#tw; cigarette smoking

[sixpennydame]

Heart. Strings.

Levi x fem!reader

Available on AO3

Synopsis: Levi has never cared for or been interested in music, until he hears you play. But when he meets you, it’s not only your music that he wants more of.

Word Count: 4.4K

Contents/Warnings: 18+ only, Minors do not interact, virgin!Levi, AOT canon universe, smut, first-time sexual experiences, oral sex (F and M receiving), soft couple sex, brief cigarette smoking

“Erwin, this might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever asked me to do,” Levi huffs.

“I would rather fight a hundred titans than go to this stupid party,” he says, as he puts on his dress uniform coat. “These rich assholes disgust me. Can’t you and Hange do this without me?”

Erwin smirks to himself. “We could, but then I wouldn’t get to see you uncomfortably shake hands with all those ‘assholes.’” Levi gives Erwin a dirty look. “I don’t enjoy these events any more than you, but Gareth Bisinger is one of the richest men in the inner walls and he has influence in the government. If we can gain his and his circle’s support, we can ensure funding for future expeditions.”

“But I don’t know why I have to be involved in this.”

“Because you’re humanity’s strongest soldier. The people love you.”

Levi clicks his tongue. “You owe me.”

Erwin looks out the window. “The carriage is here - we should get going.”

They’re taken to a large residence in the center of town while people dressed in their finest clothes are making their way inside. Hange is waiting for them at the entrance.

“About time you both made it, I’m starving! I hope there’s good food here,” Hange says, as the footmen lead them inside the residence.

Levi sniffs. “Four-eyes, you actually bathed for this? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Well, when you’re rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, you gotta pull out all the stops,” they say proudly.

The three make their way to the ballroom, and Levi can hear the whispers starting: “Is that the Captain Levi?” “I heard he killed 20 titans on his own in the last expedition.” “He’s shorter than I thought.” “But he’s handsome - is he single?”

“See? I knew it was a good idea to bring you along,” Erwin says triumphantly. Levi glares at him.

“I’m going to get a drink.”

Hange looks at Levi with surprise. “But you don’t drink.”

“I do tonight.”

—-

Gareth walks to a corner of the ballroom with a beautiful grand piano and introduces the musicians. You and your partner bow as he sits at the piano. You bring your violin to your shoulder, lift your bow, and begin to play.

Levi grabs his drink from the bar but immediately turns around when the music starts. He’s never heard such a lovely sound. A crowd has begun to gather around you as you continue to play and he watches you close your eyes as your body sways slightly. He can feel the emotion coming from your playing and he can’t take his eyes off you. When the final note slowly fades to conclusion, he finds he’d been holding his breath just a little. The crowd claps as you and your partner bow. The next song you play is faster, more upbeat. Again, your energy is palpable as it reaches Levi’s ears and enters his body. He never had much interest in music before, but he had no idea it could have such power and emotion. With every song he was awestruck.

You bow and announce that you will play again after a short break. You talk to a few people then walk outside to the large balcony to get some air. Although you love having any opportunity to play, you hate these kinds of crowds: rich people who just want to show off. You don’t notice the man leaning on the railing beside you until he speaks.

“How do you do that? Play like that?”

You look over and see a man with a slim build in a dress military uniform. It has the wings of freedom on the shoulder. He moves closer to you.

“I’ve never heard anything like that before.” It’s dark on the balcony, but his eyes are piercing.

“Lots of practice,” you reply matter-of-factly. “I’ve been playing since I was six years old. My brother is the one playing the piano and we work off each other well. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you open a slender, gold case and take out a cigarette.

“Those aren’t good for your health,” the man replies dryly.

You light your cigarette, your eyes moving across his uniform. “Yeah well, fighting titans isn’t good for your health either…yet here we both are,” you take a long drag and let the smoke dissipate into the air. “At least smoking gives me a chance to escape these moronic rich people. They wouldn’t know good music if it slapped them in the face, but they pay the bills, so..”

You look him up and down, in a way that Levi thought was a bit sultry. “So what brings you here? No offense, but this doesn’t look like your kind of crowd.”

“Funding for our expeditions. We’re looking for some deep pockets,” he looks at your form in the moonlight: one hand resting on the railing, the other elegantly holding your cigarette. For some reason he feels a bit tongue tied but he doesn’t want the conversation to end. “Do you play at these kinds of places often?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. We tour around but our home base is here in Mitras. I prefer playing in public halls or performance spaces where just the regular folks can watch us. When you can feel the energy of the audience, there’s nothing like it.” You throw your cigarette on the ground and put it out with your foot. “We have two more concerts in town later this week - you should come,” you smile at Levi, then see your brother trying to get your attention. “Oh shit, time for the second act,” you take the drink in Levi’s hand and down it in one gulp, “Thanks for the drink. I hope I’ll see you around,” you say as you walk back into the ballroom.

Levi looks down at his empty glass while the slightest smile forms across his lips. You’re sarcastic, and irreverent. Not at all what he was expecting.

He likes it.

The rest of the night, Levi follows Erwin around as he makes introductions, but his attention is fully on you and your music. When the end of the night came and everyone was returning to their carriages, you had already gone.

“Well I’d say the evening was a success, wouldn’t you, Levi?” Erwin asks as the three enter their carriage.

“It…wasn’t all bad,” is all Levi can think to say.

—

“Sis, it looks like a full house tonight. You ready?” your brother says excitedly. He takes your hands and blows on them.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you blow on his fingers. It’s always been a good-luck thing you’ve done since you were kids.

You both walk onto the stage. As you glance out, you see a short, black-haired man with his arms crossed sitting toward the back. You smile, then start to play.

After the performance, you and your brother go out to mingle with the audience. You see Levi sitting at a table and walk over to him, two drinks in your hand.

“You came,” you say, handing him the other drink. “So, what did you think this time?”

“You were right - you sound better playing for an audience like this. I…enjoyed it,” he takes a sip of his drink.

“You know, you never introduced yourself the other night. For all I know you could be some kind of stalker,” you lean your arms on the table, moving closer to him. He frowns. “But my brother told me all about you. You’re kind of a big deal…Captain Levi.”

“Tch, please. People have big mouths and think they know me,” Levi crosses his arms.

“Apparently, you have quite the fan club - especially with the ladies,” you smirk. At that, he clicks his tongue. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He looks at you and scowls. “As if I would have time for a girlfriend. My job doesn’t really work with romantic relationships.”

“I know what you mean, relationships are complicated and messy. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun every once in a while,” under the table, you put your hand on his leg. His body stiffens, but he doesn’t move it away.

“You’re… very forward,” he says, looking at you.

“When I see something I want, I go for it. Life’s too short and unpredictable to play games. You of all people should know that,” you move closer to him, speaking sultrily into his ear. “Come to my dressing room after the concert tomorrow night. I’ll be waiting for you,” moving away from him, you bite your lower lip and give him a quick smile. “I need to go mingle. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you take your hand off of his leg.

“Who says I’m coming tomorrow?” Levi replies, keeping his cool.

You turn around and smile at him as you walk into the crowd.

Levi can still feel the heat of your hand on his leg.

—

The concert the next night finishes without a hitch. Your brother mentions that you were playing your violin with a new vitality and energy, but you brush it off, saying you were just having a good day.

“And that wouldn’t have anything to do with Captain Levi, would it?” he teases.

You’re about to reply, when suddenly there’s a knock at the door. Your brother opens it and Levi is standing there, arms crossed.

Your brother gives you a knowing glance. “Captain Levi! We were just tal-”

“Ok, why don’t you go greet our patrons for a bit,” you interrupt, “Levi, please come in.”

“Yeah, I can take a hint,” your brother says as he leaves the room and closes the door.

You walk over to the mirror and start wiping off your lipstick. “I wasn’t sure you’d come, to be honest.”

“Yeah well, you left an impression last night,” he walks over to you.

You watch him in the mirror. “Is that right? And what kind of impression is that?”

“You’re blunt and cocky. Usually I hate that, but with you…” he doesn’t know what to say. Seeing you in your green silk dress, the straps falling lazily off your shoulders as you lean over to look in the mirror has him tongue tied again.

You turn around and lean against the low dressing room table. “I’d prefer to call it confidence. Like I said, I know what I want.”

He moves closer. “And what do you want?”

You smile and grab his hand to pull him against you. You kiss him, gently at first; he reciprocates awkwardly but once started, it’s as if a fire is lit inside Levi. He grabs the back of your neck, kissing you passionately as his other hand moves to your waist. Your tongues mingle and hands begin to explore each other’s bodies: you run your fingers through his undercut, while he shyly moves his hands from your waist to your derriere.

Feeling your body beneath your silky dress makes him instantly hard, and his cock begins to strain in his pants. You feel it push against your leg and move one of your hands down to caress it.

At this, Levi’s breath hitches and he stops kissing you for a moment. He’s never had someone else touch him before and it surprises and excites him. You notice his reaction and move your other hand over to undo his pants.

You can tell that Levi is trying to keep his composure cool as you slowly move down the zipper. You reach into his underwear and feel his hard cock, which twitches at your touch. He holds his breath for a moment, then releases it in a long sigh as you begin to move your hand up and down his shaft.

Your touch is driving him crazy and it takes everything within him not to want to cum right there. He wants more of you so he starts kissing your neck. You feel his lips work from below your ear down to your clavicle, then kissing the other side. His hands begin to move up to your breasts, roughly massaging them. It’s then you realize that this man has not had much - if any- experience with women.

So you decide to show him how good another person can make him feel.

You push him back away from the dressing table and kneel in front of him, pulling down his pants and underwear.

Levi feels a bit embarrassed and vulnerable at first, looking at the closed dressing room door with worry. “Oi, what do you think you’re doing -”

He’s stopped mid-sentence when he feels you use your tongue to lick from the bottom of his shaft to the tip. You look up at him with a smile as you take the head of his cock into your mouth, gently sucking and then exploring the tip with your tongue.

You take your time, licking the shaft then sucking the tip again and again. You can hear his breathing getting heavier and then his hand goes to the back of your head.

That’s the cue you need, and you put his cock fully in your mouth.

It has girth but is the perfect size for you to suck it fully, and you can tell by the grip he has on your hair that this is exactly what he wants. You begin to bob your head in and out as his hand guides you on how deep or shallow he wants you to go.

Levi never knew he could feel such pleasure, and although he absolutely loves looking at you as you give him head, he has to close his eyes a few times as you take his cock deep into your mouth. He opens them abruptly when he feels your hands begin to massage his balls. You stroke them at a downward angle as you continue to suck his cock and you hear him let out an audible grunt.

You stop what you’re doing as he looks down at you. “Do you like that?”

“Y-yes,” he replies with a blush, “please…don’t stop yet.”

You take his cock back into your mouth and decide to experiment: you roll his balls in your hands, which earns another grunt, but it’s when you gently pull that you get a different response from him.

You move his cock out of your mouth with a pop, saliva still connecting it to you. “Did I hurt you?”

“Yes…but no…it feels good.”

You smile up at him. “I want to make you feel good, Levi.”

You begin sucking again and this time you feel his hand grip your hair tighter encouraging you to pick up the pace. As your head bobs, he thrusts his hips into you. You begin to moan and hum, and this sends him over the edge. His warm cum bursts into your mouth and down your throat.

Levi takes a deep breath as he loosens his grip and smooths out your hair. His low, relaxed voice says your name and you swear it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard in your life. As he pulls up his underwear and pants, there’s a knock on the door.

“Miss, we’re closing up for the night,” you hear the stage manager’s soft voice say on the other side of the door.

“Yes. We’re leaving now.” You go to grab your jacket and Levi takes you by the waist.

“Let’s go to your place. We’re not finished yet.”

There’s a change in his voice: it’s primal and confident. Without a word you take his hand and lead him out of the dressing room and through the back exit of the theater, where you find a carriage to take you both to your apartment.

In the privacy of the covered carriage, your bodies converge in a flurry of kisses and touches. You notice that Levi kisses as if it’s the last time he will ever have this experience - there’s a desperation and intensity to it. His hand moves up your leg while his mouth moves down your neck. Not to be outdone, you decide to mark him by sucking hard on his neck. He winces, and then smiles.

So Levi likes a little pain with his pleasure.

When the carriage stops in front of your apartment, you both quickly compose yourselves. As you put your key in the door, you feel Levi’s hand resting on your lower back; a sweet, protective gesture.

The minute you take off your jacket and show your bare shoulders, Levi is behind you kissing them. You turn around, take his hand, and lead him to your bedroom.

As you enter, you light a candle. “So…you said we’re not finished?”

He moves over to you and hooks his fingers around the straps of your dress. “We’re just getting started.” He pulls the straps down off your shoulders, and your dress falls to the ground.

The room is dark, illuminated only by the candle and the light of the full moon through the window. He gazes, awestruck, at the way the light moves across the curves of your breasts and hips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says as he touches your breasts.

You pull off his ascot, unbutton his shirt, and marvel at his physique. He’s muscular, and you can’t help but run your hands down his chest, as you work on taking off his pants.

“I want you…all of you.”

You can hear the desire in his voice.

You lay down on the bed and open your legs. “So take me,” you invite.

Levi positions himself on top of you and you can almost hear his thoughts:

“What should I do? Where does she want to be touched? What if she doesn’t like it?”

You reach down to touch yourself as Levi watches you, then you take your finger and rest it on Levi’s lips.

“You can start down there.”

Levi takes your finger into his mouth and tastes your juices. He grabs your wrist and kisses down your arm, then your breasts and stomach, leaving kiss marks and bites along the way. When he finally makes it to your sex, it’s already throbbing in anticipation.

Levi pulls down your underwear and when he sees your pussy he immediately buries his head in between your legs, lapping around your folds and clit but taking it slow and deliberate.

Your hand grabs the back of his head when his tongue hits your clit. “Yes, Levi, right there.”

When his tongue flicked your clit and you moaned his name, it gave Levi the confidence to lick faster, his tongue exploring your labia. He listens intently to your moans and notices that when you arch your back, it means you want more. He decides to start fingering you as he sucks on your clit, and you arch your back even more.

“Oh god, Levi, yes..” is all you can mutter as he curls his finger and finds your g-spot.

You can tell he’s inexperienced, but he’s certainly a fast learner.

You feel your orgasm throughout your whole body as you grip tightly on Levi’s hair. You become light headed and your vagina quivers along with the rest of your body.

Levi feels your muscles contract around his fingers and tastes your juices flowing into his mouth. He looks up at you. “What happened?”

You smile. “You gave me an amazing orgasm, is what happened.”

He sits up and wipes his mouth. “We’re not finished…are we?”

“Oh hell no,” you say as you look at his fully hard cock. “I’m going to need you to fuck me now.”

“I can do that.” He takes some of your juices and begins to rub them over his cock. “Tell me…how you want it.”

“Come here,” you purr as you lead him to get on top of you. He begins to grind against your sex, wetting his cock with your juices even more. You reach down and guide his cock into you, his girth stretching your walls and you both let out a moan as he pushes in slowly.

“That’s good…let’s go slow at first..”

He cages your head with his arms as he kisses you deeply, his hips thrusting in a slow rhythm that feels so good.

Levi has never felt anything so satisfying in his entire life. Then you grab a pillow to put under your hips and it changes the angle, allowing him to go even deeper. His heart begins to pound; he has to go faster, and so he picks up the pace.

You respond by wrapping your legs around his waist. “Mmmm, yes, Levi, shit..”

God he loves hearing you moan his name. He begins to thrust harder, faster, beads of sweat forming on his neck and chest. You’re so wet for him, his cock easily slides in and out; the sound echoes throughout the small bedroom and mingles with your moans.

“Levi…you feel so good,” you praise, “now let’s try a new position.”

You sit up and guide Levi to lay down on the bed. Your sultry, passionate eyes look down on him and you place your hands on his chest as you lift up and then sit on his cock.

“Fuck..” is all Levi can mutter, watching you move up and down, your breasts bouncing in rhythm. He digs his fingers into your hips; he can feel his orgasm coming, but he’s not ready yet. He sits up and you adjust by wrapping your legs around him. Forehead to forehead, chest to chest, you both grind against each other deep and hard.

You cum first, the euphoria spreading from the top of your head to the soles of your feet, and Levi feels your vaginal walls expand and contract. He can no longer contain himself.

“I’m gonna cum,” he breathlessly announces and he pulls out just in time for you to feel the warm liquid against both of your stomachs.

He feels light headed and relaxed, as if all the pressures and pains of the world have melted away. His head in the crook of your neck, he tastes your sweat on his lips and hears your breathing slow down. He looks at you, moving away sweaty strands of hair from your face. “That was…”

He wants to tell you that you made him feel something that he’s never felt before; that your body gave him pleasure in ways he didn’t know was possible, even in his wildest dreams.

“…really good.”

Idiot. Why do you make him so tongue-tied?

You smile at him. “Better than good, I’d say,” you slowly separate your body from his. “Come on, let’s take a bath.”

Both of you bask in your post-orgasm high as you soak in the tub, taking turns to wash each other. Levi begins to relax and open up more as you both talk about your lives and responsibilities. Neither of you knows how late it is by the time you get out, and it doesn’t seem like either of you care.

“It’s late. I guess you’ll have to get going,” you say as you dry off, trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You’d only planned for this to be a one-night stand, but now you’re finding that you want him to stay.

“I wasn’t planning on it. Unless.. you want me to.”

You turn around to look at him. Your head tells you to say goodnight and send him on his way. But your heart..

“You can stay.”

Your heart flutters when he takes you back to the bed and you both get under the covers.

Idiot, you think to yourself.

The rest of the night is a cycle of talking, kissing, touching, and napping until you both finally doze off in each other’s arms.

——

It’s early morning and the sun hasn’t even risen yet, but you hear Levi get out of the bed and go to clean himself in the washroom. When he returns, he’s dressed in his white shirt and black blazer, his ascot neatly tied around his neck.

“I should go. My superiors will wonder where I’ve been all night, and we return to Trost in a few hours.”

You sit up in the bed and wrap the sheets around you. “Look Levi, I want you to know that I’m not trying to con you into a relationship. What we have…what we did…there’s no strings attached. I don’t expect anything from you.”

He sits on the bed. “I understand. But if the opportunity arises, I’d like to see you again.” He kisses you. “No strings attached.”

He gets up, and walks out the door.

——

A few months later in Survey Corps Headquarters, Levi is sitting through another boring meeting. He tries to focus, but his mind keeps wandering to that night with you; in fact, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tries.

“…so keeping that in mind, I need someone to make the trip to Mitras and speak with the top brass about plans for next month's expedition. Any volunteers?” Erwin asks of his officers.

Mitras? Before he even has time to think, Levi replies, “I’ll do it.”

Erwin raises a suspicious eyebrow. “You, Levi? But you’ve said before, and I quote: ‘I would rather brush a titan’s teeth than talk with any of those arrogant mother fuckers.’”

Levi leans back in his chair. “Well I guess I had a change of heart. You said yourself, they’re all enamored with me over there,” he rolls his eyes, “might as well take advantage of it.”

“Ok then, make preparations to leave tomorrow.”

Hange chimes in, “But if you ever really want to brush a titan’s teeth, Levi, I’d love to join you!”

——

You’re practicing at home on a new piece you and your brother are working on. It should be easy for you, but for some reason you just can’t seem to get it right. Every time you close your eyes to focus on the music, you see Levi’s face, feel his touch. Although his kiss marks have faded, it seems that he’s left other marks on you.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door. It’s a telegram delivery for you:

I’ll be in Mitras by the end of the week. I expect to see you.

~L

You smile as you close the telegram. No strings attached.

Well, maybe just a little string.

[spinchip]

Smoking is bad for you, Kai.

[diariodemaconheiro]

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN | 『GIANT』 Music Video

[howlingtothevoid]

Tired of being used? Me too, pass the bottle

[abnomi]

the only thing keeping him alive are his cartoon physics

[mikaeled]

Arctic Eggs (2024)

[hyolks]

country boyyyy i love youuuu

[moonstruckme]

can you write remus and reader sharing a cigarette together, something about that is just so intimate to me i want to cry

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: smoking

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 808 words

Remus can feel you looking at him in his periphery. He sighs, sending smoke billowing out into the dark alleyway, even as he feels the corner of his mouth tilt up. 

“We’re terrible influences on you,” he says. 

“You’re terrible influences,” James corrects him, standing upwind and looking at him and Sirius like they’re contagious. “I am nothing but good to her.” 

“Come on.” You grin at Remus, and yeah, that mischief in your eyes is definitely a result of spending too much time with their bunch. “I just wanna try.” 

Lately, you’ve been campaigning for a cig every time he’s having one. You’d never thought about it before you had friends who smoked, but now you’re curious, and he and Sirius’ regular smoke breaks don’t help matters. If Remus was a better friend, he’d show more restraint. 

“Mm, ‘fraid this is my last one,” he says, not lying but definitely not upset about it. 

You roll your eyes. “Sirius?” 

The glow of Sirius’ cherry lights his eyes with a smug amusement. “Don’t look at me, doll. He’ll be pissy if I give you one.” 

Remus has to suppress a grin when you turn back to him, arms crossed over your chest. “Really? I could just go get a pack on my own, you know.” 

Remus exhales smoke out one side of his mouth, watching you from the corner of his eye as he does. You look back at him, obstinate if a bit playful. 

“Fine,” he says. “We can share this one, if you want to try so badly.” 

Your expression falters, and he thinks he might have won, your bashfulness about your crush on him overpowering your want, but then challenge glints in your eye and Remus knows he hasn’t. Competitiveness is another thing you’ve picked up from their group (Remus likes to think that’s more James and Sirius than himself), and now once you’ve caught a whiff of a challenge there’s no deterring you. 

“Perfect,” you reply brightly. 

Remus tries once more. “You sure?” 

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “You’ll be sending yourself down a path of corruption and lung problems.” 

“Just this once,” you promise. 

“Just this once,” Remus agrees sternly. 

You beckon, and he taps the ash off the end of his cigarette, reluctantly passing it to you. You take it between your thumb and forefinger and lift it to your lips. 

“Just take a shallow breath,” Remus warns. 

You do, the cherry glowing only dimly as you inhale cautiously. Good girl, he thinks to himself. You blow out the smoke just as slowly, features tightening as you try to keep from coughing. 

Sirius laughs at the obvious strain, and a small cough escapes you. They all clap, Sirius still chuckling and Remus with a small, begrudging smile on his face. 

“That’s actually not so bad,” you say, somewhat croakily. 

“Oh? Happy to hear it.” Remus takes the cig back from you, putting it to his own lips again and trying not to think about how yours were just on it. It’s not the first time he’s shared a cigarette, but somehow with you it feels different. He has an inkling as to why. 

As he takes it away from his mouth, you reach for it again. 

He dodges you. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“I want another,” you say. 

“No.” 

“What?” A laugh trips off your tongue, and Remus holds the cigarette aloft as you make another grab for it. “Come on, you said we’d share!” 

“I’m not done with my turn yet,” he says, taking a hearty drag. 

“You’re going to finish it off before I can have any!” 

“Don’t know what you mean.” 

You reach for it again, and this time Remus doesn’t put up as much of a fight, letting you pluck the cigarette from his mouth. If the side of your index finger grazes his upper lip, he certainly doesn’t notice. 

You’re bolder this time, exhaling some of your air before breathing in. The cherry glows a fiery orange, and Remus feels his brow furrow. 

“Slower, love,” he murmurs. 

You manage not to cough this time, which Remus can tell impresses Sirius as much as it does him, blowing the smoke off to the side like you’ve seen them do a million times. It’s terribly hot. 

You keep breathing out even after there’s no smoke left, then inhale, humming contemplatively. 

“Sort of aches in your lungs, doesn’t it?”

“That’s the beginning of the end,” James says solemnly. “You’re done for, now.” 

“She is not,” Remus chides, swiping the cig from you. “But that’ll be all.” He tuts as you protest, setting his free hand atop your head under the guise of keeping you at bay. “Don’t want to hear it. You’re too lovely to corrupt. I won’t be a part of it.” 

That shuts you up.

[sofiaruelle]

Another commission for the lovely, @flowerandthesongstress of Sam, Sebastian and Abigail enjoying the afternoon sun.

The companion piece.

my commissions are Open!

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Eddie *takes a long drag of his cigarette*

Steve: You good, dude?

Eddie: My sketchers don't light up anymore

[starry-bi-sky]

Childhood Friends Danny and Jason

(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it)

Now on ao3 :) (and with a response and a third one)

AND ALSO A REMASTERED VERSION THAT YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK OUT BECAUSE I WORKED VERY HARD ON IT.

This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+

this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.

Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.

While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.

(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)

So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.

When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.

(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)

Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.

Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.

(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)

He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)

He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.

Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.

Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.

They... sort it out eventually.

Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.

When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.

Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.

(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)

When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.

"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"

She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.

(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)

(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)

he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.

They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.

Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.

He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.

The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.

His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.

And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.

Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.

Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.

His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.

Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.

"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"

"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.

"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.

Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.

There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.

Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.

Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.

The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.

He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.

Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."

Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.

He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.

He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.

Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."

Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."

Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.

"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."

And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.

Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.

Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.

At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.

Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."

"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."

At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.

"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.

It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.

And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.

Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.

There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.

The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.

He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.

The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.

"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."

Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."

"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"

Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.

Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."

Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."

Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.

When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.

By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."

The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.

Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.

Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.

Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.

When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.

He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?

When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.

"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."

There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"

There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."

Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"

When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.

Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.

He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.

Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.

"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."

Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.

Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."

Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.

Danny never returns to Gotham.

Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.

Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.

Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.

That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.

Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.

A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.

Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.

They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"

Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.

Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.

"It was the Joker." Jason says.

That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."

It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.

Not died. Killed.

Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.

They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.

And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.

And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.

His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.

Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.

(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)

When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.

He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.

"Don't give me that look." "That stuff kills, you know" "I'm already dead."

It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.

Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"

If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.

But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?

Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.

He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.

Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.

"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."

"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."

"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.

His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.

Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.

The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.

The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.

Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."

"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."

Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.

He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.

He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.

Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."

Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.

"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."

An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"

Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.

Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.

"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."

He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.

"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."

Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.

He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.

Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."

"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."

"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."

"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”

Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.

Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.

The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.

“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”

Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.

He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.

There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”

Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”

“Not Dick?”

“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”

Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”

“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”

“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”

“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.

He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.

Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.

It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.

He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”

Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.

“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—“

“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”

Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.

———————

(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.

Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]

Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.

Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?

Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.

Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.

Dick: they are funny

Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.

Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?

There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.

Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?

Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?

Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here

Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol

Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence

Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised

His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.

Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.

Jason: that’s danny?

Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.

Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming

Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here

Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive

Tim: how would you know that?

Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter

Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay

Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.

Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first

Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.

Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)

———————

Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.

It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.

He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.

Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.

The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.

He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.

Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.

His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.

He misses Jason. He misses Jason.

Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.

Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.

He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.

He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.

Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.

“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”

Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.

It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.

Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.

Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”

He’s already begun to move towards the door.

The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.

He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.

“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”

…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”

The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.

He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.

He frowns. And says nothing.

When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.

The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.

Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.

His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.

“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.

Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.

Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.

‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’

Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?

“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”

The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”

He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.”

The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.

Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.

The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”

“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”

He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.

[menchie]

Straight Guys Are Back | Bit City

[minerayana]

[slytherinboysappreciation]

JEGRNEISUB smoker mattheo riddle x non smoker gn/male reader who start dating but since reader doesn't smoke they try to force mattheo to stop smoking by not kissing him on the lips

Like imagine him wanting to kiss you on the lips since before y'all started dating and now that he's dating you he can't cs he smokes and you hated kissing your smoker ex before you met him AND whenever you dobkiss him it's always on the corner of his lips and he tries to turn his head but you stop all contact and he js whines and begs but you stand your ground until he goes cold turkey

Cold turkey mattheo is always jittery and annoyed to the point his friends are complaining about him to you but mattheo finaly gets his kisses from you and he just thinks "damn this was worth it"

Now everytime he gets a nicotine craving he je kisses you HELPEHELPEHELP

(You should totally write this *winks*)

(No pressure though)

Smoker - M. R. x gn!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! I hope this is what you were wanting! I’m sorry about the ending; I’ve been on a streak of not knowing how to end fics well, apparently.

Fic is entirely unedited with no use of Y/N. Please let me know if I missed tagging something!!! Gif found on Pinterest here

CW: Lots of mentions of smoking and cigarettes; one mention of getting high; one mention of future death due to smoking; mentions of reader’s ex; mentions of kissing; kissing; angst, I guess??; pet names; Mattheo’s puppy eyes; begging; Theo gets rather frustrated in this; annoyed words towards reader; cursing; mentions of complaining; lots of kissing at the end; Mattheo being soft

1493 words

You’ve been dating Mattheo for almost a week now, and you’re getting tired of his smoking habits.

Since before you began dating, you’ve done everything you can to dissuade him from the habit. Everything aside from going and throwing away his stash yourself, that is.

But it’s no use. Theo chainsmokes like he’s planning his early death, and Enzo gets high every other day. Neither of them are much help when it comes to getting Mattheo to quit.

It’s not that you hate the smoking itself; it’s that you hate the smell. The lingering stench of acrid smoke that follows Mattheo no matter how many times he brushes his teeth or changes his clothes.

It lingers in his hair. On his skin.

It disgusts you. Your ex had been a smoker and the stench of cigarettes had followed him everywhere. Now the smell reminds you of him and his horrid habits.

You don’t want Mattheo to be connected to such a person, but he won’t listen to you when you beg him to quit.

So you resort to drastic measures.

It starts after class. Mattheo and Theo head off to go smoke, leaving you to hatch your plans.

And oh what a good plan you hatch.

It’s simple, really. But you’re pretty sure it’ll be effective. After all, there’s nothing Mattheo loves more than kissing you.

He returns with just enough time to walk you to your next class. You chat idly as you walk, going on about the new music album Pansy had shared with you. Mattheo nods along, smiling as he listens to you talk.

When you reach your class, Mattheo leans in for a kiss like he normally does, but you turn your head. His kiss lands on your cheek, rather than your lips.

He pulls back, startled and confused. “Babe?”

“Hmm?” You go to head into class, but he grabs your arm.

“What’s wrong?” He looks so concerned, his puppy eyes already starting to show.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You lean up and kiss his cheek. Mattheo tries to turn his head to catch your lips but you pull back.

“See you after class, Matty.”

“But…” He trails after you. “Did I do something?”

Your heart aches. Why does he have to look so pitiful when he’s sad?

“Matty…”

“Mr Riddle.” It’s your professor, looking vaguely annoyed. “Last time I checked you weren’t in this class.”

Mattheo opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off by kissing his cheek again. “I’ll talk with you after class. I promise.”

He wilts a bit, still giving you his sad puppy eyes. But, slowly, he turns and leaves the classroom.

You take your seat, already feeling miserable. This plan is going to be harder than you thought.

Mattheo ambushes you after class is over. He’s there at the door, grabbing your arm and hauling you along after him. A small handpicked bouquet of flowers is stuffed into your hands.

“Matty, what the—“

He pulls you into an empty classroom and turns to face you, giving you the saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “What did I do, baby? Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches. With a sigh, you set down the flower bouquet on a desk and reach out to cup his face in your hands. “You didn’t do anything, love.”

“Then why won’t you let me kiss you?” He leans in, as if to try right then.

You pull back a bit, covering his mouth with your hand. You take a deep breath and gather your courage. “I don’t like it when you smoke, Matty.”

His brow furrows, but you continue. “I’ve tried everything I can, but you just won’t listen. So, until you stop smoking, I’m not going to kiss you anymore.”

Mattheo stares at you. He pulls your hand away from his mouth. “What?”

You fiddle with a curl of his hair, doing your best to hold his gaze. “No more kisses until you stop smoking.”

“But— But—“ He gapes at you in disbelief. “You— You can’t do this!”

You cross your arms, hoping you sound more stern than you feel. “I can and I am.”

“But, my kisses!”

“You can have your kisses after you stop smoking.”

Mattheo looks desperate. “Babe. Baby. My love. Come on. Please, it’s just— Smoking’s not even that big of a deal!”

“It is to me,” you say firmly. Inside, you’re dying; melting at his puppy eyes and distressed look.

“Baby, baby, please.” He takes your hands in his, giving you a pleading look. “Please don’t do this. I love your kisses.”

You can’t bear to hold his gaze any longer so you look away. “I know you do. That’s why I’m doing this. Maybe you’ll finally quit.”

“But—“

“I’ve made up my mind, Mattheo, and you’re not going to change it,” you say firmly. His expression crumples.

It hurts too much, so you gently pull your hands from his.

“I’ll see you later.” You give him a kiss on the corner of his lips. He doesn’t react, just gives you a morose stare.

You sigh and turn away. Surely, he’s just being dramatic? There’s no way this plan will work, right?

Wrong.

It takes Mattheo a week to give up his cigarettes. A week of whining and bemoaning and complaining.

A week of sad puppy eyes everytime you give him a kiss on his cheek or on the corner of his lips. A week of dodging his head turns and sneak kisses.

It’s just as painful for you as it is for him.

But, finally, he quits.

You make him wait three more days.

By the second day, Theo comes to you, scowling. “You’ve turned him into a damn right menace, you know that?”

You’re in the middle of doing your Charms homework, and have to pause to answer him. “What do you mean?”

“He’s as jittery and as pissed off as I’ve ever seen him. He nearly punched me in the face for suggesting he chill out.”

You blink. “He’s… Oh, from the withdrawal.”

“Yeah, from the withdrawal,” Theo says sarcastically. “You’ve turned him into a menace!”

You cross your arms. “Maybe if you hadn’t gotten him addicted, he wouldn’t be so cross right now.”

“It’s just a few bloody cigarettes a day!” Theo snaps back. “What’s it to you?”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t—“ Theo cuts himself off and sighs. “Bloody hell. You’re almost as bad as he is.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it in a good way,” he amends. “You’re stubborn as hell and fight for what you want. I can see why he likes you so much.”

You scowl, but let him go without comment.

More of Mattheo’s friends try complaining to you about him, but find you wholly unsympathetic. You’re firm in your stance about Mattheo quitting, much to their frustration.

But it’s all worth it when you finally let Mattheo have his kisses.

You’re expecting the bombardment of kisses from Mattheo. You’re not expecting the genuine relief in his expression when you kiss him on the lips again.

He sighs happily and gives you a dreamy look. “Merlin, I love your lips. I’d give up cigarettes a thousand times for your kisses.”

Your cheeks heat. “Matty…”

“Nuh-uh.” He leans in to kiss you again. And again. And again. “I get to have my special time with your lips. No denying my compliments allowed.”

You laugh softly and melt into his next kiss. “Alright. I suppose I can deal with that.”

Mattheo just grins into the kiss and pulls you closer.

For the next few days after your reconciliation, Mattheo is incessant about kissing you.

It’s immediately after class, during study sessions, after meals, and before bed. Anytime he can get his hands on you, his mouth finds yours.

It’s only when Pansy makes a comment about it that you finally think to ask Mattheo about it.

You’re studying in your room with him. Well, you’re studying; he’s pressing soft kisses to your cheek and jaw.

“Are you really that obsessed with kissing me?”

Mattheo leans in to kiss your cheek again. “Always, babe.”

You nudge him, smiling. “No, be serious. Not that I mind it, but you’ve been very clingy these past few days. Why?”

He hums and nuzzles along your jawline. “I get these cravings. Every time I used to smoke. But I quit, so now I kiss you instead.”

You pause, pulling away to properly look at him. Your gaze is soft, affectionate. “You… You keep from smoking again… by kissing me?”

He blushes a bit and leans in to give you a kiss on the lips. “Well, yeah…”

“That’s actually kinda cute.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles.

“So, does it work? Kissing me?”

“Yeah, but…” he smirks. “I should probably try again, you know, just to make sure.”

You make no protest when he kisses you deeply. He deserves it, after all.

And not just for his smooth comment.

[moodyvoid]

Dabi and Twice sharing the last cigarette.

Dabi: “You’re smoking too much of it.”

Twice: “I’ve smoked just as much of it as you have.”

Dabi: “You just took the biggest drag I’ve ever seen. You almost inhaled the entire cigarette.”

Twice: “As if you need more smoke in your lungs!”

Dabi, gasps, feigning offense.

Twice, also gasps: “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that! Here.”

Twice hands him the cigarette.

Dabi, dropping the offended act and walking away with the cigarette: “Thanks.”

Twice: “You’re welcome! Hey, get back here! That came from my pack!!”