different.

Way too different.

You had established a few rules between the both of you, the main one being that— accessories or anything removable on your or the general’s body were officially counted as an article of clothing and,

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

Jing Yuan's smug suggestion, much to your annoyance.

Yet, you reluctantly ended up agreeing.

You sat comfortably on the floor cushion as you waited for your husband to come home, excitement bubbling through you as you thought of your little plan.

You're going to win this time.

To start the plan, the first thing you did was to wear as many accessories as possible, you're sure you'll one-up him this way.

The second phase of your plan, however, would begin during the game.

You busied yourself on your phone when you heard the door to your house shutting close and the rustle of clothes.

Jing Yuan rounded the corner and smiled at you, noticing the anticipation on your face and the impatient tapping of your hand.

“Well, someone's excited to lose.”

“You bet! Wait, who said I'm losing? We're on equal footing this time, you're not getting out of this one.”

You folded your arms and huffed proudly, so sure of your upcoming victory.

“I'm not going to go easy on you.”

“You said that last time, dear, do you need a reminder of how that ended up for you?”

The game hadn't even started and he was already pulling out his tricks.

You were not going to lose.

Jing Yuan quickly settled down, listening patiently as you stated all the rules this time, not wanting to repeat the mistake you made in the previous game.

There were only 2 matches this time, a third only if there's a tie which made it a bit … difficult for your husband.

Not because he thought he would lose but more so because he loved your enthusiasm to beat him in the very game he had mastered since a young age.

… He'll go easy this time, that's decided.

The first match started with vigour, both of you moving your pawns back and forth to avoid losses.

Eventually, the match ended with you as the loser, even though Jing Yuan tried to leave obvious spots for you, he still got you in a checkmate.

You were down a few accessories, nothing too bad,

The second phase of your plan to win begins soon.

With the second match starting, you decided to be more aggressive while playing, granting you a few of Jing Yuan's pawns and of course, the sight of a-few-trinkets-less General.

Your luck ran out just as fast as it came, though.

In Jing Yuan's words, time for the Masterstroke.

“Oh, looks like I have to remove another accessory, that's a shame.”

You looked at your hand, excitement bubbling in your chest as you tried not to giggle at what you were about to do next.

You raised your dominant hand where your husband could see it and slipped off your wedding ring, before looking him right in the eye.

“Is it my turn?”

Jing Yuan narrowed his eyes.

“ …Yes.”

You played excitedly, this is going just as planned.

You knew that if you took off the ring, his attention would immediately be drawn to why you took it off and leave him more susceptible to losing.

Turns out, you were very wrong.

Jing Yuan straightened up, his once pleasant smile drawn into a frown now, he looked at the board for a second and before you could blink, he played his move.

You were taken aback, definitely, you hadn't expected him to be paying more attention to the game now.

Not a problem, though. You had a few other tricks up your sleeve.

You took a while to play your move as Jing Yuan stared at you silently.

He lost a pawn.

Jing Yuan removed his hair ribbon and played his move before you could even process the fact that he had his hair loose.

This being the last game, you played as cleverly as you could, dodging his attacks to the best of your ability. However, when you lost a pawn you would deliberately remove the specific accessories that your dear husband had lovingly gifted you.

But, somehow— your plan was working against you.

Jing Yuan had barely spoken a word since you took off the wedding ring, only giving you a tight-lipped smile when you made a joke, nodding or replying in hums when you talked.

The second match ended just as quickly as it had started and to no one's surprise, you lost.

Is it too late to start rethinking your decision?

You glanced at the board and back at Jing Yuan, who finally smiled at you warmly.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

You paused.

“Those are the rules, yes, but! You forget that the winner is decided by how many accessories or clothes they have on.”

“Count.”

You began tapping the few garments and trinkets around your body, silently counting them in your mind.

“Loudly.”

“ … There's six in total.”

“You've lost.”

“No way! Count everything in front of me right now, I know you've cheated!”

You were exasperated, there's no way you lost, Jing Yuan looked empty enough.

Right?

“Nine in total.”

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

You sighed as Jing Yuan only smiled back at you in pure amusement. Damnit. You can't be a sore loser.

You raised your hands in defeat, pouting as you saw his face light up.

“Do as you please, general.”

Jing Yuan chuckled at that, moving across the floor and picking you up, standing as he slung your body over his sturdy shoulder and moved towards your shared bedroom.

“Oh, wow! Do I get the privilege of a bed this time? I am most grateful, general.”

You teased playfully, grabbing at his loose hair and gently tugging a few strands.

There was a light slap to your ass, you squeaked in surprise— just about to start voicing your complaints when Jing Yuan spoke first.

“Trying to butter me up, hm? I'm afraid you won't get anywhere with that. You've invited more than enough trouble for yourself already.”

You huffed, he saw through all of your tactics.

“By doing what, exactly? Losing? Shouldn't you be happy about that?”

Jing Yuan gently dropped you onto the large bed, your soft body sinking into the mattress as your legs dangled off the edge.

He towered over you, placing his hand in his pocket, digging for something.

“No.”

You folded your arms to your chest and raised an eyebrow– probing him to speak more.

He dug out a ring from his pocket, along with the long red ribbon he had taken out of his tied hair earlier and held up both items.

“You took off your wedding ring.”

Jing Yuan got onto the bed on his knees, leaning down to cage you between his arms as he looked into your eyes.

“—and I will not let that pass.”

You laughed, throwing your head back on the bed as you struggled to breathe.

“So, that's what you're upset about?”

Jing Yuan pouted, his long hair pooling over his shoulders, almost touching you.

You giggled as you clasped your hands behind his neck, pulling his face down and stopping it right before your lips touched.

Jing Yuan’s breath hitched at the action, his face dusted with a light shade of red.

“What are you going to do about it, general?”

You smirked as you saw his eyes narrow, just about to give another snarky remark when he sealed your words with his mouth, kissing you passionately. You fisted his hair and kissed him back, heat simmering through your body as thoughts flooded your mind.

He pushed you further up the bed as he settled in between your legs and kissed you like he needed air, departing from your lips with heavy pants and creating some distance between the two of you to pull you to sit up.

“Hold out your hands and cup your palms together.”

You obeyed instantly, unsure of what he was about to do but not willing to test his patience further.

He placed the wedding ring in your hands before speaking again,

“Now, interlock your hands.”

You did as you were told again, the cold metal biting into your skin, you looked at him with confusion written all over your face.

Before you could speak, though, Jing Yuan raised the hand holding his hair ribbon and wrapped it around your wrists.

“Jing Yuan!”

He ignored your exasperated voice as he continued to bind your forearms together.

It didn't really reach your elbows, it wasn't long enough for that but it definitely restricted your movement, especially with the tightness Jing Yuan had kept.

Satisfied with the makeshift arm bound he had made, he sat back on his knees and looked at you with amusement.

“If that ring slips out of your hands, we'll stop.” Jing Yuan sealed your lips with a devouring kiss again, pushing you back to lie down on the bed as he tore the few clothes you had of your body, throwing the shreds as they scattered around your room. He pushed your bound hands above you, kissing down your throat and sucking in all the places he knew you wouldn't be able to cover up the next day.

“Jing Yuan— My clothes! They’re my favourite—fuck— why did you tear them off?” You could barely concentrate, your husband's hands roamed your body like they were almost destined to do so— touching, groping and feeling each part as you shuddered in his hold. “I’ll buy you new ones—”

He bit down on a nipple, eliciting a sharp cry from you. “—I’ll buy everything for you so that you can wear it and everyone knows you’re mine—mine and only mine.”Oh, you fucked up. Big time. You had never seen Jing Yuan this possessive over you. Over the wedding ring?

Your string of thoughts is cut off as you feel Jing Yuan grab the back of your thighs and curl his hands around them, proceeding to lick a wet stripe up your sticky folds, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden contact.

When exactly did he get down there? Jing Yuan buried his face into your pussy, moaning at the tangy taste as he dipped his tongue inside you. Your bound hands came down towards his head, just about to release them from the firm hold you had kept them in for aeons-know-what reason when your husband pulled away completely.

“Watch the hands, dear.” You groaned in frustration this time, pouting at him as best as you could being completely at his expense. “C’mon, Yu! You weren’t serious about that, were you?” “Oh, very serious.” Jing Yuan dipped down again to kiss the inside of your thighs, moving his face closer. “If that ring slips out of your hold, I’ll leave you here.” A blow of cool air on your clit made your body jerk in response.

“I'll untie your arms and bind them to the bed instead. So you'll be left here, dripping onto the sheets while I go cook us some dinner. How does that sound, hm?”

Jing Yuan spoke in a low voice, right against your pussy, which was, to your annoyance, visibly wet.

Bastard.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

You grumbled something back in response.

A nip to your folds, granting him another jerk of your body.

“I didn't quite catch that, dear.”

You whined and clasped your interlocked hands tighter, feeling the metal of the ring that had now become warm from your heated skin. You moved them back to their original position– above your head. “I'll be careful— Just– don't stop, please.”

You could feel the general's smile before he placed a gentle kiss on your clit.

“Good job.”

Jing Yuan went back to enthusiastically eating you out, dipping only the tip of his tongue inside you before pulling his mouth back up to stimulate your clit.

You were beyond embarrassed, having no way to cover your moans. You still tried to suppress the sounds, biting your bottom lip as you threw your head back.

Jing Yuan was having none of that, though. After being with you for so long he knew you had a habit of shying away from making noises.

Making noises for him.

He gripped one thigh harder in warning only to feel your pussy clench around his thick fingers at

that.

A warning.

Your climax was building up rapidly, your ability to soften your moans reducing as you unabashedly whimpered out Jing Yuan's name.

“I'm about to—”

and suddenly, it's like Jing Yuan never existed between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

…Fuck.

Your body heaved as your ruined climax started simmering down.

“Jing Yuan!”

“Yes, dear?”

His sing-song voice came out above you, he was still seated on the bed, right beside your spread legs. The only difference? He had taken away all the stimulation right before you came.

You panicked for a second, thinking you lost the ring and opened up your palms a little to see if it was still there.

Yep, still there.

Jing Yuan laughed, moving to place a kiss on your head as you pouted at him.

“Such an obedient little thing, aren't you?”

“The ring is still there, why did you—”

Jing Yuan gave you a smug smile this time.

Oh dear.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

#jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan the man that you are #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x you #going insane #afab reader

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victoryverse · 1 month

Note

Hmm...i have this messy scenario where reader and Simon are like enemy/rival to each other—well actually it's only from Simon's side since he has crush on reader without him realizing it and he also doesn't know how to act regarding his feeling so yeah Simon being Simon—he acted like a jerk to his crush. And reader actually has no clue nor idea why Simon hates them, not to mention he always throw that distasteful glance to reader. So one day on a mission, Simon and reader end up as duo and when they are taking a break in a safehouse, there's only one bottle of water left. They kinda fight for it and it's obvious that Simon would win, so he chugs down almost whole bottle. Before he really finishes, Simon pulls reader's collar and kisses them while also pouring the water down to their mouth. It may extends into long short makeout session depends on Simon's true intention at the time :))

~🫧

rivals*

warnings: cursing, hate feeling, smut towards the end, kissing! 🙈

The tension between Simon and you had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks, like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment. From the moment you had been assigned as partners on missions, it was clear that there was an unspoken rivalry brewing between you, fueled by snide remarks and competitive banter.

Today was no different. As you found yourselves holed up in a safehouse during a particularly grueling mission, the atmosphere crackled with an intensity that was hard to ignore. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system.

You sat across from each other, both exhausted from the day's events, but neither willing to break the silence. The tension between you was suffocating, and you wished desperately for a distraction to break the ice.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, you spoke up, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, this is cozy, isn't it? Two sworn enemies forced to share a safehouse. What could possibly go wrong?"

Simon's lips curled into a sneer as he met your gaze, his eyes cold and calculating. "Oh, I don't know, maybe you could try not getting in my way for once. That would be a nice change of pace."

You rolled your eyes, refusing to let his barbs get under your skin. "Please, Simon, like you're the picture of efficiency. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to sabotage our mission."

Simon's jaw clenched, his expression darkening with anger. "Funny, coming from the one who can't seem to follow orders without screwing up."

The words stung, but you refused to let him see how much they affected you. Instead, you shot back with a cutting remark of your own. "At least I don't let my ego get in the way of doing my job. Unlike some people I know."

Simon's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. "Watch it, Y/N, or you might find yourself on the wrong end of my fist."

You scoffed, unimpressed by his empty threats. "Please, Simon, we both know you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if your life depended on it."

The tension between you reached a boiling point, the air practically crackling with animosity. You both knew that this was a battle neither of you could win, but neither of you were willing to back down.

Just then, Simon reached for the last remaining bottle of water, his hand closing around it possessively. Your eyes widened in surprise, realizing that you were both reaching for it simultaneously.

"Hey, that's mine," you protested, trying to snatch it from his grasp.

Simon's lips curled into a smirk as he held the bottle just out of your reach. "Finders keepers, loser weepers," he taunted, his tone dripping with arrogance.

You scowled, feeling a surge of frustration coursing through you. "You can't be serious. We're supposed to be partners, Simon."

But Simon didn't seem to care. Instead, he twisted the cap off the bottle and took a long, exaggerated swig, relishing in your annoyance.

Before you could protest further, he leaned across the table, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him. Your eyes widened in shock, your breath catching in your throat as his lips crashed against yours.

For a moment, you were too stunned to react, your mind struggling to process what was happening. But then, as the shock wore off, you found yourself melting into the kiss, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

Simon's lips were surprisingly soft against yours, his kiss filled with a raw intensity that sent shivers down your spine. You could taste the water on your lips, little drops pouring from his mouth into yours, that made the moment even more hotter.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Simon's other hand sliding down your chest, his touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. You knew you should pull away, that this was wrong on so many levels, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop. Not when he kissed you like that.

It was as if all the pent-up tension between you had finally reached its breaking point, and now, there was no turning back. You found yourself surrendering to the heat of the moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation of Simon's lips against yours.

But just as quickly as it had begun, the kiss was over, leaving you breathless and bewildered. Simon pulled away, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at you, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, you simply stared at each other, both of you shocked. And then, as if on cue, the reality of the situation came crashing down around you.

"What… what was that?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon's expression softened, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I… I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeats. "I just… I couldn't stand the thought of you being mad at me anymore."

You blinked in surprise, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place. So that was it – all this time, Simon had been acting like a jerk because he couldn't deal with his own feelings for you.

A wave of sympathy washed over you and you reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his arm.

"I didn't realize," you murmured, your voice soft with compassion. "I had no idea you felt that way."

Simon looked at you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of rejection. But all he found was warmth and acceptance, a silent invitation. The hate and regret was melting into something else, and soon, he pulled his lips back on yours, his ahds gripping your waist harshly and pulling you on him completely.

You straddled his thigh, his rough hands grabbing handfuls of your flesh and moans spilling from your lips as she grabbed an spanked your ass.

"Simon, oh godd--"

Your words remained lodged in your throat, as he flipped you over, making you lay down on the floor and gripping your bulletproof jacket, pulling it off you. He pulled the intercom too, and you gasped as he began undoing your belt.

"But, but si--the mission?" you asked, your voice ragged and breathless.

"Fuck the mission. All I want to concentrate on is you and this tight little pussy of yours"

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fountainpenguin · 6 months

Text

Tango POV Session 3 highlights (My first POV this session, jumping in with no spoilers)-

Skizz: "I want a giant blinking heart in the sky" Tango: "Cool idea :) You're doing the redstone, right?" Skizz: ... Tango: "YOU'RE doing the redstone for that, right?"

Skizz: "While editing I was like... 'Am I a loser?' Tango: "No, no, no! It was well before editing that I realized that."

I do love the server dynamics that give us gems like Mumbo sprinting across the ground yelling about how he has a quick, urgent thing he needs to do... Just an average day in the death game.

slkdjf Tango and Skizz finally found someone just as desperate and needy as them... Enter the man who has been shunned for 3 seasons because of his boogeyman kill. We love a BigB!!

BigB: "Skizz, this might be time to point out my weak building skills-" Skizzleman: "Oh no, don't worry. That's why we've got ourselves a Tango!" Tango: /incoherent shrieking and denials

Tango assigned homemaker by the narrative.

So just to be clear, we've got Tango "I will teach you redstone and cheer you on" (Mansplain), we've got BigB "There is no hole in the mesa" (Manipulate), and Skizz "I built the base" (Malewife). Good for them.

Skizz: "At my IRL job when I had to create blinking lights, I literally had someone go back to the breaker and flip it."

Tango, to Cleo: "That's all we are! Cringe 'R' Us!"

sdlkfj Tango hugging and comforting Torchy over how scary Etho's water bucket attack was. "If he comes back, I will take care of this."

BigB: "I have an anvil." Tango and Skizz losing their minds: "BEST TEAMMATE EVER!"

Heart Foundation: "We will join forces and gift our hearts to a randomly selected person. Everyone will like and protect us; we are creating our own plot armor." Etho, immediately after receiving his hearts: "I am a huge fan. Sign me up. Whatever I need to do to stay on. I will let you use the enchanting table. I would be dead if it were not for the Heart Foundation."

Gem and Scott riding up on their zombie and skeleton horses would be SO terrifying. Can't wait to see the fanart of that sdfklj

Tango killed it this session, he did not cut corners in babbling to Torchy.

Gem: "I think your task is to remove light sources from the server." Tango: "That would be very incorrect." Tango as he sprints away, muttering to Torchy: "I know?? They were standing right by us and they didn't even notice??"

Torchy has such boogeyman tendencies, geez. Is this Leven Thumps; did we confine the spirit of the boogeyman to a piece of wood??

Tango, raiding someone's base: "You want to? We could."

I enjoy the new rule about Yellows having one chance to call people out on their task. I think this is a good move to up the tension and also encourage people to do it because you only get one shot per episode. Don't wanna waste it!

slkdjf @ Tango chatting with Etho, Etho susses out his task, so Tango immediately runs to Grian to confirm the rules. Grian tells him no problem, Etho's green so he's in the clear. Tango runs off crowing in laughter.

Lizzie: "I've heard some weird things about you." Tango: "We are excellent today." Lizzie: "That's the weird stuff I've been hearing."

?? Is Tango's official canon that redstone exposure turned his eyes red? Neat.

lksdjf Skizz seething about Impulse.

Tango: "What did he do?" Skizz: "His task was to find somebody who's got greater than 25 hearts and find a way to - air quotes - "accidentally" get them to lose 5 hearts. So he made sure I lost 20."

Yeah, that tracks.

Freaking goodness, Tango put his entire heart and soul into this invisible friend task.

Bdubs' globe is looking amazing <3

?? Etho running up to Joel and saying "I love you?" What is the context; looking forward to figuring that out.

Etho: "I love you." Joel: "Okay, I know you're obsessed with me, I saw you made me your thumbnail of your first episode, but come on..."

Called out at the end!!! Devastating!!!

That is the end, but what a great session. So much death...

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idyllcy · 9 months

Text

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

word count: 11.9k

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

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

"I like you. let's date."

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

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

"Let's date?"

"before that."

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

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

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

"I don't want to hear it."

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

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

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

"And if I accept your confession?"

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

"What if I leave you hanging?"

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

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

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

You look at him expectantly.

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

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

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

You grin. "Should I call you babe?"

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

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

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

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

"Well, they—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug, the bell going off.

"What's your next class?"

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

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

"Creative Writing. Bingo, loser."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Red."

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

"Are you listening to an audiobook on duty?"

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

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

"Little wing, did you get a girlfriend?"

"What?"

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

"He could also have a crush."

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

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

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

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

"Where?"

"Mall. Are you deaf?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No complaints?" You tilt your head.

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

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

"I'm defenestrating you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you bring me coffee?"

"Your usual?"

"Yes please."

"Alright."

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

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

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

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

"What are you drawing?"

"The skrunkly." You mumble.

"The soots from Spirited Away?"

"Yes."

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

"You should apply as an art major."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Want me to check?"

"Please."

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

"You've got a lot of scars."

"You know what it's from."

"Your nighttime activities."

Jason can practically see you wriggling your brows at him.

"Yeah. Call it that."

"Can I be part of that?"

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

You let his shirt fall back down.

"None."

"Shall we go?"

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

Jason SUCKS at dance dance revolution.

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

Jason gawks at how high your score is.

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

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

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

"I'm going to defenestrate you."

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

"From the top of Wayne Tower?"

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

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

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

"Sweetheart."

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

"Babe."

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

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

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

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

"How many more coins do you have?"

"Sixteen."

"Can I get three more?"

"Which ones do you want?"

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

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

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

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

"When's my birthday?"

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

"I'm hurt."

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

"You have terrible memory."

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

"Shared custody?"

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

"Nope. Which ones do you want?"

"I want the franchised ones."

"So like, more than half of them."

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

"Not the Red Hood one?"

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

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

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

"I don't see why not."

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

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

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

"They're fine with us hanging out?"

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

"Gotham, obviously."

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

"Can't."

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

"And you have to go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will you miss me?"

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

"Yeah, but will you miss me?"

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

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

You smile. "Apple."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't?"

You laugh. "I love you too."

"Maybe I should apply there." He mumbles.

"You can't leave Gotham."

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

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

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

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

"Oops."

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

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

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

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

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

"With my helmet on?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever you want."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's got a bomb built in."

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

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

"Can I get ice cream?"

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"True, huh."

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

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

"Deadass?"

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

"Why not now?"

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

"You wanna fuck in Bruce's room?"

"NO."

"Not a hotel."

"Definitely not a hotel."

"In the Batcave?"

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

"Your house."

"No."

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

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

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

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

"What shape is that?"

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

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

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

"Yeah? What about them?"

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

"You like my eyes that much?"

"I like everything about you." You mumble.

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

"Always."

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

"One more."

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

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

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

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

"Jason?"

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

"Daddy's got money to spare."

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

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

"Then go by boat." You hum.

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

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

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

"Think about your tits."

"Pecs, baby."

"Think about biting them."

"In a—"

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

"In the neurodivergent way?"

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

"Oh?"

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

"Alfred."

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

"I can text you."

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you?"

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Far back. Behind all the paintings."

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

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

"How are your feet doing?"

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

"Need to swap shoes with me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wanna go anywhere after this?"

"Can we grapple to get Batburgers?"

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

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

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

"Oh, come on."

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

You grumble. "Can we still get Batburgers?"

"With ice cream?"

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

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

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

Jason laughs. "I can pop the ring."

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

"Absolutely." He laughs.

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

"This is bliss."

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

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

"Deadass?"

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

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

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

"Why haven't you told me?"

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

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

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

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

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

Jason laughs.

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

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

"Isn't public nudity also a crime?"

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

"Would rather be sucking on them."

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

"Do you have a curfew?"

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

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

"We are NOT fucking in a parking lot."

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

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

"And? There's no cameras there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nope."

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

"Not the first time, huh?"

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

"Night's coming."

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

"Some guy with a sharp ass knife."

You raise a brow at him.

"It was a henchman. Six to one."

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

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

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

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

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

"We will. Thanks for patching him up."

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

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

"Sure."

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

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

"Thanks. Anything from Lit?"

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

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

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

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

"Whatcha up to?"

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

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

"Wanted to see if I got rusty."

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

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

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

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

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

"You're on a watchlist, then?"

"I run crime in Gotham."

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

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

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

"You know what I mean."

You grin. "Yeah. I do."

"Wanna go anywhere before grad?"

"Wanna drive to New York?"

"And blow daddy's money?"

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

"He won't even notice." He smiles. "Motor or car?"

"Car."

"Bet."

AP testing could be a lot better. You sleep through half of it, finishing your multiple choice and essay questions too fast, exhaustion all over your face when you finish, calling your friend your savior as she hands you your coffee order. You could leave early if you really wanted to, but you don't, for some weird reason, and you stick by the rest of your classes, physically exhausted from all of the APs. Your coffee does little to minimize the psychic damage you received while taking the exam.

Even when Jason takes you to get dinner together, you're half picking through your food, half actually eating.

"Tired?"

"I can't wait to graduate." You mumble. "At least we don't need to be here during finals week."

"You gonna travel?"

"Wanna fly to Bruce's place in Hawaii?"

"Too cliche," Jason mumbles. "How about his mansion in the Alps?"

You gasp. "Deadass?"

"I can ask. I doubt he'd say no." Jason reaches for a fry on your plate, his empty.

"Want the rest of them?"

"Not hungry?"

"Not really." You reach for the second half of the sandwich. "Burnt out, more."

"Wanna take two weeks of independent study to run for the Alps?" Jason blurts.

You blink at him incredulously. "My parents would kill me."

"Not if I have Bruce lie and say it's for a camp."

You tilt your head at him. "My dad hates your dad."

"He does?"

"Daddy issues. Inferiority complex." You chew on the sandwich. "Doesn't matter. Send me a ticket. I'll lie and say it was for a class project to try and figure out the probability of lotteries and by some weird stroke of luck I got it."

"Gotcha."

The lie works, and the two of you take two weeks of independent study for the Alps, something only three people know the real reason for. It's really only Jason's family. The two of you both have stellar grades — it doesn't matter if you take a break. You wander into the Wayne mansion, surprised at everything you see. It's kept in crazy good condition despite the lack of servants.

"You guys got a maid here or something?" You mumble at the lack of dust.

"Bruce had it cleaned a couple days ago because I said we'd be coming."

"Can we wear cute clothes and head to the farmer's market?"

"Of course."

You pause. "Are we still going to New York?"

"Do you not want to anymore?"

"No." You hum. "I'm down. I just figured since we're in the Alps..."

"We're still going unless you cancel."

"Not canceling." You cross your arms. "Definitely not cancelling."

You find out just how much money Jason gets in a month's allowance on the trip. You're not allowed to pay for anything, jaw dropping at the black card that you didn't know a teen could even own, and the sheer amount of cash that Jason had was just baffling. You felt bad at first, only for Jason to pull up his bank records and show you just how much money was in his account. You wish you were born as a billionaire's son. Maybe you should've stolen car tires to get adopted by Bruce Wayne — the thought makes you laugh.

"You feel better?"

"If dating you means self care trips, I'm going to get down on a knee and propose. If we break up, I'll haunt you to your death." You yawn, grabbing another handful of blueberries. "Kill myself, even."

"That's a little extreme. I have no plans to break up with you." Jason pushes his shades up, turning to look at you.

"How's Gotham? Aren't you supposed to be there to control crime n shit?"

"Burner phone." He waves the old device in his hand. "Henchmen."

"Loyal?"

"Enough." Jason hums. "Wanna go to the fields later?"

"Yeah. Let's bike." You grin.

The fields of grass remind you of Jason's eyes, a green that you only got to see during spring and the rare moments of peace in Gotham. Dare you say it, it reminds you of Ivy's plants sometimes. Or the look of that one time toxins spilled into the river. The green of his eyes is vibrant in all the best and worst ways, but it's still dazzling to you. Laying in the grass makes you remember your date in the park. This time, the fields are pretty much empty.

"Wanna pick up from the park?" Jason rests on his side, fingers tapping your chest.

"I thought I told you I'm not doing anything indecent in public."

"Making out is hardly indecent."

"Your teenage hormones and the way you've been staring at my tits in this dress? Indecent." You yawn, turning to face him. "Does Bruce have cameras in the mansion?"

"Not in the master bath."

"Deal."

"Don't fall asleep this time."

"Oi," You punch him lightly. "Rude. That was after prom. I was tired."

"Just saying."

You punch him again in retaliation.

Jason wastes no time in having you, fingers pressed to your skin again, harder this time, nipping and biting at your skin, ignoring the way you try to tell him not to leave visible marks. You could live with a couple hickeys for two weeks. He nips at your neck, sliding the sundress down your shoulders, tugging at the string hiding your tits from him, lips pressing to you again as your fingers thread through his hair.

Jason didn't think it would be possible to love someone to this extent. He watches as you breathe in his arms, head pressed to his chest, bare skin pressed onto his, chests meeting. His fingers brush your cheek, heart warm and alive, lashes fluttering as he continues staring, hickeys formed on your skin, something you'd probably smack him for later. But he's sure you enjoyed it. He made sure that you did. He holds his breath as you shift in his arms.

"G'mornin." You mumble.

"Mornin'." He smiles.

"'m sore." You grumble. "Bitch." You punch him weakly.

"Was it good, though?" Jason laughs at your frown.

"Yeah." You sigh. "I'll go make breakfast."

"I'll do it."

"You're going to burn the kitchen down. No." You grumble. "Carry me around... I'll cook?"

Jason lifts you in a chair as you tell him to move you around, laughing when he starts ignoring you on purpose, smile on his face when you call for him. He complies after the third time, helping you plate the food and adjusting your seat height so you were comfortable.

"You should cook for me forever."

"I think you should move into my college dorm with me." You deadpan. "Just join me there. Bruce can donate a building or something."

"That's illegal."

"And you're a white man. Pick a privilege."

"Should I go blonde for the full white man privilege?" Jason taps his chin. "Would I look good blonde?"

"You'd give your family a heart attack, that's for sure." You mumble. "We should photoshop you to make you blonde."

"Are you into blondes?"

"I'm into you." You smile, the two of you going quiet before a laugh breaks past your lips. "I've been waiting to use that."

"I can tell." Jason hums, lips pulled into a smile.

"If you go blonde..." You pause. "No. Don't go blonde. Blonde gym rats scare me."

"Excuse you, I am not a gym rat."

"You'll stick out like a sore thumb during patrol." You grimace. "It's all black and then your hair is glowing in the dark like you're a flashlight."

"That's just insulting." Jason covers his mouth. "I wear a helmet, babe."

"It's the truth."

"Bruce would have a heart attack." Jason hums. "Sounds tempting."

"We can bleach your hair while here." You offer. "Your whole head."

"And ruin my perfect hair? No thanks."

"Says the loser with white hair."

"Now that's insulting." He taps your nose, frowning. "You and I both know why I have white hair."

"Cuz you almost died?"

"Yeah."

The two of you settle with Photoshop instead, cutting and pasting some random guy's blonde hair on top of Jason's, making him bald in the process. You take a photo to send to Dick and Tim, putting blue eyes on top of Jason's too, turning him into the textbook white man. You fall over in with the chair from how hard you laugh, Jason left to deal with the result of you sending the family his white man portrait. Dick sends a portrait to get edited too, and you go through the whole family, giving them blonde hair and blue eyes. You send the family photo into the groupchat, changing all of their contact photos to the edited version of them in the process. Jason finds it pointless, but from how hard you're laughing, he lets it pass.

"So? Do I look good blonde?"

"You look good no matter what you look like." You hum, leaning into his chest as you delete any evidence of the images on the desktop. "But really, you should join me for college."

"Too much work."

"You're a valedictorian."

"So are you."

You sigh. "I'm going to be all aloneeeeee."

"I'll call you every day."

"You can't promise that."

"We can call while I'm on patrol."

"Babe, I'll be asleep by then."

"With your sleep schedule?"

You go quiet.

"That's what I thought."

"We should send each other photos every day."

"One of those cheesy phone apps?"

"Yeah." You grin. "Or make video diaries."

"I'm not making a video diary."

"I'll make you video diaries to show you what I do in a day." You grin.

"Will I get to see your tits?"

"When I change, sure."

The two of you fly back at the end of the week, the hickeys from Jason all faded and the scratches from you all healed. It was like it never happened — save for the teeth mark you left on Jason's chest before leaving. You just wanted a bite, nothing more.

Both you and Jason turn in all your work when you return, grades still intact, end of the school year at your fingertips, buying tickets for grad. Jason has to buy more tickets from the students because of how big his family is. You joke that Bruce is going to end up with 14 grandchildren. The way Jason grimaces makes you think that it isn't exactly impossible. You don't want to find out.

You help Jason pin his grad cap into his hair so he doesn't look bald.

"Where was this idea when I graduated?" Dick clicks his tongue as you pin Jason's hair down.

"Probably with the girls," You have Jason shake his head to check if the cap was secure. It is. "I saw your grad photos. It's the classic image everyone gets."

"You gonna pin my cap in for my grad too?" Tim hums.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"No?" He raises a brow.

"Huh. Thought you did." You shrug. "I'll do it if you don't have any friends who figure it out."

The two of you head out, waving bye to the Wayns as Jason sits in his car.

"We're meeting in the gym, right?"

"Yeah. No bags." Jason hums.

"I'll just clip all of these," You clip them onto your gown.

Graduation is a blur as you take photos with your friends and with Jason, fireworks going off in the back, lips pressed to his in the darkness, pulling away when the two of you break into your own respective friend groups, photos taken with each other. You wonder if you should just introduce Jason to your parents officially at grad. You find that you don't have much of a choice when you spot Dick with your parents. You have no idea how he did it.

"Little wing!"

Jason groans at the nickname. "Hey, Dick."

"You're done!" Dick puts Jason into a headlock, and you take the flowers from your parents.

"Congrats." They smile at you.

You smile back. "Thank you. Ah, uh, this is Jason."

"We've met." Your mom smiles at Jason and he stands up, sighing.

"Dick, don't be rude."

"No, like," You pause, grimacing. Jason takes your hand, rubbing soothing circles, speaking up instead.

"We're dating."

"Oh." Your mom blinks, eyes wide.

"How long?" Your dad cuts in.

Jason looks at you as you swallow, squeezing his hand. "Since the first day of senior year."

Your dad is about to speak up when Dick spots Bruce and the rest of his siblings, waving for them at the spot. Your mom squeezes your arm, almost as if to tell you that you would talk later about it. Jason pulls you off to meet the rest of his family, Cass placing a lei around your neck, congratulating you for graduating. You smile at her thanking Bruce as he hands you a card. You don't want to think about what's inside of it. You slip that into the gift bag Tim hands you, thanking his family for the gifts, only to get pulled to the side by your other friends' families, more photos taken and leis thrown around your neck. You catch Jason end up pulled to the side by his friends, and you somehow end up in the mix.

By the end of the night, you're thoroughly spent, slouching in the back of your parents' car, exhaustion all over your face.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Your mother's voice is quiet.

"Didn't think you'd approve."

"Then why date him?" Your dad speaks up this time, voice hard. "If you knew we didn't want you dating that Wayne kid, why did you—"

"Cuz I like him." You sigh. "Love him a lot. Love him like the two of you love each other."

"You can't guarantee that. You're only in high school." Your mother reasons. "I'm sure there are—"

"Don't want another." You mumble, curling into the gift bag Tim handed you. "I know he's the one."

The car stops at the red light, and you glance to look at your dad's expression.

"Since when?"

"I told you, start of the school year—"

"No. When did you decide it was alright to keep secrets?" He raises his voice, and you wince.

"Honey, she's young, she'll—"

You blink, exhaustion in your body making it impossible for you to argue back with him, the arguing would have been futile anyway. You wonder if Jason is enjoying his graduation party. Maybe he's getting the night off from patrol since it was graduation. Maybe you'll text him later when you get home. You probably won't. You're too tired for it. Your dad's yelling is tuned out automatically, your body on autopilot when you bring everything to your room and drop it to the ground. You really hope Tim didn't bring you something that would break easily. You'll look tomorrow.

The knock at your window after you shower makes you pause.

"What are you doing here?"

"Wanna go grapple?" Jason smiles.

"My hair is wet. I don't wanna catch a cold."

"Put it in the helmet. It's waterproof." He pops it off his head, locking it around your neck. You glance at his domino mask.

"Do I need shoes?"

"I'll carry you the whole time." He hums. "Lock your door."

"Already did." You adjust the helmet on your head, wrapping your arms around his neck as he warps an arm around your waist. You hear the sound of the hook launch, and you stare through his helmet as he swings you into the air, the city of Gotham beneath you, warm wind of summer blowing against you, the cityscape rendering you breathless. The sound of screams and cars cancel each other out as Jason lands on a roof, adjusting his hold on you so you'd be more comfortable.

"So?" He raises a brow at you.

"It's gorgeous." You grin, turning to look at him. "Do you see this every night?"

"Only when I grapple. Usually I don't get to see because I'm grappling to catch a criminal."

"I love it." You hum.

"Want a batburger?"

"Fuck yeah."

The two of you swing down to the place as Jason puts you down in a booth to order. You fold your legs up, grinning at Jason as he hands you an ice cream.

"How'd you know I didn't want a burger?" You raise a brow.

"Too late for burgers." He hums. "You said you only liked ice cream after two."

"Thank you." You beam, watching Jason stare at you. "Something happen?"

"Your dad looked like he was going to hit you." Jason mumbles. "Did he hit you later?"

"No. He just got mad I kept it from him..." You pause. "And that I'm dating you. They think you're going to break up with me."

"Hope they have fun at the wedding, then." Jason hums. "You're alright?"

"I tuned them out on the car ride home." You smile.

"Alright. Dick was worried too. He said your dad looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel when I pulled you to my family." Jason hums. "Should I have dinner with them sometime?"

"No. They aren't going with me to move for college, so it doesn't matter." You mumble.

"You need help packing? I can send Cass."

"It's fine." You tap his hand. "I promise."

"Are you cutting ties with them?"

Your breath catches in your throat. "I... don't know."

"If you do, Bruce says he'd be more than willing to fund your education." Jason whispers.

"Woah, I'm already part of your family?" You gasp.

"Yeah." He nods. "So if you cut ties with your family, you have mine."

"I'll be fine." You mumble, staring at his hand. "I promise."

Your parents don't catch you. As mad as they could get, they didn't really care about what you did in your free time. Not even when you snuck out. You don't know why they're so mad about the whole dating situation, but given Bruce and Dick's public images, you aren't surprised they'd think Jason would do the same — even given the fact that you had been friends with him since you started high school.

When you get ready for work the next day, you barely notice the way your parents are sitting on the couch like you owe them a conversation.

"Young lady, where are you going?"

"Work." You turn to look at them.

"Or on a date?"

"This is what I wear to work." You repeat yourself.

Your dad raises a brow at you but doesn't speak further when you leave.

You're really contemplating running away from home. You don't have an actual reason to, so you stay home for the most part, ignoring the knocks on your door and hopping out your window when you wanted to go somewhere. Jason resorts to calling you when he isn't jumping in your window to talk with you for a bit. You can do with the distance, but it isn't ideal. The exhaustion from your lack of mobility is catching up to you.

"What do you think could change their minds?"

You frown, finishing first in Mario Kart. "Nothing."

"Not even a dinner?"

You frown. "They don't like the rich."

"They know I'm adopted, right?"

"They won't like that you're an orphan either."

"They're picky."

"Really picky." You grumble. "Last time I brought a boy home, they scared him off."

"They won't be able to scare me off, you know?"

"Yeah." You pause. "Maybe you should eat with them sometime."

"Dinner?"

You frown. "They're hosting a barbecue next week. I'll invite you."

"You're going to force me into the guest list?"

"It's better with more people." You mumble. "The fact that you were wearing a valedictorian gown might also help."

"When is it?"

"Next Saturday at 5pm." You mumble. "You know how to barbecue?"

"Would it surprise you if I say yes?"

"Yeah." You hum. "You know any of my friends' families?"

"Two. Good terms too."

"Alright. Don't be late."

"Should I bring meat?"

You seriously contemplate asking him if he wants to bring Wagyu, but you decide against it. "Bring beer."

"Ey, we can't drink yet."

"I'll rush to help you. My dad's probably going to get me to buy beer anyway."

"The expensive kind?"

"I'll send you a couple of brands." You pause. "Invite Dick too."

"To charm your mom?"

"Yeah." You grin. "To charm my mom and her friends."

You know your parents better than Jason realizes. When you help him bring the beer into your house, your father's expression softens, asking Jason if he wanted a bottle. Jason turns it down, mentioning that he still has to drive home later, also that he wasn't technically at the legal drinking age — not that it stopped people. You let out a breath you were holding when your dad pats him on the back and walked off to talk to the other people.

"So?"

"Went well." You mumble. "How good are you at barbecuing?"

"I'm on barbecue duty when we do it at our place."

"You're practically a barbecue dad." You gasp. "Woah."

"Yeah?"

"You have the build too. You're only missing a hawaiian shirt now." You pat his back. "You can go figure out how to help at the grill, I have to go check on my mom."

"Hope Dick hasn't stolen her from your dad."

"I sure hope not." You wince.

It ends well, the barbecue. You don't get yelled at for inviting Jason, and your mother tells you all about how Dick was such a charmer, a real ladies' guy. Your dad doesn't mention it, but from the way he kept eating, you can guess he liked Jason's grill skills. You should text him about it. Maybe you'd go for their summer barbecues sometime. You don't know.

Your dad pulls you to the side the next day.

"I'm sorry for lashing out." He pauses. "I was. It's stressful, knowing you're dating the second son of a family of players."

"I get it." You swallow. Not really. Your goal is just to make sure he likes Jason now.

"He's... he's good for you." Your dad smiles at you weakly.

You wonder if he's only saying this because Jason wouldn't leave your side earlier. Or maybe it was because your mother had told him that Jason looks at you like you're his whole world. You don't know why. But you suppose his acceptance is enough. At least you're allowed outside of the house now. You tighten the straps of your swimwear around your neck before leaving the house.

"He was good with you leaving?" Jason hands you a helmet for the bike.

"Yeah. Trusts you." You mumble. "Think Dick did a lot of work. Did you thank him?"

"Yeah." Jason hums. "Hope you're not tired of barbecue."

"Am I going to yours for it?"

"You can taste Alfred's cooking, and you can get a little more of mine." He hums. "Arms around the waist, babe."

"I'm excited." You mumble, lips quirking up as you wrap your arms around his waist. "Ooh, rock hard."

"I'm going to leave you here."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Love you too much for it."

The Wayne Manor is a mansion. Well, that much has been established, you suppose. You are, however, surprised to see a giant ass backyard with a huge ass pool. You've never been to the backyard, now that you think of it. Jason's never taken you.

"Did you bring swimwear?"

"Under the clothes," You pull your shirt over your head, ditching the shorts. "Tadaa!"

Jason laughs. "Put the shirt back on. Your tits are for me to see only, babe."

You frown. "Why not your shirt?"

Jason pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it at you. "That good enough?"

"Sure." You pull your arms through, placing your stuff to the side, jumping into the water to join his siblings.

You like the manor. Despite the constant bickering, the place felt warm, and that wasn't something you got often. The house is warm. It's warm as the Gotham sun burns into your back when you sit in the water by the ledge, head resting in your arms, it's warm when the charcoal in the grill burns, and it's warm when Cass pulls you out of the water to dry off before dinner. You could smell the food from where you were in the pool — you might just move here for the food.

Jason fills your plate for you, grabbing a little bit of everything, cutting your steak for you in advance as his family watches in awe.

"Little wing is capable of this?!"

"Steph, you owe me twenty."

"Bruce, you owe me 20k." Cass pokes at their dad as he stares at Jason.

"They bet on you?"

"Heard I got a girlfriend a while ago, and suddenly they started fighting each other over what kind of a boyfriend I would be." He switches plates with you, shrimp peeled and steak cut. "Oyster's clean, by the way."

"I'm gonna marry you."

"We've established this, I know."

You shrug, stabbing the shrimp. "Just reminding you."

"Don't beat me to the proposal, by the way." He points his knife at you.

"Master Jason." Alfred clears his throat, and Jason puts his knife down.

"Sorry, Alfred."

You hold a shrimp to his lips. "C'mon. As a thank you."

"Oh, at least you care." He bites down, chewing. "Don't beat me."

"I hope you get me a red diamond just to empty your pockets." You mumble.

"You want a ring with a gem worth a million dollars?"

"Yeah." You grin, holding a piece of steak to his lips. "You don't wanna give it to me?"

"I'll steal it."

"Oh, how romantic." You quiet down as you start eating the steak.

"You really want a red diamond?"

You glance at him, lips pulled into the fakest smile you can manage. "Yeah."

"Want it before you leave?" Jason raises a brow, the skin on his own shrimp finally peeled.

"You telling me you're gonna propose to me right out of high school? That's a recipe for disaster."

"Babe, we've been a disaster." He hums. "From you not telling your parents to me sneaking you to Switzerland to skip school, we have not been normal at all."

"Don't forget about New York."

"When is that again?"

You pretend to be offended. "I'm breaking up with you."

"I don't know what just happened, but I'm on her side." Dick cuts in.

"Me too."

"Me three."

"Guys." Jason groans.

"It's fine. We never set a date. How about in two weeks?" You hum.

"Yeah." He mumbles. "Wanna leave in the morning?"

"Sure. There's less cars then, huh?"

"We can stay at Bruce's penthouse."

"Does he have a house everywhere? New trivia game, where does Bruce Wayne NOT have a house?" You mumble.

"I don't have a place in Finland." Bruce calls from the end of the table.

You hold a hand over your mouth. "You got a place in Dubai?"

"A whole building."

"Woah..." You mumble. "How 'bout China?"

"Got a penthouse."

You blink in surprise. "Singapore?"

"Own a mansion there."

"You're not even a crazy rich asian." You mumble. "That should be a trivia game."

"For family game night?" Jason raises a brow at you, plate now empty.

"Yeah." You switch plates with him. "Which place does Bruce Wayne not own property."

"You're full?"

"Mhm." You nod. "You can have the rest."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You mumble.

Jason's driving does not scare you. You feel like it should, considering he drives pretty rough, but it does not scare you. If anything, you're worried about getting ticketed. Well, not like he was driving past the speed limit. At least you have the aux.

"How'd you convince your parents to let you go?"

"Told em it was a girls' trip." You yawn. "Lied straight through my teeth."

"You're awful."

"You're the influence."

"Makes both of us awful I guess." Jason hums. "We're staying at a hotel instead of Bruce's."

"Why's that?"

"Wanna have you without his security cameras."

You laugh. "Your horny little teenage brain."

"Both of us."

"Nuh-uh," You shake your head. "I don't think about jumping you. I think about biting you nonsexually."

"Yeah?"

You go quiet. "And marking you up. No visible marks this time." You deadpan. "New York is a hot mess and I still need to try clothes on."

"You gonna go shopping on fifth avenue?"

"Will you let me?"

"Go blow my money."

"Then I won't go easy."

Jason leans on the wall as you show him different clothes, doing a little spin for him when he asked. You try a bunch of stuff on only to buy three articles of clothing. You still feel bad for spending his money. Besides, he was paying for the hotel. You really wonder if you should buy him coffee as a thank you or something. Though, as Jason rips the tag directly off one of the dresses you try on, the thought disappears.

"We'll take this one." He hands the tag to the cashier. "Keep it on. You look good."

"Thank you." You grin, taking the bags from Jason as he pulls out his card. You blink as he swipes it without thinking. You wonder if you'd get to live a life like that.

"Thinking?" He takes the bags from your hand again, card in his wallet.

"I wanna be a rich kid..." You mumble. "I'd love to be rich."

"You have me."

"Yeah, but it's still different from being rich yourself." You hum. "Let's head back for the day."

"Tired?"

You frown. "I don't want you swiping your card any more."

"Why not?" He moves his bags onto one hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "It's for you. Bruce is fine with it."

"Yeah, but." Your face drops. "too much."

"Alright. But this much," Jason holds the bags up. "That isn't really considered much if you consider—"

"I'm not one of them, Jay." You squeeze his hand. "I'm fine with what you've got me already. Wanna go to the ice cream museum tomorrow?"

"Sure." He smiles. "Make the reservations."

"Got it." You grin.

Because no matter how willing Jason is when it comes to swiping his card for you, he still respects your words. Even when you're telling him it's too much, he knows when you truly draw the line, in the way your eyes harden and your voice drops. Jason would spill his entire fortune for you, anything for you, just for your happiness. That was all that mattered to him — the little sparkle in your eye when you were happy, the small upward tug of your lips when you were content, the way your body relaxed when you were truly at peace. You. As long as you were happy, he was happy. Hand on your cheek and lips pressed to yours, he was happy.

"You gonna miss me in college?" He squeezes your cheek as you stare at the NYU banner.

"Definitely." You hum. "You should go here."

"Why's that?"

"It's where all the rich kids go." You grin.

"Daddy's money could get me into your school too." He smiles, leaning down to press his forehead to yours teasingly.

"Then why not use it?"

"Cause Bruce actually values honesty." He pulls away, glancing at the banner.

"And you?" You tilt your head.

"I don't care." He grins. "Want me to get in with Daddy's money?"

"Want you to join me next year with just your grades."

"Want me to leave the city behind for you?"

"Yeah."

"Just to join you?"

"Yeah."

"One year, babe."

"Bet."

You take a photo with him at your school when you move, scribbling 1 year in pencil on the picture.

A year later, Jason's your dormmate, a new photo pinned on the mini bulletin board in the room.

Jason presses his lips to your forehead as you shift in the morning sun, smile on his lips as he greets you. You mumble a greeting back, falling asleep again. His lips pull into a gentle smile, closing his own eyes. His breathing syncs with yours, hearts beating together, the rays of the morning sun warming his skin as he shields you from the light. You never liked waking up because the curtains were too sheer.

For him, even getting you a star in the sky seemed like a menial task.

After all, if you were happy, so was he.

And as he feels your body relax into the mattress, he's sure you'd say the same for him.

#jason todd x reader #jason x reader #hate basic ass names #todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dc x reader #☾.fics

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