#Robin is not afraid to throw hands

[millythegoat]

Mo Salah, still Dawin's voice of reason

exhibit 1 exhibit 2

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤYOUNG LOVEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Robins x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would They Be As Your Boyfriend?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Affection Overload: Dick is all about physical affection. Hugs, kisses, holding hands—he’s constantly touching you. If you’re in public, expect him to have an arm around your waist or your hand in his at all times.

Grand Gestures: He loves making big romantic statements. Random flowers delivered to your class? Check. Swinging into your bedroom window just to say goodnight? Double check.

Jealousy Level: Surprisingly chill, but only because he’s confident. If someone flirts with you, he’ll swoop in with a smug smile and casually remind them that you’re his.

Protective Side: He’s sweet and easygoing most of the time, but the second he thinks you’re in danger, he turns into serious protector mode. He’s not above scaring people off if necessary.

Clingy but Cute: He hates being away from you. Even if you’re just apart for a day, he’ll text or call constantly. "Miss me yet? Because I miss you."

The Cheerleader Boyfriend: Dick is your biggest fan. Whether you’re pursuing a hobby, trying something new, or just having a bad day, he’s there hyping you up like, “You’re amazing, don’t forget that.”

Drama King: If you ever fight, expect him to show up at your door with flowers, chocolates, and the saddest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. He cannot stand the idea of you being upset with him.

— JASON TODD ⋆

Acts Tough but Is a Softie: Jason tries to play it cool, but deep down, he’s so soft for you. You’ll catch him staring at you like you hung the moon, and he’ll deny it every time.

Overprotective: Jason is feral when it comes to your safety. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s ready to throw hands. “You okay, babe? Need me to deal with them?”

Big on Small Gestures: He’s not a grand-gesture kind of guy, but he’ll quietly leave your favorite snacks on your desk or slip a note into your bag that says, "Have a good day, idiot."

Jealousy Level: Off the charts. Jason tries to play it cool, but the second someone flirts with you, his hand is on your waist, and his glare is lethal.

Supportive but Real: Jason is your rock. He’ll always be there for you, but he’s not afraid to call you out if he thinks you’re being too hard on yourself. “Stop beating yourself up. You’re amazing. End of story.”

Loves Quiet Time Together: He’s happiest when it’s just the two of you curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading. Those moments mean the world to him.

Secretly Romantic: Jason pretends he’s not into cheesy romance, but he’ll randomly do something that makes your heart melt, like showing up with a book he thought you’d like or quoting poetry at the most unexpected times.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Awkwardly Affectionate: Damian isn’t great at expressing his feelings verbally, so his affection comes in the form of small, thoughtful actions. He’ll make sure your tea is brewed perfectly or bring you handmade gifts.

Possessive but Polite: Damian hates sharing your attention. If someone flirts with you, he’ll politely (but firmly) remind them who you belong to. “I believe you’re wasting your time. She’s spoken for.”

Jealousy Level: High but controlled. Instead of losing his temper, he’ll subtly outshine whoever is trying to steal your attention. “Ah, yes, you’ve met my girlfriend. Isn’t she magnificent?”

Protective in a Subtle Way: He’s not loud about it, but Damian is always watching out for you. If someone wrongs you, he’ll handle it quietly and efficiently. “You’ll find they’re no longer a problem.”

Always Wants to Impress You: Damian is constantly trying to prove himself to you, whether it’s through his art, his fighting skills, or his intellect. He’s desperate for your approval, even if he pretends he’s not.

Secretly Vulnerable: Behind his confident exterior, Damian is terrified of losing you. He doesn’t know how to handle those emotions, so he’ll sometimes withdraw until you reassure him.

Over-the-Top Romantic in Private: When it’s just the two of you, Damian lets his walls down. He’ll read you poetry, kiss your hand, and whisper how much you mean to him.

How They’re Similar

All of them are incredibly protective of you and hate seeing you hurt or upset.

They’re obsessed with making you happy and will go out of their way to ensure you feel loved.

Whether they’re soft and sweet or intense and dramatic, they all love you with their whole heart—and they’re not afraid to show it.

— MASTERLIST ☆⁠

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[confused-wanderer]

It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Or

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

OR

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

[steddiealltheway]

Steve's not really sure when it became a thing.

Maybe it was while Eddie was in the hospital recovering from his injuries, and the kids had forced Steve onto the visiting schedule. Maybe it was after Eddie got out of the hospital, and the kids insisted they continue to honor the schedule. Maybe it had nothing to do with the schedule and everything to do with the fact that Steve and Eddie had become... friends.

This is also a big maybe in Steve's head because he's pretty sure Eddie just hangs out with him from time to time because he's allowed to drink and smoke around or with him - and he's found that Eddie doesn't like to be alone for extended periods of time.

Steve can't blame him. But with his parents' seemingly permanent absence, he's kind of grown used to it whenever the kids and Robin are forced to go back to school.

But right now, Steve is grateful that Eddie has continued their "thing" in which he shows up at Steve's house at 9pm every Thursday - the same time as one of Steve's assigned "Eddie shifts" - with a six-pack in hand.

Only, this week, Eddie shows up with two bottles of wine.

Steve raises his eyebrows at him as he lets him into the house, shutting the door quickly to keep the cold air out.

"I just thought you'd like to change it up today," Eddie comments nonchalantly as he heads to the living room. Steve wonders for a moment if he knows the secret he's been keeping from everyone, but he figures he doesn't especially when he blabs on, "So, what movie are you blessing me with this week?"

Steve rolls his eyes as he goes to grab the tape and put it in the VCR, but he hesitates for a moment, straightening up to point at Eddie. "You will absolutely tell no one about this, got it? Also, I'm expecting a phone call, but you're not allowed to listen in on it."

"Got it. Scout's honor," Eddie replies with a wink and a salute.

"You were not a boy scout," Steve huffs as he decides to bite the bullet and put the tape in.

Eddie frowns and puts a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Steve. How could you say that?"

"Because I was a boy scout, and we would've been in the same troop."

Once Steve sits on the couch, Eddie leans in and nudges his shoulder. "What I wouldn't give to go back in time and meet a young Steve Harrington. I could've corrupted you sooner."

"I'm afraid Dustin beat you to the corrupting. He's the one who made me watch Star Wars."

"I can always corrupt you in other ways, Steve," Eddie comments, obnoxiously batting his eyelashes.

Steve laughs, used to the blatant flirting during the trailers at this point. "Is that why you brought the wine? To set the mood?"

"Something like that," Eddie says with a soft smile before switching back to his dramatics. "But I'll have you know, I'm a gentleman. Plus, I would like you to remember the first time I blow your mind."

"Blow my mind?" Steve asks, reaching over to grab the bottles. "How would you do that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Eddie says with a wink before uncapping his wine.

Steve glances at his own bottle for a moment, distracted. "It's a screw top."

"It's cheap," Eddie explains. He raises his bottle and tilts it Steve's way. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Steve answers, screwing off the top and taking a swig. Tastes like wine. And it also tastes like... a bad idea.

"So, what movie are we watching that has you so defensive?" Eddie asks, throwing his arm along the back of the couch.

To that, Steve takes a longer drink. "One of my mom's favorite movies. We used to watch it together whenever my dad went out of town for his business trips. But then my mom started getting more suspicious of him staying at the office late, and then she started to go on those business trips with him. Which now seem to... never end." Steve sighs and settles back onto the couch a bit more, head resting right on Eddie's hand. He quickly gets the hint and starts gently playing with his hair.

Steve's not sure when that became a thing either.

After another sip of wine, Steve finally confesses, "It's The Sound of Music."

A few expressions pass over Eddie's face before he quietly says, "That was one of my mom's favorites, too."

The two of them share a similar look of understanding and painful longing for a time they'll neither get back. They both drink at the same time as the opening notes of "The Sound of Music" ring out.

As the movie plays, the two of them drift closer - as they always do - and Steve notices that he's slowly but surely getting a bit wine-drunk. Which is what Robin calls the "worst type of drunk Steve." Maybe he should've taken her up on her offer to stay the full day.

As the last scene plays, Steve finds himself glancing toward the phone more than the screen.

"You okay?" Eddie asks gently, the hand in his hair moving to cup his face.

Steve can feel the way the wine flushes his cheeks and sits heavy on his stomach when he asks, "When do you realize your parents have given up on you?"

Eddie swallows heavily before grabbing Steve's nearly empty bottle and putting it on the coffee table. He sits back and fully turns to him. "For me, I fully realized a month after I stayed with Wayne. I still hadn't unpacked the cardboard box my things were in, hoping that maybe since my dad had dropped me off my mom would pick me up. But I hadn't seen her in years." He looks back at the TV where the end credits are rolling. "She left promising me she would come back and make a better life for the two of us eventually. I thought with my dad out of the picture, she'd be back. But as soon as I unpacked that box, I gave up on the idea."

Steve shifts closer and grabs Eddie's hand. "I'm sorry."

Eddie looks at him and tilts his head down so he's looking him right in the eye. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too. And..." he hesitates for a moment before resting his forehead against Steve's and whispering, "Happy birthday."

Steve's eyes close tightly. It's the words he had been waiting for all day but in hopes that they'd be coming out the mouths of at least one of his parents. Preferably his mom.

There's pressure behind his eyes, and Steve reaches out to squeeze Eddie's hand gently, warning him in his own way that he might fall apart. But Eddie stays where he is.

"This is the first year they haven't called," Steve whispers, feeling one tear fall down his face. "I know they're assholes but... I didn't think they'd be this much of an asshole. God," he breathes out, breaking away from Eddie to lean back against the couch, hands covering his face as more tears fall.

A familiar arm drapes itself around Steve's shoulders tugging gently until he winds up with his head buried in Eddie's neck.

They sit there for a while, Eddie holding him and running a soothing hand through his hair that reminds Steve of the first time Eddie had opened up to him about the nightmares that never went away, and they had ended up in a similar but swapped position.

Maybe that's when this became a thing.

It's a while before Steve speaks up to ask, "Hey, how do you even know when my birthday is? The last person I told was probably Tommy Hagan in the eighth grade. And Robin, of course, but I swore her to secrecy."

"Oh god," Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pull back to look at him fully. Eddie's head lulls to the side as he looks at him with an adorably embarrassed and caught expression. "So... don't hate me for this, but this happened a few years ago. And... do I really have to tell you?"

"It's my birthday, you have to tell me," Steve replies.

Eddie huffs, ever so dramatically, and grabs Steve's hands before confessing, "So, I stole your wallet a few times."

Steve can't help but laugh at the absurd confession. "When?"

"It was back in your sophomore year probably. We had some horrible science class together, and you sat right in front of me, and well... My friends and I made this hypothesis, very scientific, that some rich kids, including you, wouldn't notice if a dollar or two went missing from their wallets." Steve snorts, and Eddie smiles. "And you had this horrible habit of leaving the front pocket of your backpack open so..."

"Occasionally you would steal anywhere from one to five dollars from my wallet? And one time you managed to swipe ten," Steve fills in for him, vividly remembering something he hadn't thought about in years.

Eddie's eyes widen. "So, my hypothesis was wrong."

"No, you're just less subtle than you think you are."

There's a moment where Eddie just stares at him incredulously. "You're telling me, you let me steal from you? And you didn't beat me up for it?"

Steve shrugs, thinking about the first time it had happened, and he had truly considered it, but he realized. "I knew you needed it more than I did. But that's not what we're talking about. How did this lead you to finding out about my birthday?"

"It was on your driver's license, and I ended up memorizing it in case you had a big party that I could sell at. But then it just... stuck." Eddie looks down at their hands for a moment before he looks up and states, "And we're not about to breeze past this. I must've stolen at least thirty dollars from you!" He lets go of one of Steve's hands to grab his wallet off the coffee table. "For your birthday, let me pay you back."

Steve laughs and shakes his head. "You are not giving me thirty dollars for my birthday. And don't fight me on this, or I'll end up telling Dustin you gave me money without hesitation."

Eddie frowns at him and reluctantly puts his wallet back down. He leans over to Steve and cups his face as he plants a kiss onto his forehead. "You're never who I think you are, Steve Harrington."

"Is that a good thing?" Steve asks as his eyes glance down at his lips.

"A very good thing. It means I'll never give up on you," Eddie says with a teasing lilt but Steve knows that he means it.

"Same to you."

Eddie's teasing smile falters as he looks at Steve. One of his thumbs swipes at a remaining tear trail.

Steve's heart beats a little harder and he can't stop staring at Eddie's lips. He wonders when that became a thing.

"There's one thing you could do for me for my birthday," Steve breaths out.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks quietly.

Steve doesn't answer him, he just leans in slowly, closing his eyes when his nose brushes against Eddie's. But then he feels Eddie gently pull away.

"Earlier, I said I wanted you to remember when I blow your mind, Steve."

Steve's eyes flutter open. "I'm not that far gone."

Eddie sighs and mumbles, "I can't believe I'm doing this," and raises his voice to say, "I'll kiss you when I can't smell wine on your breath, deal?"

"Deal," Steve says, holding out his hand.

Eddie laughs as he shakes it, then grabs it to pull them both up.

"Bedtime?" Steve asks. Eddie nods, turning off the TV before leading the way to the kitchen to get two glasses of water before heading to Steve's room.

Steve knows exactly when that became a thing - the second time Eddie was over at his house, and he had a nightmare in the guest room. Steve now insists that he sleeps with him anytime he's over.

When they get into bed on their by-now-established sides, Steve can't help but say, "I think this is the best birthday I've had in a long time." He sighs and reaches out to grab Eddie's hand laying between them. "Maybe next year I'll tell everyone."

"Or we can make up a fake birthday for you that happens to fall sometime next week, and next year we'll pretend that everyone remembered the wrong date."

Steve laughs and squeezes Eddie's hand. "Or next week, I can take you on a date."

"Shh," Eddie quickly shushes him, "This definitely means it's time for you to go to bed."

"I can't wait for you to blow my mind in the morning," Steve says instead of trying and failing to fight Eddie on the fact that he's more coherent than he thinks he is. Besides, the faster he falls asleep, the sooner tomorrow will come.

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, slightly amused.

"Goodnight, Eds."

Much to Eddie's surprise, he wakes up to Steve asking for a kiss. And he very much blows his mind.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's still a couple miles from home when the van dies. The engine gives a few pitiful putters before groaning and rolling to a definitive stop. He drops his head to the steering wheel, letting out a groan of his own.

He was at the Hideout, it's like 1am, and he can't sleep out in the van, not after last time, when Powell found him.

He's walking home. The shortest route is to cut through the woods, which he hates, but the moon is out and there's still some leftover late-August mugginess in the air, so it's fine. It's fine. Not like there's anything to be scared of in the forests of Hawkins, Indiana.

He's close to home when he trips on an exposed root, scrapes his hand against the sticks and rocks on the forest floor.

"Fuck, shit," he mutters. In the weak light of the moon, he sees the gleaming red seeping from the cut on his palm. It stings. He swipes it on his jeans, keeps going.

The nature sounds go quiet all at once, like someone turned them off, and goosebumps raise on the back of his neck.

Further into the woods, off to his left, something lets out a high-pitched chitter, nothing like he's ever heard before. His heart rate skyrockets, feet moving faster now. There's a flashlight in the van he wishes he thought to bring with him; why hadn't he grabbed it?

He hears the snap and crackle of branches and dead leaves under heavy feet, the crashing through the woods growing louder as the thing moves closer. In the dark of the trees he sees a massive, hulking shape, certainly not human, running straight at him.

Eddie stumbles back--

A dark shape leaps from the woods to his right, a strangled scream slips from his throat but--

It's a...dog?

That doesn't make sense, it's too big, too--

It positions itself in front of Eddie, thick growl rumbling straight through his bones.

This close, he can see that it's a wolf, but that's wrong too. There aren't wolves in Indiana, and it's still too big, bigger than any wolf he's ever seen on Wild Kingdom.

It snarls, creeps towards the other creature still lurking between the trees.

He's terrified to move, to get the attention of either of these things, but then the wolf turns, illuminated in the moon glow. Its coat is thick, chestnut and light brown. Its eyes are bright hazel with flecks of gold, clear and intelligent. His stomach swoops, but not with fear.

It whips its attention away, but it's pressing against him, pushing him back towards civilization.

A fleshy, wet humanoid leg emerges from the tree line and the wolf makes a terrible noise as it lunges. He takes off running.

His body wasn't made for sprinting, but he keeps going until he reaches the trailer, until he throws himself through the front door. He stays there, leaning against it, until he stops shaking. He needs a joint, like ten of them, needs to forget this night ever happened, because what the fuck.

Later, when he's so high he can't move, he can't stop thinking about the wolf's eyes, that there was something weirdly familiar about them.

The next morning, he hardly remembers any of it.

When he bothers to go to school the next week, Steve Harrington says hi to him, even though they've never spoken before.

He doesn't go back into the woods.

---

Steve keeps saying hi to him, like it's normal for them. Then again, Steve now spends most of his time with this junior from band, Robin Buckley. Anyway, who the hell knows what's normal anymore.

There's this one night in early November, he's smoking on the porch, giddy from finishing a song, smiling up at the full moon.

And he's so happy, elated, electrified by creativity, that he forgets about the woods, finds himself staring right into them.

A pair of golden eyes stare back.

He's not afraid.

That same swooping sensation from before grips his stomach, doesn't let up.

The wolf steps forward, not out of the trees, just closer. Without thought, he mimics the move.

There's a soft rustle of brush and the eyes blink out. Eddie keeps staring, transfixed. His heart's speeding but not with fear.

---

By January, he's actual, real life friends with Steve Harrington. They're hanging out like that's a regular thing they do. He supposes, by now, it is.

He also meets the gaggle of eighth graders that follow Harrington around like ducklings. When they find out he runs a dnd club, they become obsessed with him too.

He doesn't see the wolf again.

---

Eventually, he forgets all about why he's supposed to avoid the woods.

He plans a deal at Skull Rock, thoughtless, and once he's there he's not scared at all. The sun is high in the sky, the air warm, birds swoop and sing and insects chirp.

Eddie clamors up the rock, pulls his notebook and a pen out of his back pocket.

He only means to stay for a little bit, maybe an hour or two, but it's so nice out, and you can't really blame a guy if his eyes get a little heavy. If maybe he doesn't quite try to fight the urge to sleep.

When he wakes up, it's full dark.

The moon is out, stars bright, but the birds are gone and so is the heat of the day. He shivers, and it's got very little to do with the cold. If he runs, he can make it back to the van in five minutes, probably less.

A creeping chitter crackles through the air and the night bugs go quiet.

Eddie curls his knees into his chest. He remembers now, why he needed to stay out of the forest.

There's a shadow that separates itself from the cover of the underbrush. It moves in silence, not even a stick or a leaf cracking where it steps. It stops in front of the rock, lips pulled back to reveal long, deadly teeth. It's growling softly.

The wolf.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says. Doesn't know why he's talking to it. "I lost track of time, I--I'm sorry."

The wolf tosses its head, annoyed, and again he's struck by the odd familiarity of the gesture. It turns its attention from him, pacing along the clearing, Its body carefully placed between Eddie and whatever is lurking in the deeper forest.

Hours pass that way, the wolf's focus never faltering even when nothing appears. The sky brightens, and the danger doesn't seem so immediate. The wolf lays down at the base of the rock formation, and Eddie finally lets himself relax too. He falls asleep between one blink and the next.

A bright beam of sunlight hits him just across the eyes, dragging him back to consciousness. There's a hazy second where he doesn't remember anything about where he is or what happened, but it's kind of hard to ignore what sleeping on a big rock does to your body.

He also realizes--he's not alone. There's someone on the rock with him. Someone sturdy and radiating heat, their body nestled tight against his.

Eddie springs up, heart racing, to find--

Steve Harrington. Naked Steve Harrington. Curled up with him on Skull Rock. What the fuck

He thinks he's going to choke on his tongue.

Steve is gorgeous. So fucking hot. All his sun-kissed skin on display, the constellations of freckles and moles, and--god, he's just a little bit hard. And Eddie gets it, okay, he knows it just happens sometimes, but Steve's a little hard, and perfectly pink at the tip, and Eddie--

He pulls the leather jacket from around his own shoulders, places it over Steve's waist, but even though he's careful--gentle--Steve stirs, nose wrinkling.

Eddie draws away, nervous, as Steve blinks to wakefulness, staring right at him.

"Wha--" he wipes the sleep from eyes his and Eddie watches as understanding dawns on Steve's handsome face. "Oh. Fuck."

And Eddie, he's putting it together, he thinks. He thinks--the familiar golden hazel eyes and the annoyed shake of the head and--it's not possible. It's not. But how is Steve here right now? Why is he naked? What reason besides--

"It's you?" He breathes, doesn't even really mean to say it aloud.

Steve gives one sharp nod, looks away.

"You're a werewolf?" Eddie's voice breaks.

"Shu--it's not--I'm--" Steve's shoulders sag. "Yeah, I guess I'm a werewolf."

"Holy shit, Steve. Holy. Shit. Are there more? Jesus Christ."

"I'm the only one that I know of."

"But-- Weren't you bitten? Or--don't tell me--were you born like this?"

"Um. I was bitten by a dog that seemed completely normal. Obviously--" he gestures to himself. "Something was going on there. We think--"

"Sorry, we? There's a we?"

"Oh, well, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan know. So do Dustin and the rest of the kids. Joyce Byers. Hopper--"

"The POLICE CHIEF knows you're a WEREWOLF," Eddie yells. It startles some birds in a nearby tree, making both he and Steve flinch.

Steve's ears go red. "Hop, he's not--not bad. We--he's helped us out a couple times. Um, there's also a doctor? Who knows? He works for the government and he's trying to figure out why I'm, you know."

"What the fuck, Steve. Like. What the fuck? A government doctor knows you're a werewolf?"

"It's um. You've heard the stories about something being wrong with Hawkins?" Eddie nods. "They're not just stories."

It's a lot to take in. That Hawkins really is cursed, that Steve really is a werewolf, that--

"So, that was actually a--a monster? In the woods? And you--you were, what, looking out for me?"

"Well, I wouldn't need to if you stopped going into the goddamn forest!" There's that annoyed head shake.

"I didn't mean to!'

"What about yesterday??"

"I didn't mean to fall asleep!"

"For fuck's sake, Eddie!"

"I'm sorry!" He throws his hands up. "You could've told me there was a monster."

Steve glares. "Yeah, cause that's an easy conversation. 'Hey, Ed, just so you know, monsters are real. I'm kinda one of them. And some of them in the woods around Hawkins want to eat you'."

"It would've been helpful! And that night, at the trailer, you were--?"

"Making sure you were okay."

"But. Why?"

"Don't you feel it?"

And Eddie doesn't even have to ask what it is. "Yeah, I--yeah."

Their eyes lock and his stomach goes all warm and swoopy. Eddie forces a laugh, forces himself to look away. "So, being a werewolf made you gay?"

Steve coughs out a choked sound. "No, I--no. I was--before."

Honestly, this information is more shocking than Steve being a werewolf. "But--King Steve. All those girls?"

"Robin thinks I was--um--what's it called? Like using that to avoid that I'm also attracted to, you know, dudes. "

"And--it's--Sorry, but this is insane. It's me? That you like?"

Steve laughs. "Why is it easer to believe that I'm a werewolf?"

"I don't--I guess it's cause I've seen you as a werewolf."

"To be fair, you've also seen me, who is gay."

"That's--that's--" Eddie splutters. "Fair."

"Do you remember performing in that talent show?" Steve asks.

"In junior high? Yeah."

"I thought you were really--you did a good job."

"Oh. You--huh." Eddie hides his face in his hands, tries to smother the laugh, but it's impossible.

"Don't--" Steve shoves at him, "Don't laugh! I--you were cute! Goofy! I thought you had nice hands!"

"That's all it takes?" He smirks, can't help but be pleased that Steve's had a crush on him all this time, that it's always been mutual.

"You were nice," Steve says. He's serious now. "You were always kind."

He doesn't know what to say to that, how to hide his growing blush. "So, your werewolf senses know that you like me," he teases.

Steve's neck is read now too. "Um. Yeah? I--yeah. Robin says it's fera--feram--that I'm drawn to your scent"

"Oh, pheromones. Oh." And it's all sort of hitting him now, that this is real, that Steve--he and Steve--oh. "I, uh, like you too, if that wasn't obvious."

"I know." Steve taps the tip of his nose. "I can smell it."

"That's--oh god--that's. So embarrassing. All this time??"

"Only this year"

"That doesn't make it better! Oh my god."

"You've got it so bad," Steve sing-songs, pulls Eddie closer.

"I can't believe the werewolf of Hawkins has a supernatural crush on me."

"Werewolf of--no, absolutely not. You are not calling me that." Steve swats at him.

"Oooh, yes, I am." He pushes Steve back.

"Do you know what will happen if Dustin hears that?"

"Unfortunately for you, that's not a deterrent."

"You're going to be so much trouble--" Steve moves to grab him, Eddie's jacket slipping down his torso. "Oh shit, I'm naked."

"You are very much naked." Eddie can't help his wide grin.

"Don't--don't be gross about it."

"Oh, so you think you'd be normal about waking up to the guy you have a massive crush on naked next to you?"

"I--I--" Steve goes crimson. "Shut-up!"

Eddie giggles, leans into him, and Steve twines their fingers together.

"Okay, but let's get out of here? There's only so long I can tolerate being naked sitting on a rock."

They climb down, Eddie valiantly not oogling Steve the entire time.

"So, do you only turn at the full moon? Does it hurt? How did everyone find out? You have to tell me about the other monsters. Are there vampires? Is anyone else I know a monster? Oh my god, is Robin a witch?"

Steve sighs, can't quite hide the grin pulling at his lips. "I'm not answering all that."

"Steve!"

"I've signed a bunch of NDAs."

"A bunch of--what the hell? Steve! You can't just--"

Steve grabs his hands, squeezes. "I'll tell you. All of it. Promise. Just, not right now?"

Eddie bites his lip in thought, tries not to notice Steve staring at his mouth. "Ugh, fine. But I won't forget you owe me explanations. Plural!"

"Yeah, yeah." Steve rolls his eyes, tugs Eddie forward.

They walk a few steps in silence before Eddie belts out, "Aroooooo, werewolves of Hawkins!" before taking off through the trees.

"Eddie, seriously?" Steve calls after him, only to be met by the echo of his laughter. "Are you really trying to outrun a werewolf right now? I mean, honestly."

"Catch me if you can, sweetheart."

Steve's laugh is a little bit like a bark as he starts to chase.

[eggrollforyou]

Need This

Law x F!Reader

CW: Established relationship, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), slight angst- feelings of overwhelm, fingering, oral (M!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, sub Law, needy Law, slight praise kink, religious themes if you squint

A/N: thanks everyone for participating in my poll! Sub Law smashed the competition! This was a fun one to indulge in. I hope you enjoy it. I definitely had to take breaks 🥵 I spent more time making the banner than I did proofreading. I'll come back later and make edits as I see them 🙈

“DAMN IT, SHACHI! I said NOT to do that. Bathroom duty, the next 4 rotations,” Law shouted in frustration. “W-what?! But Captain! Four rotations?! I just thought you might like to try something different with your rice balls this week,” Shachi exclaims as he dejectedly throws his hands down by his side. Law sucked his teeth in frustration, “And I said no, the last time you tried. Clear it with me before you waste the fucking ingredients. Four rotations,” as he stomps out of the galley.

You stared at Shachi in disbelief at Law’s outburst. Shachi returns your widened gaze as he shrugs in disbelief, “I don't know what the fuck has been going on with him. He's been so goddamn touchy the last few days. Ugh…fucking bathroom duty?!” He cries out as he swipes his hand down his face. “Fuck…,” he mumbles to himself as he walks out. You shift a glance over to Penguin who was sitting quietly, clearly trying not to invoke the wrath of Law. 

“How long has he been like this? I've only been gone for a couple weeks running that mission for him,” you ask quietly. “It's been like this the last week, almost. It's been UNBEARABLE, Y/N,” he sighs. “We've all been walking on eggshells. Even Bepo has been doing his best to stay in line. You've got to figure out what's going on with him and save us from this torture. Everyone is afraid to make him mad and end up with some fucked up duty as punishment.” He gets up and puts his dishes away for the poor soul who last pissed off Law- to clean it with a toothbrush. 

What the hell is going on? Nothing happened while I was out, I think. Even still, this really isn't like Law, you think to yourself. Sure punishments weren't out of the ordinary. Especially considering the antics the crew got up to, but something was up. Law was clearly extra touchy about everything. He usually wouldn't throw a fit over a change in his rice ball recipe. You sigh to yourself, wondering how you're going to handle this, lest you be subjected to his next punishment.

Law stormed back to his office quickly and slammed the door behind him in a huff. “What the FUCK was Shachi thinking? He knows what I like. Why would he randomly fucking change it?!” he grumbles to himself, still fuming. The three weeks have been an absolute shit show, especially the last week. Nothing has gone right. He feels absolutely out of control. Something he really doesn't like.

Sure with the Straw Hats, he's come to expect it. But on his own ship? He always had control. But it seemed there was something in the drinking water, because even his crew were doing everything they could to rip apart his every last nerve. He sighed in utter defeat and plopped down into his desk chair, covering his eyes with his hand on his brow.

It started with his last mission plan. He was working with Robin to gather info on a poneglyph. They went to some dusty ass island in the middle of nowhere based on some intel they gathered the week prior, only to learn that Shachi and Penguin got the information wrong. He gave them the leeway to do it on their own, because they groveled for the opportunity, and they fucked it up! Little did he know, they were simply given bad information, but that didn't change the fact that they were in the wrong fucking place at the wrong fucking time, so they couldn't ambush who they needed information. After that, it seemed everything was spiraling out of his control and he couldn't handle it any longer. 

He sighed again, showing his weary heart. Rubbing his temples, “Fuck…I overreacted again didn't I?” he questioned himself. He knew he was touchier than normal. He was just tired of it all. Tired of the responsibility of his crew, tired of always having to make the decisions because it seemed no one else could do it on their own, tired of being the only one with any sense to maintain charge. It was exhausting. Then he felt the pang of guilt in his chest. Shachi only changed the rice ball recipe by one ingredient, one that he liked, and he acted like an ass. He stood up, prepared to apologize. He opened the door to go to Shachi’s station and was met with you, wide eyed in surprise and your hand up, your knuckles about to knock on the door, right as he swung it open.

“Y/N, you're back!” He pulls you into a hug, one you noted was tighter than his usual, but you're quick to return it. You have been gone for two weeks to try to gather better intel on a sleazebag who supposedly had the correct information to the poneglyph Law and Robin were trying to find. Law sighed, taking in a big breath, smelling your hair- he missed it. “I missed you,” he whispers and you feel the tension in his body slowly soften. “When did you get back?” You walked him backwards into the office and closed the door behind you. “Just an hour ago. I witnessed your blow up on Shachi. Is everything okay? This stuff usually doesn't make you so upset,” you probe, as you push some of his hair out of his face, resting your hands to hold both sides of his face. 

Law sighs, “I know. I-I feel terrible. I shouldn't have blown up like that. I just….I'm so tired Y/N…nothing has gone to plan the last three weeks. I'm just….tired of it all.” You gaze back, trying to hide your surprise. Law isn't usually so forthcoming with how he's feeling. Usually he's …emotionally constipated. It's like pulling teeth to get him to talk to you, but now? You can see he's held in his stress for too long. His soul and heart are raw from the expectations he placed upon himself. Your heart twists at the sight. “Oh, Law, baby. Don't worry about Shachi. He'll be fine. I'll take care of it, ok? You don't have to do this alone.” 

You pull him to your lips in a reassuring kiss, embracing him to try to take some of his stress. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, returning your embrace, pulling you in tight and you feel his body begin to relax. “Are you ok?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “You can talk to me,” you console. He sighs, his skin tingling as your fingertips lightly scratch his scalp. “I…,” he hesitates. Does he really want to burden you with this? The thought of opening up has him feeling vulnerable, but he feels so tightly wound.

Like a spool of wire pulled so taught that it’ll burst at any moment. He’s afraid of what the shrapnel could do. To you, to him, to his crew. Everything he’s worked so hard for. And suddenly, his thoughts flash to Corazon. How he put everything on the line to help him. A dying child, with little hope, ready to throw everything away. How he gave up everything, so that he could be the man he’s become. To live….to thrive.

His body shakes as he finds comfort in your presence, in your love. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart and his thoughts- racing a mile a minute. “I’m just so tired of the responsibility of everything. Being Captain, making sure everyone is safe. Making all the decisions, all the plans…all the time,” he pauses. You sense his hesitation to continue and don’t allow him to break from your hold. Running your hand in his hair, your other running pressured strokes on his back. Hoping it prompts him to continue. He senses your effort to ground him, “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it…But…it’s just been so much for so long…I wish I could just give up all control, even if only for a day.” Getting the words out finally makes him feel like he has space to breathe.

You hold his face between your palms, leaning back to look into his tired eyes. You see the exhaustion on his face; the weariness. How it’s taken its toll since you’ve been gone. “Thank you,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “for telling me,” you press another on his cheek, “I will always be here to help you, with whatever you need,” and another kiss to the corner of his mouth. You slowly walk him backwards, he stops when he feels the edge of the couch hit the back of his legs. Forcing him to sit, you straddle his lap, determined to smother him in your love and affection. Going on missions for him wasn’t out of the ordinary. After all, he had big plans. But you didn’t realize how much you missed him while you were gone for this one, especially after hearing about what weight he keeps himself under when you’re not there. 

He buries his face into your chest, not realizing how much you ground him through everything until now. He smells you again, taking long deep breaths, and suddenly his heart is pounding. Though this time not from stress, from your closeness. He realizes how wrapped in you he truly is at the moment. He pulls back to look at you, your eyes sparkling as you gaze back at him, and he presses a kiss to your collarbone. “Thank you. For….everything.” You smile warmly in return, trying to hide your surprise at this different side of him that you’ve never seen before. “You would do the same for me, Law. I will always be here for you. But next time…,” he looks at you, clearly on the upside of this moment, “Next time, come to me before it gets to this, okay?” His lips tug up into a shy smile and he nods, “I don’t want to see you hurting like this. All of us are here for you. We love you….I love you.” 

You lean down to give him another kiss. One turns into two and they continue to multiply. You feel the flutters of desire begin to grow as your bodies heat up and react to one another. His grip on you is tight as he keeps your chest pressed against his. As you slot your lips against his again, your tongues meet in a kiss that quickly gets heated. You begin to grind your hips into him, legs still straddling him, and he whines into your mouth. It sounds like music to your ears. Law NEVER whines. He’s always been one to take charge, but this time feels different. 

“Please, Y/N,” his voice wavers. This time, you think, you won’t let him. He feels your smirk on his lips, “You’ve been so good for me, Law. I think I should show you just how much I appreciate it,” as you grind your clothed cunt on his growing erection with more force. His eyes flutter shut and he whimpers. It fuels the fire you are stoking. “Please…I n-need you. I need this.” You lean back slightly to look at his rugged face. This time, there’s no scowl; it’s soft, relaxed, and needy. “Don’t worry Law, I’ve got you,” you huff, your voice low and full of desire. “Just relax for me, ok baby?” With his eyes closed, he nods, as you lean back to remove your shirt and bra, quickly, not stopping your relentless grinding on his lap.

His hands find purchase on your hips, clutching tightly, his fingertips turning white. You’re gasping into each other’s mouths as if you’re starving for one another. You unbutton his shirt and push it off of him, dragging your nails on every part of his exposed flesh that you touch as you bring them back up his body. Relishing in the goosebumps you leave in your wake. He shivers at the contact. “Does that feel good, baby?” He moans. “Mmmmm, I love when you make that sound for me,” you say as you press open mouthed kisses along the column of his neck and across the top of his shoulder.

You reach down to unbuckle his belt, you rise from his lap letting him shuffle his pants and boxers down as you pull your own shorts and panties, letting them pool at your feet. His eyes traveling from your ankles, looking at every part of you all the way up to your face as he pants in near desperation for your touch. You lean over him, caging him beneath you and he pulls you in, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You throw your head back in pleasure as his tongue swipes and swirls around your nipple, his cheeks hollowing as he takes more of your breast into his mouth. Your arms wrap around his head, nails scraping into his scalp as you grip his hair. His hands grab your ass as he switches his attention to your other breast, gasping as he scrapes his teeth on your other nipple. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, swiping your thumb across the tip, swirling the pre-cum that’s gathered there. He whimpers at your touch as you begin slowly teasing him, grazing your fingertips in teasing, featherlight touches, along the bottom of his length, “Is this what you want, baby?” 

“Y-ahh-yes, p-please, touch me Y/N,” he begs, his eyes glazed over, cheeks dusted in pink. He moans softly as you oblige in his request, grabbing length at the base and slowly twisting your fist up his length. You ghost your lips over his ear, your breath light and teasing. His breath hitches and his body stiffens as he flexes his every muscle. “You’re SO responsive for me, Law,” you whisper devilishly, intentionally keeping your lips a hair’s breadth away from the shell of his ear. His breaths come heavier and you take his wrist, bringing his hand to your core, “Feel what you do to me, Law.” You both moan as he takes two of his fingers and rubs them where you crave him most. His fingers swiping back and forth, collecting your slick- practically dripping- and swirling it around your clit. 

He inserts one finger and presses the spot that makes you go insane. He watches you in reverence as he continues to slowly work his finger in and out of you. You bite your lip when he inserts the second finger. Your hand on his cock falters as he crooks his fingers, pressing his thumb on your clit with steady pressure. His pupils dilated, sweat collecting on his brow from being so worked up. “Mmmf, f-fuck, yes Law. Right there. You make me feel sooooo good,” you whimper trying not to collapse on him. His fingers continue pumping in and out of you. The room filled with sounds most unholy, the air thick with desire as you pant into each other's mouths.

You adjust while Law continues to scissor you open with his fingers, leaning down, you kiss and kitten-lick his leaking tip. He pauses for a moment, hand clenched while other hand stops fingering you. You smirk for a moment, enjoying Law turning into a flushed mess at your touch. “Tell me what you need, Law.” He hisses, eyes opening to see you peeking up at him, his cock throbs in your hand, “I need your mouth…please,” he groans. “Need my mouth where?” you tease. “O-on my cock, please, I need your mouth on my cock,” he pants. You chuckle, “Good boy,” and as you sink your mouth down onto his cock, his arm reaches over your back, grabbing your side, “A-aahhh- shit- your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.”

You glide your lips up and down his shaft, building a steady rhythm, occasionally taking him deeper, touching the back of your throat. You pause to relax your throat to take him further and he hisses, pushing his hips up into your mouth. You moan when his hand presses slightly on the back of your head, forcing a small gag from you, your grip on the base of his cock tightening slightly. His hand in your hair stops pressing and he holds on to it while you take back control. Bringing your lips back to his tip as you swirl your tongue, your hand working what couldn’t fit into your mouth, drool dripping down your wrist. You tease his tip continuously with each pass, making his toes curl, his abs tighten, getting lost in the gasps and moans you pull from the back of his throat. 

Coming up with a lewd pop as you pull his throbbing length from your mouth, you push his shoulders back to keep him leaning back on the couch as you throw your leg over him. Sitting on his lap, his spit soaked cock between you both, you lean up and grind your pussy on him. Leaning forward to capture his lips in yours as you spread your slick on his shaft. You reach down to line him up with your entrance, slowly pushing his fat tip in. You slowly sink down onto his length to the hilt, releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He reaches to grab the side of your face and your neck, pulling you into a ravenous kiss. You begin grinding your hips in a circular motion, eating his wanton moans. “Hold me tight, make me feel every inch of you,” you whisper.

A guttural moan is ripped from his throat as you grind yourself up and down his length as his arms wrap tightly around you. Your forehead is pressed to his as you lock eyes, fire in them. You pick up your pace until your hips and thighs burn, fueled to continue by Law’s unwavering grip on your hips and his moans each time you pull your clenching walls up to his tip and slam down. “Baby-baby-f-fuck,” his eyes are glistening as he watches you take all of him, over and over. You slow down, putting your finger under his chin forcing his gaze up at you, “I want you to look at me, baby. Look at me to see how good you feel. How good you make me feel. Can you do that?” He gulps, “Y-yes,” his strong hands grasping and kneading your hips, ass, and thighs. “Mmm, so good for me, Law, thank you baby.”

“Fu-uuck,” he stutters as he begins thrusting up into you. He’s pulling you so tightly into him, you don’t know where one begins and the other ends, you’re just melting into each other. “Hnng, you feel so good inside me, Law, keep going.” Spurred by your praise, he picks up his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin turning you both on even more. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching as you clench around Law’s cock. Both of you panting, “Fuck, you feel so good…I-I c-can’t stop,” his voice shaky as he loses himself in you.

His thrusts are growing needier as you moan praises, fire in your veins as he brings you closer to your climax. His eyes roll back when your hands reach for his shoulders as he fucks up into you. Your nails leaving crescent marks on them. You look down at him, his fucked out expression, determined to please you. He swears you're an angel, peering down at him, perfect in every way. He groans in euphoria at the sting of your nails, your clenching walls wrapped around him, as he fucks the shape of him into you. 

“F-fuck, Law, I need to cum, can you make me cum, baby?” You pant breathlessly. “Fuuuhhck-hhng-yes baby, let me,” he growls as he snakes his hand down to your clit, messily rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You feel him throb inside you as the touch makes you bite your lip to contain your screams, your cunt clenching hard as he works you to your orgasm.

“Please, baby, please give it to me, I need this,” he groans, maintaining his hungry gaze with yours, and you begin to tumble into the waves of electric pleasure that wash over you. “Fuuuck, don't stop, fuck me just like that,” you command. “Ah-ahhh-aghhhh,” he can no longer contain himself as he feels you flutter on his cock, using him for your pleasure. He stills for a moment as his release spills into you, pressed against your cervix. Sighs and moans of pleasure as he finishes with you. 

You're both spent, sweaty messes when his thrusts finally come to a stop. He pulls your lips to his, capturing your lips in a languid kiss. Your tongues swirl in a tired dance as you both come down from your highs. Panting into each other. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for helping me,” he grumbles, half asleep from the energy expended from his emotions and your body. 

You hum at his words of affection pressing kisses on random places of exposed skin. “You needed stress relief, baby. I'm glad I could oblige. I'm always here for you. Again you don't have to do this all alone.” He brings you into a tight embrace again, as if he's what tethers you to this world. You stand up off of him to gather your clothes, quickly shimmying on your underwear and shorts and grabbing a small towel to clean yourselves off. 

You lay Law down on the couch, running your hand on his arm. “You stay here, rest. I'll take care of things for a bit,” pressing a kiss to his forehead. He leaves a sigh of relief. “What did I do to have you? Please…tell Shachi I'm sorry.” You squeeze his hand in reassurance and quietly leave the office as you hear his breathing even out. 

Only to be surprised by Penguin and Shachi just around the corner. “Ah!” you yelp, looking behind you, hoping you didn't wake Law up. “What the fuck are you two doing here?! Creeps!” They snicker, sharing a knowing glance between themselves. “Soooo,” Shachi chimes, hoping you have good news for him. “How's the Captain feeling?” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you squeeze your eyes shut. This is the shit he deals with….daily. You think to yourself. “Shachi….fucking…four rotations!” His bright eyes dim as his cheeky grin falters, his mouth agape. “W-what?! But-but- you were supposed to help me out!” As you walk away, Penguin is grabbing his stomach trying not to burst out in laughter, “Law took it back, but I'm giving it back because you're a fucking pervert! He sends his apologies!” You call out to him as you wave your hand goodbye. 

Taglist: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Phew! If you made it this far, thank you! I thrive on feedback so I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🫣 Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated.

Did you like this? I'm flattered! Wanna read more? Here's my Masterlist!

[sidekick-hero]

“You think I should bring some roses to the date?”

Steve looks beautiful in his moss-green button-up, and Eddie wants to scream into a pillow. Not just because he can correctly name the color of Steve’s clothes now, but because the man he’s been crushing on for months is about to go on a date with someone who isn’t him.

And of course, it has to be today. Valentine’s Day.

Steve’s first date since Nancy, his long-time girlfriend, broke up with him. Eddie had wanted to wait before asking him out himself—afraid it was too soon, that Steve was still hurting. That he’d be the rebound at best.

And now, Steve was going out with Spencer. On Valentine’s Day.

God, he hates everything about it. But he loves Steve, more than he’s in love with him. So—

“He’s not going to know what hit him when he sees you, Stevie. You don’t need flowers when he won’t be able to look at anything but you.”

The brilliant, sunshine smile Eddie gets in return is worth the aching in his heart.

“Thanks, Eds. I’d better get going, don’t wanna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow—if everything goes like I planned.” Steve winks, all confidence and charm, and Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat. He’s glad to see Steve like this again. He just wishes it was for him, not some random guy who doesn’t even know that Steve always leaves a tiny sip in all his cups and glasses.

He forces himself to wish Steve fun and good luck. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, he calls Robin.

“Uggghhhhh,” he groans into the phone as soon as she picks up.

Robin, the traitor, laughs. “Get a grip, Bambi. I already told you—man up and tell Steve how you feel. Stop whining at me.”

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re pathetic. Seriously, why can’t you just tell him? You’ve been head-over-heels for him since the day I met you.”

Eddie groans again, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because I love him, Robs. I want him to be happy.”

Robin’s voice softens. “You make him happy, you idiot. You always have. I was really worried about him after Nancy, but you pulled him out of his slump. The first time he smiled again after the breakup? That was because of you.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, because honestly, what’s there to say to that?

Robin sighs. “Just think about it, Eddie. We both love him. We both want him to be happy. I believe you can make that happen. Do you?”

After they hang up, Eddie sits in silence, Robin’s words echoing in his head. We both love him. We both want him to be happy.

Was she right? Could he make Steve happy?

No. No, he can’t. Eddie’s never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. And Steve deserves better. He deserves someone worthy of the wonderful man he is. Someone who loves him loudly, carries him on their hands. Someone who knows Steve hates his birthday because he was always alone on them as a kid. Someone who doesn’t just tolerate his weird habits but loves them, because they make him Steve.

Steve deserves someone who isn’t afraid of commitment. Someone successful and put-together. Not a guy who still lives with two roommates, slings drinks at a bar, and clings to the dream that his band might one day make it.

The beeping of his phone startles him out of his thoughts. He sighs, expecting Robin, but—

It’s Steve.

Spencer’s still not here. You think he stood me up?

Eddie’s entire body tenses. That stupid son of a bitch.

If he did, he’s even stupider than his name. He types while yanking open his closet, grabbing for the one good shirt he owns. You want me to come get you?

The three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.

Fine. That’s fine. It gives Eddie time to throw the shirt on, shove his feet into his boots, and grab his keys.

Finally, Steve’s reply pops up.

No, it’s fine. I’ll wait some more. You know how traffic can be.

Eddie clenches his jaw. He can practically hear Steve making excuses, trying to be understanding. Trying to believe in someone who doesn’t deserve it.

Screw this.

Eddie doesn’t think. He just moves.

Keys in hand, he’s already out the door.

Good thing he knows what fancy restaurant Steve wanted to take his date to. If it were him, he'd take Steve to their favorite Italian restaurant, the one with the handmade pasta and the handmade tiramisu.

Maybe they can still go there.

The second Eddie pushes through the restaurant doors, his eyes land on Steve immediately.

He’s sitting at a small table by the window, drumming his fingers against the stem of his untouched water glass, his lips pressed into a tight line. His date is nowhere to be seen.

Eddie strides over like he should be here—because, honestly? He does.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, dropping into the chair across from Steve like this is their date. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic, you know how it is.”

Steve startles, blinking up at him. “What—Eddie? What are you—?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Eddie lies easily, tossing his keys onto the table. “Figured you were either kidnapped or too nice to walk out on that douchebag, so here I am. Your knight in shining leather.”

Steve huffs a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s something soft in his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you look way too good to be sitting here alone.” Eddie leans back, eyes sweeping over him, exaggerating his admiration. “I mean, damn, Stevie. If I’d known you’d clean up this nice, I would’ve asked you out ages ago.”

He means it as a joke. Mostly. But something shifts in Steve’s expression—his fingers tightening slightly around the glass, his smile faltering just a little.

“…You’re serious.”

Eddie swallows. Shrugs. “I mean… yeah?”

Steve exhales sharply, shaking his head again, but this time, he’s smiling. A real one. One that makes Eddie’s chest feel too tight.

“You’re unbelievable,” Steve mutters, reaching for his jacket. “Come on, if you’re crashing my Valentine’s Day, you’re at least buying me dinner. At our restaurant.”

Eddie grins, hopping to his feet. “Now we’re talking. Babe, you know I’m the cheapest date in town.”

Steve snorts, bumping their shoulders as they head for the door. And yeah, okay—maybe Robin was right.

Because Steve looks happy. And Eddie could get used to that.

[kitkatscabinet]

NO THING DEFINES A MAN LIKE LOVE THAT MAKES HIM SOFT

requested by anon

summary: Jason's always been undeniably soft for you, his friends and family take every opportunity to tease him for it.

pairing: jason todd x wondergirl! reader

word count: 2.5k

You throw open the door to Jason's apartment, wincing when the wood slams against the wall with a bang.

Roy doesn't even look up when he greets you, too enthralled with whatever violent video game he's playing today. Jason, however, perks up at your arrival, putting his book down as he turns to look at you. He can't help it, the way he responds automatically at your presence, his face splitting into a bright smile at the sight of you.

You're too tired to walk around the couch, so you sit on the back of the couch, flipping yourself backwards inelegantly. You sink into the shitty couch beside Jason, draping yourself across his lap with a groan.

You've always been so free with your physical affection, but it still makes Jason's heart leap to his throat; butterflies erupt in his stomach like a child with their first crush.

He stiffens for a second, hands hovering awkwardly midair like he’s not sure where to put them with Roy suddenly watching so intently. On your waist? Your legs? Just hovering there like an idiot?

You shift, cuddling closer, totally oblivious to the dilemma you're causing.

Roy smirks at him from across the room, wriggling his brows suggestively. Jason flips him the bird, glaring harshly, before quickly retracting his hand when you turn to stare up at him. He has to fight back the urge to squirm under the weight of your adoring gaze.

You reach up, tugging at his little white curl playfully, before you turn back around and nestle into Jason’s stomach, content to steal all his body heat without a second thought.

Jason, poor Jason, just slowly rests his hand on your back like he’s afraid you’ll suddenly disappear if he moves even an inch. You let out a happy little hum, nuzzling further into him as your muscular arms encircle his waist.

Trapped as he is, Jason is powerless to stop Roy as his friend whips out his phone and takes an incriminating photo. "Group chat’s gonna love this," he murmurs gleefully.

Jason glares at him with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. "You’re dead to me." He whispers, careful not to wake you.

"Don't worry, I'll send it to you too." Jason refuses to verbalise how much he actually wants that.

You're out like a light, bruises decorating your skin and hair dishevelled from a long day of sparring, and yet you're still as beautiful as ever. He watches you sleep with no small amount of reverence, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth unbidden.

He still remembers the first time you met, with startling clarity. His memories of you are some of the only things untainted by the Lazarus Pit and his subsequent time in the League.

It was during his early days as Robin, when he was still rough around the edges and angry at the world, trying so desperately to prove himself.

Dick had been even more giddy than usual, promising Jason he had "a super duper exciting surprise that he'd absolutely love!" as he lured him down to the Batcave.

"I doubt it." He'd grumped, only to nearly instantly eat his words at the sight of Wonder Woman, the greatest hero ever. Not just Wonder Woman, but you, bright, breathtaking you.

You were a force of nature, all wild hair and sharper wit, smiling like the world hadn't yet taught you to be wary. You offer him your hand eagerly, and Jason takes it, his eyes trailing up and up and up.

"...You’re so tall." He inwardly cringes at his lack of eloquence, too tongue-tied at the literal demi-goddess towering over him.

"Is that a problem?" you asked curiously, arms folding across your chest as you looked him up and down. "Should I shrink myself to spare your ego, Robin?" Diana had warned you that men tended to feel emasculated when women were taller than they were, but you'd yet to experience that.

"No!" Jason practically shouts, as if the mere idea offended him.

Dick made a choking noise and immediately began texting someone, not that Jason noticed, entranced with you as he was.

(Jason would later learn this was the exact moment a group chat called 'Jason + Wondergirl = ENDGAME' was born.)

You'd then proceed to flatten him into the dirt for the next thirty minutes as you sparred, and Jason fell just a little bit in love.

You'd picked him up off the floor with ease, smiling dopily despite his busted lip, and he'd asked if you were ready to get serious. You'd laughed, full-bodied and delighted, and Jason had known then that he was doomed.

You became his person so effortlessly, it was almost embarrassing. You'd squeeze yourself into the spaces he left open, the cracks he didn’t realise were there, until he couldn’t imagine a world where you weren't right beside him.

You were his best friend, his confidante, his favourite person in the entire world.

Even when you argued, which was rare, because you always listened to him. When his anger got the better of him and he lashed out, you were understanding, refusing to let him push you away.

Even when he'd died and then come back different, wrong, you'd never once judged him or hated him. Bruce had been outraged at what Jason had become, but you'd offered nothing but kindness and understanding.

You never hated him or begrudged him for becoming a killer, nor did you attempt to stop him, simply happy to have him back by your side.

His brothers teased him relentlessly, but Jason couldn't prevent the smile that covered his face when you entered the room, even if he tried. Roy constantly comments on how his body releases the tension it always seems to hold whenever you're around. Even Bruce had become relentless in his not-so-subtle, offhand comments about the two of you, with Jason actually shooting at him when his old man brought up grandchildren.

Jason sighed softly, dragging a hand through his hair as he tried to push away those thoughts. Of you and him, together.

You shift slightly, face scrunching in your sleep, and he immediately softens even more, reaching out to brush a piece of hair from your forehead with infinite gentleness reserved solely for you.

His phone vibrates, but he stalwartly ignores it, even when Roy starts to gesture at him aggressively. It's not until he fears the constant vibrations will wake you that he snatches his phone up with a glare, only to find he's been added to a chat that he definitely wasn't part of before.

Arse-nal: LOOK AT HIM!! LOOK HOW SOFT HE IS!!!

Attached was the photo, an annoyingly well-taken photo, of you, fast asleep in his lap, using him as your personal pillow. But even worse is the clear adoration in his gaze as he stares down at you.

LoverBoy: fuck all of you. i hope you step on a pile of legos

Eldest Daughter Syndrome (Dick): VINDICATION!!!! Look at that face! I knew it. I’ve been telling you all, he's been obsessed with her for years. You think he’s tough? This dude’s a marshmallow when it comes to her.

Arse-nal: BRO IS WHIPPED. Now there's no refuting that he's literally softer than cotton candy.

Fastest Dumbass Alive (Wally): OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING! STATIONS EVERYONE!!! REMAIN CALM!!

Stalker (Tim): Didn't know you could smile. Ur glowing. This feels illegal.

BeastieBoy: That's that Amazon magic babyyyyy. His skin? CLEAR, crops? Watered, depression? Cured.

Demolition Barbie (Cassie): Why do i wanna cry? He's so in love its a little disgusting.

Ebony Dark’ness (Raven): What would the criminals say if they could see you now? The Big Bad Red Hood, secretly a wife guy, the world must be ending.

Lover Boy: Delete that shit before i delete you.

Arse-nal: No can do brother. The people deserve to see it. Maybe this will help you finally man up and express your feelings.

Fastest Dumbass Alive: RIGHT? LIKE, LETS NOT PRETEND THIS HASNT BEEN YEARS IN THE MAKING. U 2 R SICKENINGLY SWEET

LoverBoy: You are weirdly intense about this. I feel mildly unsafe.

Fastest Dumbass Alive: SOME OF US HAVE BEEN INVESTED SINCE SEASON ONE, JASON. DONT DISRESPECT MY EMOTIONAL JOURNEY

Eldest daughter syndrome: I'm literally tearing up. y'all don't understand; Wally was there when Jason first awkwardly complimented her combat skills after she kicked his ass.

Arse-nal: Thats basically a proposal in Jason language.

Stalker: There are Oscar-nominated films with less buildup than this relationship. Waiting on that Netflix deal fr.

LoverBoy: I hate all of you. Deeply. Profoundly.

Queen Supreme (Donna): You love her though ;)

Fastest Dumbass Alive: YEAH, HOWS THAT FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. SO PROUD OF YOU <3

Jason wanted to scream, or throttle Roy, probably both, neither of which were options he had available as you were still sprawled across his lap.

Roy, sensing his luck was about to run out as Jason searched for something to throw, made a quick tactical retreat. (Not before snapping a bunch more photos, though.)

His thoughts of vengeance are abruptly derailed when you sigh happily, trying to push yourself closer against him in your sleep.

His neck will murder him tomorrow for sure, but Jason would rather die than wake you now. So he lets you spend the night like that, succumbing to sleep himself as he allows his imagination to run just a little wild.

Despite the furious ache in his body the next day, Jason had no regrets, not when it was the best sleep he'd had in years. He was on cloud 9 that day; nothing could bring him down.

Nothing until his phone started buzzing incessantly again.

Stalker: GUYS GUYS GUYS I MADE T-SHIRTS

Attached: a pic of a black t-shirt with the photo of Jason with you sleeping on his lap, printed below in giant bold letters is: "LOVER BOY"

Fastest Dumbass Alive: I AM ACTUALLY CRYING PUT ME DOWN FOR TEN I’M GIVING THEM OUT LIKE PARTY FAVOURS                                                                                                                                  Beastie Boy:                                                                                                        It hasn’t even been a day! The devil works hard, but Tim Drake works harder!!

Arse-nal:                                                                                  TIMOTHY. YOU BEAUTIFUL BOY I NEED A HOODIE TOO.

Eldest Daughter Syndrome: I’m buying in bulk. I’m handing them out at the next League meeting. 

Demolition Barbie: THIS IS THE GREATEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE. I WANT A TANK TOP VERSION.

Ebony Dark’ness: You are all unsupervised children. …but also I’ll take two.

Queen Supreme: We need matching hats. No one gets left behind.

Stalker: DON’T WORRY. Hats. Hoodies. Totes. Phone cases. I’m building an empire off Jason's misery. 

LoverBoy: I SWEAR TO GOD. IF I SEE ONE PERSON WEARING THAT SHIRT, YOU’RE ALL DEAD.

Fastest Dumbass Alive: 👕👕👕👕

Eldest Daughter Syndrome: Hey Jay, what size are you? Just wanna make sure your own shirt fits well. 

Arse-nal: NO ONE TELL HER. I WANNA SEE HIS FACE WHEN SHE SEES THEM IN THE WILD.

Ebony Dark’ness: This is the happiest I’ve seen all of you. Concerning.

Stalker: THE POWER OF LOVE, BABY. AND PETTY SIBLING BULLYING. BEAUTIFUL.

LoverBoy: i hope all your phones die at 1% when you're lost and need gps. i hope every chair you sit on has one short leg. i hope your toast falls butter side down. i hope you step on water in socks. i hate you. i hate you all so much. sleep with both eyes open.

Queen Supreme: We should get banners printed and roll them out at their wedding.

LoverBoy: I am begging you to touch grass. I am BEGGING you to seek help.

Stalker: too late bro. Train’s already left the station. By that I mean I’ve already sent the photo out to every hero number i have, I’m already getting requests. 

Fastest Dumbass Alive: hope ur ready to be the face of love, king <3

Jason clenches his teeth so hard he swears he hears a cracking noise. Oh god, he needed to find you, needed to explain before one of the idiots got to you first.

Unfortunately for him, Stephanie gets to you first, bursting into your room at the Titans tower, dressed in the prototype of the shirt.™

"Stephanie, what. is. that." You blink, focused on the garish neon pink text beneath the picture on her shirt.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" She beams, wiping a fake tear from the corner of her eye. Steph had been prepared for embarrassment, what she hadn't been prepared for, was to see the glee on your face.

"Where did you get it. I want one." You demand, taking Steph by surprise.

Your gaze is so intense, and she ends up just stripping it off to give to you for fear that you'd take it by force. She's a lot shorter and slimmer than you, but luckily the shirt had been oversized on Steph already.

You're admiring it in the mirror, it really is a cute picture of the two of you, when Jason suddenly slides into your room, out of breath. "I need to... talk... to you." He trails off in horror, witnessing you wearing the abomination Tim had created to embarrass him.

"Baby, we're so cute!" You chirp, proudly showing off your new article of clothing.

"Baby?" Steph squeals in delight, typing something furiously on her phone as Jason just sighs.

"You're cute," he corrects, grabbing one of your hands and placing a kiss on the back of your palm.

Stephanie sputters, pointing an accusing finger at Jason, who's doing his damndest to ignore her existence.

You pull him closer, tugging him against your chest as you lean down to kiss him. You know Jason prefers to keep your relationship private, but you're pretty sure the cat is well and truly out of the bag now, and you really want to kiss your absolutely adorable boyfriend.

Jason, who is always powerless against your kisses, melts into you, barely noticing Stephanie's outraged squawking.

You're quick to shove the blonde out the door, locking it before she can barge her way back in, never once pulling away from Jason.

Though you've been together romantically for a while now, he's still unused to your touch, to how gently you cradle him with calloused, war-torn hands.

"You know they're going to be even more insufferable once Steph blabs right?"

"Hmm, don't care, just wanna show everyone how much I love you." The sincerity in your words nearly stops his heart, but not as much as it pounds against his chest when you pick him up, pinning him to your bed.

"But let's not think about them any longer, yeah?" He nods, anything you wanted, he'd give it to you.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 14

Or: a secret Admirer AU

TW: homophic language used due to internalized homophobia

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13

Steve doesn’t know what’s worse, not being able to see the expression on Eddie’s face, or the moment he turns around and he can see it. He looks like Steve just shot his dog. But, wouldn’t Chrissy be the dog in that metaphor? Steve drops it before Robin can somehow sense his train of thought and burst into the room with the sole purpose of punching him.

“So, what?” Eddie asks, voice sharp and angry. “This was all just some joke? Pick on the freak? Make him think a pretty girl actually likes him?”

Any sadness he’d been feeling is wiped off his face now, masked over with a tired sort of rage. It’s tempting to go along with Eddie’s assumptions. Yes, it was all just a joke. Yes, they’d all been laughing behind his back for weeks on end. After all, Eddie doesn’t look hurt, he looks pissed.

But, it’s too late. Steve had already seen the anguish in Eddie’s eyes before he’d banked it.

“No,” Steve murmurs, only noticing that Eddie’s mid-tirade when he stops talking. His head’s buzzing too loud to hear much else. “It wasn’t a joke.”

Eddie scoffs, waiting in pointed silence until Steve raises his head and meets his eyes. “Then how do you explain all this?” He gyrates his hand around the room, encompassing all four of their bodies with jerky movements. “Huh, Harrington?”

Steve swallows. He hopes it’s not as audible to everyone else as it is in his own ears, but by the way Eddie’s gaze snaps down to it before pulling back up to meet his eyes again, that hope is futile.

“I just—” Steve starts, forcing himself to keep looking at Eddie, even as his eyes flay him open. “It wasn’t supposed to get this complicated.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie asks, gritting out every word, body leaning toward Steve like he wants to reach across the distance between them and strangle him.

“I just like you, okay?” Steve snaps. Eddie jerks back like he’d just taken a blow. “I liked you, and I thought this would be a good way to, I don’t know, work through it?”

“You like me?” Eddie asks, almost laughing, just like that day in the cafeteria when he was singling out the jocks, just like he always does when something’s not funny but he’s pretending it is.

It hurts anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mutters, staring down at his own lap, unable to look at anyone in the room. “I didn’t mean to make it your problem.”

“Didn’t mean to—” Eddie snaps, and Steve sees an abrupt enough movement that Steve’s afraid Eddie’s going to hit him. Steve jerks back into the couch, heartbeat rabbiting in his chest, but all Eddie’s done is stand, hands clenched, mouth snarling. “How the hell is tricking me into thinking Chrissy Cunningham liked me not making it my problem?”

“Eddie—“ Jeff cuts in, tone a warning, but Eddie doesn’t even seem to notice.

“You really think that’s ‘not making it my problem?’” Eddie asks, throwing finger quotations around it mockingly as he glares down at Steve. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Steve feels small, wishes he was smaller—he wants to sink into the cracks of the Munson’s ratty couch and never be seen again. This moment is too much for him.

He’s known ever since that moment in the cafeteria when Eddie’d pressed his lips to Chrissy’s hand that they’d end up here. He knew, but he’d kept writing the letters, kept Chrissy embroiled into his mess. Chrissy who’s standing silent and shocked behind Eddie, hand pressed to her mouth as Steve’s mess implodes around him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve replies, voice small. He’s not sure if he’s talking to Eddie, or Chrissy, or hell, even Jeff. He just knows that he really, truly is sorry.

“You’re sorry?” Eddie demands, and he’s pacing now, hands fisted into his own hair. “You’re sorry for what? For derailing my life? For making me think someone might actually like me? For what?”

Steve doesn’t say anything as he watches Eddie’s movements become more frenetic. He’s pulling his hair hard now, and all Steve wants to do is reach out and grab Eddie’s hands, make him stop hurting himself. But, it’s not his place, so he clenches his hands into fists atop his own thighs and looks up at the boy he likes unraveling at the seams. Because of him.

“The first time a girl actually likes me and it’s you.” It lands like venom, leaching through all the sinew and bone of Steve’s body and turning his beating heart into a pulpy mess. “What, you thought just because everyone calls me a freak that I’d be a quee—”

“Eddie!” It’s Chrissy and Jeff, both shouting out at the same time, clearly trying to get Eddie to stop talking before he says something irreversible.

It’s too late: Steve’s already heard him.

He doesn’t know what his own face is doing, but when Eddie finally looks at him, his face goes white, then turns sort of green like he’s going to be sick. When he takes a halting step forward, Steve can’t help the way he presses further into the couch, hands shaking where they’re still clenching in his lap.

He wants to scream, or cry, or die so he doesn’t have to do this anymore. But, Eddie’s right, this is all his fault, so the least he can do is offer up an explanation.

“It’s not Chrissy’s fault,” Steve says, looking down at his own shaking hands, willing them to lie still. “Or Jeff’s. I dragged them into this, so don’t be mad at them, okay?”

“Steve—” Chrissy says, voice choking with emotion.

“I was afraid.” Steve talks right over her, doesn’t even look her way. He can’t, or he’ll break. “But, that’s no excuse for making you have to deal with my bullshit.”

“Steve,” Chrissy tries again.

“I’m sorry.” Steve finally looks up from his lap, meeting Eddie’s fathomless eyes. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

Steve gets up on shaky legs and walks to the trailer’s front door, giving Eddie a wide berth. No one says anything as he makes his way through the small living room, or when he opens the door and steps through.

It’s only as the door’s shutting closed behind him that he hears Eddie say, “Shit Harrington, wait.”

Steve doesn’t. He walks down the Munson’s drive and straight out of the trailer park.

No one follows him.

***

The silence hangs like a noose in the trailer after the click of the door closing quietly behind Harrington’s drooping frame. Eddie stares into nothing, entirely blank.

“That was cruel.” It’s Chrissy who says it. Chrissy, who pretended to like him, who led him on, who…was just trying to protect her friend.

“Not any crueler than he was to me,” Eddie mutters, still staring at the closed door feeling inexplicably like he should run after him.

Instead, he turns his back on the door and tries to forget the slope of Harrington’s shoulders as he’d walked out on him.

His brain’s full of fog, emotions swirling around too quickly for him to catch any of them. He can’t make sense of any of this. Not Chrissy who pretended to like him or Steve Harrington, who actually did, not—

“You—” Eddie starts, eyes focusing as something else takes over his brain as he sets his sights on Jeff. “You knew?”

Jeff grimaces, but straightens his spine and tilts his chin up like Eddie’s the enemy now. “Yeah,” he says, all flippant, as if Eddie’s world isn’t shattering around his feet. “I knew.”

Eddie laughs, can’t help it with the way anger’s pooling in his gut. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It was Steve’s secret to te—”

“Screw Steve!” Eddie shouts, suddenly enough that Chrissy takes a startled step back. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”

Jeff scoffs, stepping in front of Chrissy. “Your friend?” he demands with an incredulous laugh that makes Eddie want to strangle him. “You didn’t even tell me about the letters in the first fucking place!”

He stomps forward, coming at Eddie like he’s going to do—something, Eddie will never know what because Chrissy wraps her arm around his waist and pulls him back with a chiding, worried, “Jeff.”

Eddie stares at the way her fingers curl proprietarily into the fabric of his t-shirt, the way he steadies under her touch and takes a step back, the way he stands in the cradle of her hold like it’s his birthright.

“Hold—hold on,” Eddie says, holding his hand out like that’ll stop the dots from connecting in his own mind. “Are you two—”

He doesn’t finish the thought, can’t put words to what he’s accusing them of, not right now. But, as he flails his fingers between them, they both look at the floor, in goddamn sync, even with their own guilt. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Anger’s always been Eddie’s worst enemy; he’s pretty sure it’s an inherited trait from his pa, the way rage makes his blood boil, makes him take things too far, makes him react like verbal words are a physical threat. Just like his pa, no matter how much he doesn’t want to be.

“So, you what?” he asks, whole body shaking with the force of his anger. “Decided to lead me on while fucking my best friend?”

He laughs, sharp and mean when Chrissy jerks like he slapped her. He clenches his fist against the desire to do just that.

“You don’t get to talk to her like that,” Jeff replies quietly, like that’ll make him the reasonable one.

“Fuck o—“

“You don’t own her,” Jeff interrupts him, Eddie screams in his throat, wild with the fire burning through him.

Jeff sighs, low and disappointed, just like Uncle Wayne does if Hop picks Eddie up for some trumped-up charges, or he fails another pop quiz, or he brings in more money he can’t explain to his Uncle. 

The thought of Wayne is what does him in. Even in absentia, that old man brings him back to himself. Eddie shudders, takes a step back and stares at the carpet beneath his toes, trying to bank his anger back beneath his ribs where it can’t hurt anyone else.

“I’m sorry we hurt you,” Jeff continues, voice soft, soft soft. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on. But Eddie?”

It takes a long moment for Eddie to drag gaze away from his own feet and up to Jeff’s face. Jeff waits, silent, until Eddie meets his eyes.

“You need to figure your own shit out, too,” he says gently. “Because if you don’t? You’re going to hurt everyone around you, not just Steve.”

Eddie looks back at the door Harrington—Steve—had walked through, feelings twisting around on themselves until they’re choking him.

“Harrington,” Eddie starts, throat catching on the consonants of his name like it’d been years since he last spoke. “Did he really—?”

He can’t finish this thought either, hopes Jeff or Chrissy will pluck it from his mind and answer it for him.

“Like you?” Jeff asks, waiting for Eddie to nod his assent before answering. “Yeah, man. He does.”

The present tense is what does him in. Does. Steve Harrington, king of the jocks, liar, boy, likes him. Enough to write letters to him. He doesn’t know what to do with this, where to put it in the reality of his life.

“Oh.”

“You can’t tell anyone, Eddie,” Chrissy says, taking a step around Jeff to look up at Eddie with pleading eyes. “They’ll kill him.”

It’s only then, staring at the terror on Chrissy’s face, that the magnitude of the secret he’s just learned sinks in. Harrington, lady-killer, probable prom king, jock extraordinaire, is queer.

The vindictive part of Eddie he tries to keep caged wants to sling this around— Harrington’s just comeuppance for every time he’s made the rest of them feel less than, feel like a freak. But, even with his anger barely banked, Eddie knows the punishment wouldn’t fit the crime.

Harrington had, what? Laughed snidely behind Hagan after standing by while he’d seen a nerd get his books knocked out of his hands? Had been born with a perfect face and perfect hair in a castle of a house, so he’d been idolized for it.

Telling wouldn’t take that all away—it’d leave Harrington dead.

Even Hagan doesn’t deserve that.

So, all Eddie says is, “I won’t,” quietly, hoping she believes him.

She sighs, slumping into Jeff, trusting him to hold her up. Eddie doesn’t want to see it anymore; he can’t be in the same room as those two and not let the fire in his blood bleed through to his words.

He stands, stiff, unsure, and asks, “can you guys just go?”

“Eddie—“

“Jeff, please,” Eddie asks, voice breaking on the last word.

“Okay.”

Jeff ushers Chrissy out of his trailer and, just before the door shuts behind him, Eddie calls out, “Jeff?”

“Yeah, buddy?” Jeff calls back, not turning back around, not closing the door.

“I’ll call you,” he says, hoping it’s loud enough for his friend to hear. “Okay?”

Jeff doesn’t point out the lack of time frame or the way Eddie’s voice shakes. He’s good like that, always has been, no matter how mad they get at each other. “You call, and I’ll pick up.”

Without another word, Jeff lets the door close. Eddie stands there stationary until he hears the sound of a car starting, kicking up gravel all the way out of the trailer park. Only then, does he collapse onto the couch and bury his head in his hands.

It’s a mistake—the pressure of his hand making pain bloom hard and fast on the bruise on his eyes. Eddie groans, tired, in pain, and completely done. He wants Uncle Wayne to brush his hair out of his face, wants Jeff to sit at his side, or Gareth to light a joint for him, or Chrissy to bump their shoulders together. 

He wants—

The bag of frozen peas Harrington had handed him have gone mushy and warm.

The trailer’s quiet, and Eddie’s all alone.

PART 15

[steveseddie]

i’ll save you a seat

steddie | rating: t | cw: none | wc: 3,5k | tags: eddie has a crush on steve, pining, eddie sits on steve’s lap as a joke, but steve turns the joke on him, twice

a/n: inspired by this post from @rogueddie (hi hello big fan of your headcanons)

click here to read on ao3

By the time Eddie comes back to the living room, carrying two bowls of popcorn, his friends have taken every available spot on the couch and on the floor.

It’s a full house tonight at the Harrington residence with El, Will and Jonathan visiting from California plus the local pipsqueaks, Wheeler, Buckley, Eddie and the host himself. 

Eddie spots Steve on the couch and he marches over to him, ignoring the grunts and grumbles from the kids as he steps over them where they sit on the assortment of pillows and blankets laid on the floor. On his way over, Eddie hands one of the bowls to Mini Byers and the other one to El, knowing that out of everyone on the floor, they’re the most likely to actually share it. Meanwhile, Buckley and Jonathan are already holding their own bowl each, meant to be shared among the grown-ups piled on the couch. 

Usually two bowls are enough, but given that there’s more of them tonight, Steve had to bring out two more JiffyPop and he asked Eddie to bring them back while he got everyone settled in the living room. 

Which means it’s Steve’s fault that there’s no room left for Eddie to sit.  

Okay. Maybe there’s actually room for him to sit. Maybe Eddie could take the free spot on one of the blankets right next to Max. Maybe he could steal one of the many pillows that Henderson is hoarding and comfortably enjoy the movie. 

The thing is he doesn’t want to. He always sits next to Steve when there’s fewer of them and he’d hope tonight would be the same, but that spot is currently occupied by Buckley, who isn’t going to move no matter how nicely Eddie asks, and since Steve’s other side is squished against the arm of the couch to make enough room for four people to sit on the otherwise three-people couch, Eddie can’t ask him to scoot over.

And before Eddie sucks it up and sits on the floor, he’s going to whine about it. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t save me a seat, Stevie,” Eddie pouts, standing between his legs.

Steve’s big Bambi eyes blink up at him. “I tried, Eds, but Robs threatened me so I would give her your spot.” 

And oh- Eddie didn’t actually expect Steve to try and save him a seat, he was just messing with him. The fact that he apparently did makes Eddie’s stomach flutter. 

Next to Steve, Robin smiles smugly at him.

“You’ve fought monsters from another dimension and you’re afraid of Birdie?” Eddie asks, huffing indignantly. Buckley flips him off. 

“She threatened to bite me, man!” 

Eddie tsks. “You survived several bites from hell bats, you could’ve let her bite you.” 

“You let her bite you then!” Steve counters, lightly kicking Eddie’s leg. 

“I don’t want to bite either of you,” Robin says, her nose scrunched up. “I want to watch the movie. Dustin, hit play,” she says, throwing a kernel at Henderson’s head, who grumbles and crawls over to the VHS. “Eddie, sit down,” she says, throwing one at him too. 

Eddie gets an idea and he grins maliciously.

“As you wish, my lady,” he says with a flourish of his hand.  

Then Eddie turns around and flops down on Steve’s lap.

Steve lets out a yelp. “Jesus, what are you doing?” 

“Buckley said to sit down,” Eddie shrugs, glancing at Steve over his shoulder. “And since there’s no room, thanks to you, I’m taking the last available seat.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “My lap?” Eddie nods smugly. “Eddie, there’s plenty of room on the floor.” 

“But this is more comfortable, Stevie.”

“For you, maybe,” Steve snorts, pinching Eddie’s side. “Your tailbone is digging into my leg, Munson.”

“Well, Harrington, this wouldn’t have happened if you’d save me a seat!” 

“Shhhh!” 

Eddie flips Buckley off for shushing them. She glares at him for bickering when the movie already started playing.  

Okay. Maybe Steve was right to be afraid of her- she has a very mean glare.

“Fine,” Eddie concedes before Buckley actually bites him. He sighs dramatically, “I guess I’ll sit on the floor like a dog-”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally everyone else is sitting there and no one is complaining-”

Eddie ignores him. “And here I thought you liked me, Stevie, cared about me. I thought we were friends-” he says, clutching his chest.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters in exasperation.

But when Eddie tries to stand up, Steve’s hands grab his hips, pulling him back into his lap. He flails and almost topples over onto Robin and Steve’s grip on his hips tightens. 

“Dude, stop moving.” 

“I’m trying to get up!” Eddie says, throwing his arms up.

Steve sighs. “Just-” He trails off, instead manhandling Eddie until he’s properly sitting on his lap and not sliding off of it, and wrapping his arms around his waist, trapping Eddie against his chest. 

Eddie lets out an entirely involuntary, undignified squawk. Blood starts rushing to his cheeks alarmingly fast. “Um, Steve, what are you doing?” 

“Getting comfortable,” Steve says, his cheek squished against Eddie’s shoulder. 

A nearly hysterical laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Dude, I was fucking around, I can sit on the floor-”

“And spend the rest of the movie whining and pouting? No, thanks. Just don’t move too much, okay? Your ass is boney.”

Unable to help himself, Eddie gives a tee-hee giggle. “So many dirty jokes I could make.”

Steve squeezes his side. “Don’t-”

“Shhhhh!” 

This time, it’s not just Buckley shutting them up, everyone else joins in.

“Just watch the movie, Eddie,” Steve whispers into his ear so he doesn’t disturb the others.

Eddie has to bite his bottom lip to keep quiet when he feels Steve’s warm breath tickling his neck. “Okay,” he says, his voice coming out a little squeaky.

But Steve doesn’t comment on it, simply tightens his arms around Eddie’s waist and leans back against the couch, bringing Eddie with him so they’re basically spooning. 

Eddie nervously glances around the living room, but no one is paying attention to them. Well, no one except Robin, who’s staring at them, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Eddie ignores her and the knowing smile that stretches over her lips, trying to focus on the movie.

But try as he might, he can’t pay attention to it- not when he can feel Steve’s breath against his neck, his arms around his waist, his chin hooked on his shoulder and his solid body underneath him. 

Being so close to Steve- on top of him, makes Eddie jittery and restless. But he can’t move, Steve told him not to, so he tries to sit still. 

He lasts, approximately, five minutes.

Soon, he starts wringing his fingers together on his lap, playing with his rings. 

Steve notices, and with a huff that sends shivers down Eddie’s spine when his breath tickles his neck, he grabs Eddie’s hands and traps them against his stomach. 

Eddie’s eyes fall to their hands, and his breath catches in his throat at the way their fingers rest intertwined against his stomach. He can’t look away- not when Steve’s fingers start drawing patterns over his skin, tracing the veins in his wrists, playing with his rings, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. 

Eddie has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from squealing. It only gets harder to keep quiet when something funny happens on screen- not that Eddie knows what is going on at all- and Steve laughs right in Eddie’s ear, squeezing his middle.

This time Eddie does let out a squeak which he hopes passes off as a laugh. 

It doesn’t.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie doesn’t know how he expects him to give a coherent answer when he can feel Steve’s nose poking his cheek.

Their faces are so close that if Eddie turned his head to the side his lips would brush against Steve’s, he would only need to lean in an inch or two and he’d be kissing him-

“Eds?” 

“Mhm, I’m great, Stevie boy!” Eddie says with a slightly strangled voice, but it’s enough for Steve, who turns his attention back to the movie. 

Eddie still has no idea of what’s going on, but he tries his damnedest to focus on that instead of focusing on all the ways Steve is touching him right now. 

He didn’t plan for this- he just wanted to mess with Steve a little and now he’s the one being messed with. 

Not that Steve knows what he’s doing. He would never fuck with Eddie like this if he knew about his big crush on him. He’s just oblivious- and incredibly touchy when it comes to Eddie. 

Which makes the remaining forty minutes spent in Steve’s arms both Eddie’s personal heaven and his personal hell.

That’s why when the credits starts to roll, Eddie lets out a relieved sigh. He expects Steve to push him off right away, but he doesn’t, not even when little by little everyone starts to clear out. Buckley jumps to her feet and clumsily sprints towards the bathroom, the kids all rush to the kitchen to raid Steve’s pantry while ignoring his protests and Nancy and Jonathan start gathering the pillows and the blankets scattered on the floor. 

Meanwhile, Steve squeezes Eddie’s side again and asks right into his ear- 

“You’re spending the night, right, Eds?” 

He knows Steve means to sleep. They talked about it when they realized that with Nancy and Jonathan both coming to movie night, Eddie wouldn’t need to drop the kids off afterwards so he could sleep over. It’s nothing new- they’ve been doing it for months. It’s just the way he’s asking right now, quietly and right into Eddie’s ear, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s middle- all of it makes Eddie’s stomach flutter wildly. 

“Y-yeah, sure thing, Stevie.”

“Okay, good,” Steve says, giving Eddie’s waist one last squeeze before finally pushing him off him and onto the couch gently so he can deal with whatever mess the kids can be heard making in the kitchen. 

Eddie slumps against the couch, sighing wistfully. Despite everything, he already misses the way Steve felt under him, how his arms felt around him, how his fingers felt playing with his own. 

“You good, man?” Jonathan asks, pausing as he folds one of the blankets to raise an eyebrow at him.

Eddie gives him two thumbs up that Jonathan accepts with a nod before he goes back to the task at hand, chatting with Nancy about the movie. Eddie is lucky that they don’t ask for his opinion on it- he doesn’t know if he’d be able to lie convincingly. 

Soon enough everyone is saying goodbye to Eddie and Steve before some of them climb into Nancy’s car and the rest do the same in Jonathan’s. They don’t question that Eddie is staying- the only one who acknowledges it is Robin, who gives Eddie that same knowing smile from before. And just like he did before, Eddie ignores it. 

Once it’s just the two of them, Steve starts guiding them to his bedroom. 

Eddie stopped sleeping in a guest room a long time ago after one night when a particularly awful nightmare had him knocking on Steve’s door and crawling into his bed. 

The next day, they both admitted it was the best sleep they’d had in weeks. 

The next time Eddie spent the night, Steve had led them both to his bedroom right away- just like every night after that.

“What did you think of the movie?” Steve asks, digging through his closet for sleeping clothes. 

“Um,” Eddie starts, trying to remember at least one thing about the movie he can comment on but coming up blank. “I, uh, didn’t pay much attention to it.”

Oblivious to the reason why Eddie didn’t pay attention, Steve hums. “Not your thing, huh? Next movie night you can be the one to pick.” He turns around and tosses some clothes at Eddie, who fumbles to catch them- and fails. Steve sniggers at him before he starts looking for clothes for himself. 

Eddie picks his up- a pair of Steve’s old basketball shorts and one of Eddie’s own band t-shirts that he must’ve left here at some point. Or Steve might’ve grabbed from his trailer. Beds aren’t the only thing they share these days. 

“Will you save me a seat next movie night?”

Steve glances at Eddie over his shoulder, his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Maybe I’ll just have you sit on my lap again,” he says with a wink. Good lord.

Eddie makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat at the thought of another movie night spent on Steve’s lap. Then, before Steve can ask if he’s okay, he gestures to the bathroom and locks himself there to change.

When he comes back out, Steve is starfished on his bed, wearing his own pair of basketball shorts and an old swim meet shirt.

Eddie takes a moment to stare at him- the way the shorts ride up on his legs, the way his arms bulge even when he isn’t flexing them, the way his hair fans across his pillow.

Then he impulsively sprints towards the bed and launches himself on top of Steve. 

He lets out a pained noise when Eddie lands on him, knocking the wind out of him, but his hands come up to grab Eddie’s arms, holding him in place and not letting him slide off him and onto the bed like he intended to.

“Seriously, dude?” Steve asks, slightly out of breath. 

Eddie laughs into his shoulder. “Sorry, Stevie, I couldn’t help myself.” 

Steve huffs. “I’m starting to think you like being on top of me.”

Eddie shrugs. “Actually, I usually picture you on top.”

Steve snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement, and Eddie’s cheeks blaze red as he belatedly realizes what he just blurted out. 

He doesn’t know what to do next. If he should play it off as a joke or climb off of Steve and run out of the house- 

He thinks Steve is making the decision for him when he adjusts the grip he has on his arms. He thinks he’s about to shove Eddie off, tell him that it’s never gonna happen, Eds. 

Eddie starts to push himself up, feeling embarrassed already-

But then Steve digs his fingers into his arms, and in one swift movement, he flips them over so it’s Eddie laying flat on his back on the bed with Steve hovering over him, smirking playfully. “Like this?” 

Eddie blinks at him, waiting for his brain to restart after completely shutting down from how effortlessly Steve flipped them over. 

“I- huh? Steve- what-” 

“You said you like to picture me on top,” Steve says, shrugging casually. Their hips are pressed together and their faces are only inches apart- Eddie doesn’t understand how Steve can act casual about anything right now. “Personally, I don’t have a preference. I also liked being under you.” 

Eddie splutters. “S- Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve asks innocently, tilting his head like a confused puppy. His hips shift and Eddie realizes just how thin the material of their shorts is. Jesus H. Christ.

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters. 

“What the fuck what?” 

Steve can’t be this oblivious, for fuck’s sake. 

Eddie covers his face with his hands, taking a deep breath. “Jesus fuck, okay. Steve, when I said- I didn’t mean it as a joke, okay? I didn’t mean to say it at all, but I- our crotches are basically pressed together right now and I can’t not say it. I have a fucking- honestly a fucking embarrassing crush on you so when I said I think about you on top of me, I meant it, and I meant it in like, a sexual way and a- a romantic way and I know you’re joking right now, but this- well, this is about to get reeeally awkward really fast if you don’t get off of me.” 

Eddie peeks through his fingers and finds Steve biting his lower lip like he’s thinking something over. 

“Do you want me to move?” 

“Fuck, no,” Eddie admits with a sigh. “But Steve-”

“Eddie, hey,” Steve cuts in, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and trying to move his hand away from his face. “Look at me.” 

With another sigh, Eddie complies, lowering his hands and looking at Steve.

“There you are,” Steve says, his eyes softening when they meet Eddie’s. 

“Steve-”

“I’m not joking,” Steve tells him. “I like you too, Eddie. Romantically, sexually, all of it.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. He blinks at Steve. “But- but you’re- you’re straight.”

“I’m not actually,” Steve snorts. When Eddie just stares at him, mouth agape, he sighs. “Eds, I let you sit on my lap for two hours, I basically spooned you.” He looks down between them and looks back at Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “I’m literally straddling you right now-” 

“I’m aware,” Eddie mutters, his voice coming out slightly strangled. 

Steve ignores him. “And I really really like you, so- definitely not straight.” 

Eddie lays there in silence for a few seconds as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that not only is Steve Harrington into guys, he’s into Eddie. 

“Holy shit,” he says finally and then, “why- why didn’t you say anything? You had to know I like you back.”

Steve gives a half shrug. “I thought I’d ease you into it first-”

“Ease me into it?” Eddie’s voice is about an octave too high. “You call this easing me into it? I think my brain melted out of my ears when you flipped us over like that!”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Well, you sat on top of me first! I was just taking a page out of your own book-”

“What book? There’s no book! I was just joking, you were the one who trapped me there!”

“Well, when the guy you’ve had a crush on for months sits on your lap you don’t let him go,” Steve admits, shyly ducking his head. 

Eddie gulps. “Months?”

“Yeah, Eddie, months,” Steve admits, his fingers absently playing with Eddie’s hair where it fans across the bed.

“Holy shit.”

“You’re just gonna keep saying that?” Steve asks with a sheepish grin. 

“What do you want me to say?” He’ll say anything Steve wants him to just to keep them both like this. 

Steve’s eyes dart down to Eddie’s mouth. “Nothing, actually,” he says, licking his lips. “I want you to kiss me.”

Holy shit, Eddie thinks to himself, and then without another thought, he surges up, looping his arms around Steve’s shoulders as he all but mashes their lips together.

Steve hums into Eddie’s mouth and melts into him, kissing Eddie back. He lowers his arms, holding himself up with one elbow, using his other hand to cup Eddie’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. His lips move against Eddie’s so tenderly and slowly that it makes his stomach fill with butterflies.

Then Steve tongues gently at Eddie’s bottom lip and the butterflies explode. 

Eddie immediately parts his mouth, giving Steve permission, and his eyes nearly roll back when Steve slips his tongue inside, deepening the kiss. Eddie cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, giving it a soft pull, causing Steve to make this punched-out groaning sound. Chasing that sound with his tongue, Eddie carefully explores every inch of Steve’s mouth.

Eventually, Steve starts to slow down the kiss, but Eddie doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to breathe, he just wants to kiss him, but he can’t do anything when Steve leans back and out of reach, the lower part of his body trapping him against the bed.

Unless-

Eddie grabs Steve’s arms and tries to flip them the way Steve did earlier but, while he made it look easy and effortless, Eddie can’t find enough leverage to budge Steve and he flops back down.

“Motherfucker,” Eddie huffs. “How did you make it seem so easy?”

“It is easy,” Steve says with a grin. “You’re just not strong enough, baby.”

Eddie squeals at the pet name- and then squeals again when Steve successfully flips them over again so that Eddie is straddling him.

He grins up at Eddie, that lopsided boyish grin that drives Eddie crazy and that it’s only worse now that Steve’s lips are red and slick with spit. “How’s that?” 

“Hot. Christ, that’s fucking hot,” Eddie says with a breathless chuckle. 

“So, that’s a yes to being on top?” Steve asks with a raised eyebrow, his hands grabbing Eddie’s hips like they did back on the couch. Only this time Eddie isn’t planning on getting off of him any time soon. Preferably never. 

“Sweetheart, that’s a yes to absolutely anything ever.”

Steve bites his lip, then he asks softly, “What if I ask you to be my boyfriend?”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a halt. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “You-you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Pretty fucking badly actually,” Steve shyly admits. 

Eddie whimpers softly. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he swoops down and gives Steve a kiss that he hopes translates to fucking shit yes! 

By the way Steve laughs delightedly against Eddie’s lips, he thinks he gets the message across. 

[mintyys-blog]

Can you pls do a robin!reader(from teen titans) x viltrumite mark.but after viltrumite mark takes over the world,robin!reader have to fight him to save the world.

FAILED | viltrumite mark x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: fighting, no good ending.

Smoke rose from the wreckage of Jump City.

Cracked buildings loomed like tombstones, and the T-shaped Titan Tower lay broken in half, its silhouette a mockery of the heroes who once lived there. Fires raged in the distance, unchecked—because no one was left to put them out.

You stood on the roof of what remained of city hall, battered and bloody in your torn Robin uniform. Your hands trembled as you loaded your last birdarang. The wind whipped your cape around like it was trying to drag you away, away from this moment. But you wouldn’t run. You never did.

Not even from him.

A sonic boom shattered the sky. And then, he was there.

Mark Grayson—Invincible. No… not anymore.

Now he was something else. Something far worse.

Red eyes. Bloodstained Viltrumite armor. Hovering inches off the rooftop, looking down at you like you were just a memory from a dream he’d outgrown.

“…Y/N,” he said, voice softer than you expected. “Why are you doing this?”

You grit your teeth, stepping forward. “You know why. You’re not the Mark I knew. The Mark I—” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “The Mark I loved wouldn’t have burned cities. He wouldn’t have made graves of children.”

His face twitched. Just for a second. And you saw it—him. A flicker of guilt. Remorse.

But it vanished as quickly as it came.

“I gave you a chance,” he murmured. “I asked you to stand beside me. You could’ve ruled by my side.”

“I’d rather die on my feet than kneel at yours.”

The words stung, and you knew they did—because his expression darkened, and the wind howled louder around him. But you moved first, launching yourself into the air, baton in one hand, birdarang in the other.

You hit him. Once. Twice.

A clean strike to the jaw. Another to the side of his temple. You flipped and landed behind him, launching a grapple line, yanking him down into the concrete.

But then— Everything stopped.

He blurred. And before you could blink, he was behind you. You felt a cold hand on the back of your neck, two fingers pressing against your spine.

There was a sickening pop.

Your body hit the ground before your mind caught up. You couldn’t feel your legs. Your arms twitched once—then went still.

“…No,” you whispered, your voice barely above the crackle of flames nearby.

Mark kneeled beside you, his face unreadable. “You’re not dead,” he said, quietly. “I made sure of that. Your spine is severed. You won’t walk again. You won’t fight me again.”

Tears welled in your eyes—not from pain, but from betrayal. “You… you could’ve killed me. Why didn’t you?”

He looked away, jaw clenched.

“Because I still love you,” he admitted, and for the first time, his voice cracked. “And I can’t keep watching you throw your life away fighting me. So I made sure you wouldn’t.”

You stared at him, tears streaking down your dirt-smeared face.

“You monster,” you whispered.

Mark stood, hovering again, cape flowing behind him like some cruel god’s shroud. “I’ll rebuild the world. A better one. You’ll see, Y/N. And maybe… maybe someday, you’ll forgive me.”

You screamed his name, screamed until your voice broke, as he vanished into the sky.

And you were left there, broken, paralyzed, staring at the sky, wondering how love could survive in the ruins of the world.

The world didn’t know what had become of you.

To the surviving humans, you were another lost Titan—another hero buried beneath Viltrumite boots. And in a way, they weren’t wrong.

You were taken.

Mark didn’t leave you to die on that rooftop. Instead, as you slipped in and out of consciousness from shock and blood loss, he cradled your limp body in his arms and flew—fast, like he was afraid the sky itself would try to steal you back.

When you woke, it was in a place far removed from the war-torn Earth. A tower of alien alloy, shining white and gold, perched above the clouds like a monument to his new empire. You were in a room made just for you—comfortable, warm, luxurious. But it was still a prison.

You couldn’t move from the neck down. Couldn’t fight. Couldn’t run.

You were wheeled to the window every morning by silent drones, always facing the skyline, always with Mark watching from a distance.

He came to see you every night.

Tonight was no different.

The doors hissed open and closed with a soft chime. You didn’t look at him, just stared at the stars bleeding into dusk.

He stood behind you, silent.

“You shouldn’t have brought me here,” you said flatly. Your voice had regained some strength in the past weeks, but the hatred in it never faded. “You should’ve let me die fighting.”

Mark’s voice was low. “I couldn’t.”

“Because you love me?” You laughed bitterly. “You paralyzed me, Mark. Took away my life. My friends. My purpose. What part of this is love?”

He walked to your side slowly, crouched to eye level. His face was calmer now—like he wasn’t the conqueror anymore, just the boy you used to know. But you weren’t fooled.

“You were never going to stop fighting,” he said. “Even if it killed you.”

“That’s what heroes do,” you spat.

He didn’t flinch. “Not anymore. There are no more heroes. Just survivors. And I didn’t want to lose you too.”

You wanted to slap him, to scream, to do something. But your body wouldn’t obey. All you had were words—and hatred.

“So what now?” you asked. “You keep me here like a trophy? A reminder of who you used to be? Or are you hoping I’ll forget everything and fall back in love with you?”

Mark didn’t answer right away. He just looked out the window.

“I hope,” he said quietly, “that one day, you’ll stop hating me long enough to see the world I’m building. And maybe… you’ll want to be part of it.”

You looked at him then—really looked. The blood was gone from his armor. His hands were clean. But nothing he could build would ever erase what he’d done.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.

The silence said it all.

And still, he stayed there at your side, like he couldn’t bear to leave you again.

Even if he already had.

[runninriot]

Pining Idiots

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 28

prompt: pining | rated: T | wc: 1.000 | tags: post vecna, mild angst, feelings realisation, love confession, friends to lovers, best friend Robin Buckley

   "You are both so stupid. Hopeless and stupid." Robin throws her hands in the air, frustrated and all out of patience.

Steve must've heard her say those words about a hundred times already but still, he can't find it in him to believe that there's even a flicker of truth within her reasoning.

If Robin were right, Steve would've caught Eddie by now, apparently stealing glances at him. Because there's no way he'd miss Eddie's dark eyes lingering on him, not when Steve's own - for whatever reason - are constantly locked on the guy. He feels naturally drawn to Eddie, has this weird connection to him he can't really explain. But contrary to what Robin is trying to make him consider, he doesn't accept that it's... love.

They're friends. Good friends, maybe even the best. Grown so close over time that now, barely a day goes by where they don't spend time together. Always attached at the hip, somehow even worse than he is with Robin. And yes, Steve gets that it comes off strange for any outsider to see them cuddling and touching and kissing each other goodbye on the cheek without shame. That's not what male friends do, not usually. But fuck that, it's nice.

He enjoys the physical contact. Likes to relish in the other man's warmth when their bodies are pressed together on the couch, one arm around the other's shoulders, or a hand resting on the other's thigh. He likes the familiar scent of leather and cigarette smoke that clings to Eddie's hair and skin, enveloping Steve's senses whenever they're close. Eddie's presence calms him, makes him feel less on edge. After all those years of fighting Demons, it's a blessing to feel at ease.

Eddie is good for him. And Steve knows he, too, has an impact on Eddie. That he's less fidgety when Steve is near. That whenever the healed wounds start to phantom-ache, Steve's hand atop his shirt soothes his body's memorised pain.

They're each other's lifeline, something to hold on to when the turbulent waters of nightmarish dreams threaten to pull them down. This... trauma bond they share, this friendship, keeps them both afloat. But that's all there is to it.

They are not the pining idiots Robin says they are. Apparently too afraid of their feelings for each other, unable to acknowledge that there is something more between them. Emotions allegedly written all over their faces – Robin says it’s obvious, but it’s not.

This isn't love.

It can't be. Steve cannot let himself fall for this ridiculous idea. Because once he goes down that path, once he starts listening close to his heart in search of the truth, there will be no going back.

And he's not ready to lose what he has. Because inevitably, that would be the result of him breaking down the walls he's built to keep his own emotions in check.

Steve cannot love like a normal human being. He is too much, wants too much, gives too much - his love is smothering. All-consuming.

He'd only push Eddie away.

   "Why don't you just ask him?"

Robin's words rip him out of his thoughts and he blinks at her confused.

They're still standing in the kitchen, their friend's voices coming from the other room.

   "You know, if you don't believe me, why don't you ask him if it's true? And if it's not, well. You got nothing to lose. 'Cause you're not in love with him anyway, right?"

He doesn't miss the teasing tone, knows she's testing him, trying to break through his thick skull because she knows that he's lying to himself. Knows him better than he knows himself.

   "And what if you're right?" he asks, seemingly catching her off guard with his question.

   "What if you're right and he does love me back. What then? You really think I won't fuck it up again this time? That I won't ruin it again?"

It hurts to say out loud, to admit that his worst fear isn't rejection. It's the thought of having himself to blame for when it doesn't work out. As always.

And it hurts even more when Robin's face suddenly softens, eyes full of pity when she takes his hands in hers.

   "Babe. It wasn't your fault. Nancy- wasn't the one for you, that's all. You were both meant for someone else, and you-" she squeezes his hands for emphasis, "You could have all those things your stupid, big heart is yearning for. Your person is sitting right there, probably already losing his mind because you've been gone from his side for too long."

Robin laughs but her eyes are glassy and Steve can feel a tear making its way down his own face.

Fuck her for always hitting him right where it aches the most. Where her unforgiving honesty settles and sticks and makes something warm spread in his chest.

   "I know he loves you. And, as dreadful as the thought is because you two are going to be the worst couple ever, I hate to see you both suffer over nothing. Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel."

She pulls him into a hug, holds him tight while he lets his tears fall unrestrained. It's relieving but scary, because she is right.

   "Hey, uh, everything okay?" Eddie's voice suddenly breaks through the silence, startling them apart.

   "Glad you're here," Robin says, "Steve's got something to tell you." And with that, she leaves, a big grin on her face that only grows wider when Steve huffs out a wet laugh, mouthing 'I hate you' at her.

   "Stevie, are you okay? Have you been crying? What's wrong?"

Steve melts at the softness of Eddie's words, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

   "I- I think I'm in love with you, Eddie."

After a moment of silence, Eddie's lips curl into a smile.

   "Oh, well. If you're sure, let me know. I've been dying to finally kiss your pretty mouth.”

[blubunz]

SPECIAL TO ME

— stepdad! bruce wayne x f! stepdaughter! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: stepcest, spanking, dubcon, talks about abduction/rape, fingering.

A/N: This feels so poorly written i apologize. Afraid I didn't put all the efforts in this one omg :(

“Told you to wear something formal, sweetie.” Bruce gives you a hard glare once you two got home. His eyes trailing down your exposed backside before you turn over, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I am.” You state, not understanding what's so wrong with your outfit. Bruce knows whats wrong, though. You're his daughter, sure, not blood-related, but he legally has you live under his roof. You're not like his exes, you don't get the same freedom they have because Bruce's love life is a mess.

He knows what's wrong with your outfit, how it's too revealing without it shouting out "I'm a whore!" It's more subtle. Tight dress hugging your form, the backside is shown to your lower back, and your front. God, he could almost see how you're not even considering covering up under there, with the middle part of your cleavage shown like it's the most natural thing.

It would be fine if you weren't his daughter, but you are. You're his, just not in the same way like others.

“You're not. Did you even realised how many people were looking at you?” Bruce is known as a playboy, but he wouldn't want his daughter to be one.

“Uh, yeah? They said I'm pretty.” You smile, still not noticing how he fumes the longer he looks at you.

He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“They are lusting after you. I can't allow my daughter to be seen like that.” He explains, stepping closer to you and holding your cheeks. “Look, I'm just looking out for you—”

You swat his hand down. “I'm old enough, dad. I know what I'm doing.” You look up at him. “Besides, you don't know what I really want or like, I've been here for just two years.”

“I know enough.” He says, eyebrows furrow. He knows everything, actually. Bruce had to dig every little teensy bitsy information about you before taking you in.

The firm tone sends chills down your spine, but stands your ground. You cross your arms though, acting sulky and looking away.

“You don't—!”

“Enough!”

You shut up. Lips closed and teeth clenched.

“...Sorry, kid.” He shamefully murmurs, getting closer and strokes your shoulders. “Didn't mean to. But, you've pushed me.”

You don't answer, so he cups your cheeks. His calloused hands are big enough to grab your whole face, maybe the back of your head when he pounds you deep.

“I'll go to my room—”

“No.” He quickly says. “I was wrong for shouting at you, but you needed to be taught a lesson too for your misbehavior.”

“What? Just because I wear something that doesn't fit in your eyes?”

His jaw clenches, and he wordlessly drags you up the stairs. You gasp, startled, and start to ask what's going on, but he doesn't answer, just pulls you to his room.

Bruce throws you on the bed, towering over you whilst a hand has a tight hold on your wrist.

“It's because you could've gotten used.” He says, pushing you back on the bed and slowly getting on top of you. “Like this.”

Bruce cradles your cheek and kisses your forehead. “Do you really want that? To be taken away unwillingly and have your body used by some strangers?”

You shake your head fearfully, eyes widening the closer he gets close to you.

“No? Well, you should listen to your own dad.” He grits out. “Sorry, sweetie. But a punishment is set in stone. Roll over.”

He commands you like a dog, and you quietly follow, laying on your stomach and he pulls you back until your knees hit the floor. Bruce gently rubs your ass through the dress, clicking his tongue.

“No daughter of mine will dressed like this. I'll allow it when you've learned how to properly defend yourself like the others.”

The others. You wince at that. You're not a Robin to begin with, so it stings whenever Bruce compares them to you. Sure, you're older than some of them. But you're still weaker in a physical term.

A loud gasp escapes you when he delivers a smack on your ass. You look back at him with your usual wide eyes, silently begging for him to stop. He doesn't care, keeps slapping your cheeks harder and harder.

You're not sure why, but the pain eventually dissolves into pleasure. Your eyes squeezed shut, and now you're holding back moans instead of screams.

Tears rolling down your cheeks, staining the makeup that has yet to be wiped. Your thighs clamp together, slightly wriggling your hips to find some friction. It doesn't go unnoticed by him, he holds your head down, pinning you against the mattress as he pulls your dress up and panties down.

You shudders as the cold air hits your cunt, fat and dripping down the panties like lava. Your ass is red, hand prints scatter around them.

“I bet you'd want to get abducted then.” He comments dryly, plunging two fingers deep in your cunt, taking notice of the wet sound it emits. Shlick... shlick, shlick— It grows more frequent as he speeds up the pace, pulling your hair back to hear your shameless moans.

“Is my little stepdaughter that sweet of a slut?” Bruce asks, and you're too in bliss to answer, desperately grinding down his fingers. It feels too good not to enjoy it. Sure, he's your stepfather. But when his massive fingers are stirring your insides like that, how could you not like it? He's skilled too, extremely as well. Each thrust has you see stars, a higher pitched moan escapes your lips when he does.

He gets you cumming hard for the first time in awhile in under five minutes. You squirt out hard, staining his sheets and the floor.

You're practically drained, legs shaking and trembling. Lightheaded and unable to move, Bruce decides to bring you to the bathroom himself. You two spend at least an hour in there.

[prlssprfctn]

"Who Is Afraid of Little Old Me?" is so Jason Todd core, and you are READY for this conversation.

'The scandal was contained

The bullet had just grazed

At all costs, keep your good name

You don't get to tell me you feel bad'

You tell me it is not about that one time Batman had finally faced Red Hood, with Joker being between them - as a reminder and a choice - ended up throwing a batarang in his neck (while Jason barely hurt him) and never told anyone else about this?

Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke

Then we could all just laugh until I cry

And you tell me this is not about Jason's death? About his last minutes with Joker, about how they forever imprinted in the core of his memory, to the point that sometimes he laughs at them instinctively, until the realization doesn't kick in?

So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street

Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream

"Who's afraid of little old me?"

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean

"Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

Who's afraid of little old me?

Well, you should be

Is it not Red Hood who is back again, trying to return to Manor to remind others what happened to him?

So tell me everything is not about me

But what if it is?

Then say they didn't do it to hurt me

But what if they did?

… I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

Had Bruce and Dick ever wanted to hurt Jason, both in the past and in the present? No. Did it still happen? Is Jason still the one to live with these memories, unable to explain how it makes him feel? Yes.

So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs

I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn

That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong

And if I say it is about Jason and all the kids that came after him that doesn't fully know who he is, but heard stories of Red Hood and violent Robin? They don't know a little boy who thought Robin gave him magic, the boy that died a hero — but they know Red Hood. And they heard of what a doomed, angry Robin he used to be.

And you hurt me

And you taught me

… You caged me and then you called me crazy

I am what I am 'cause you trained me

What is it if not Jason's POV towards Bruce? He is the crazy one now, a killer, a wrong one (not to mention these comics, where they actually threaten to send him to Arkham or Blackgate), but he is his father. His mentor. Still.

And some additional parts I want to add, because I think that they speak volumes too:

- "But my bare hands paved their paths, you don't get to tell me about sad"? I can't fully explain to you what I mean by putting this quote, but it is about Jason, crawling out from his grave (literally) and it is about everyone who stepped on the Robin path after. It is about his family making his death and grief about themselves at some point, leaving him nothing;

- "If you wanted me dead, you should've just said. Nothing makes me feel more alive" just one sentence — it is Jason about the batarang incident;

- A little detail, but I heard a lot of people complaining after the song's release that "Who is afraid of little old me?!" parts were at first loud, and they expected it to get to the full scream, but only ever got it becoming weaker, almost a whisper-like. And it is so Jason, too. Because he returns to scream, to yell, and he does at first. Until his anger washes out under disappointment and realization that he will never be chosen in a way he chooses people. And he doesn't scream anymore. Just whispers.

[flammingnachos]

“𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 （）𝗋𝗈𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖺 𝗓𝗈𝗋𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 （𝘔）

𝖲𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌；You know that Zoro's hygiene has been, to put it lightly, lax. You decide that enough is enough, and with a little encouragement from Nami, you decide that there's only one option to convince him. Shower sex.

It’s been 6 days. You think to yourself with a small shudder. The first few days, you almost don’t mind. It’s kinda sexy, the musty scent. It’s a reminder of the hard work that he puts himself through daily. And of course, the visual benefits of that work are certainly worth a mild stench. But 6 days? It’s beyond a mild stench now. It’s a fucking identity trait. You’d only been together for a couple months, so you don’t exactly know what the proper way to bring up this kind of shit. Like “hey babe, I’d love to really take a trip to the bone zone and all, but if we do right now, Brook isn’t gonna be the only dead one on the ship.” Even if you did say that, he’d be so confused, the adorable idiot, and probably pretty dejected too. You sigh, squeezing your eyes closed and press your fingertips to your temples.

“I’m just gonna have to manipulate the poor boy.” You decide out loud, having no idea how to manage that.

“Who are we manipulating?” Nami pops her head in the room with a sly grin. You nod your head in a greeting to her.

“Zoro,” you say with exasperation. “To take a shower.”

Nami laughs loudly. “Good fucking luck,” she’s almost crying with how hard she’s laughing. “I’ve been barking up that tree since the literal day I met him.”

This is not what you needed to hear. You groan and flop back on your mattress, clapping your hand over your eyes. After another few moments of laughing, you feel Nami sit next to you on the edge of the bed.

“Y/n, the answer is obvious.”

You raise an eyebrow and glance up at through the parted fingers over your eyes. “Oh?” You ask.

“Shower sex, duh.” Nami replies, sticking her tongue out at you with a wink.

You flush. Goddamn it. You think. Seductive manipulation is not precisely your forte. Especially with someone as completely dense as Zoro. In some ways, Zoro is one of the most intelligent people you know. He’s instinctual, able to observe his environment, adaptable and cunning in a fight. But with other people? That he actually likes? Let’s just say the wheel is spinning, but the hamster’s dead. Very dead.

“I was afraid of this,” you say gravely.

Nami rolls her eyes. “Christ, y/n. You’re acting like it’s such a chore to have sex with your boyfriend.”

“UGH.” You throw a pillow at her, and she cackles again as she stands up to walk towards the door.

“You’re a true champ, y/n. From all of us Straw-hat Pirates, we thank you for your service.” She salutes, dodging another pillow that you chuck her direction as she walks out the door.

As you sit on the edge of your bed, you grab the last pillow left and shove it into your face, letting it stifle the almost inhuman, frustrated screech that rips through your throat. The sound dissipates, and you stand up, heading up to the Crow’s Nest, where you know the smelly swordsman will be. Nami and Robin snicker at you as you pass and you flip them off crudely. You climb up the ladder to the Crow’s Nest and open the hatch, pulling yourself inside.

You smell him before you can see him.

Why am I doing this to myself? Why?

You turn towards the sound of heavy breathing and you see Zoro, in all his bare-chested glory, doing one-armed hand stand push-ups while he used the free arm to curl a massive dumbbell.

Oh yeah, that’s why.

His back is to you, so you’re able to watch the muscles of his back and shoulders ripple beneath his tanned skin effortlessly. He’s taken his long green coat off, leaving him in only his pants and boots. You can see droplets of sweat dripping down his back, each bead following a different muscular curve. He makes soft grunting noises with each rep and you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your heart race. You clear your throat softly, hoping to gain his attention. He doesn’t turn, only switching the role of each arm.

So, you try again, this time a bit louder. You watch him stiffen at the disturbance, his head shooting up between his arms to look at the intruder. His steely eyes meet yours and soften, along with his body and he gives you a grin, clearly pleased to see you. He pushes himself up and flips upright to land on his feet before turning to greet you.

“Hey y/n,” He smiles again and grabs a towel off a rack to wipe his face and hair.

He begins to walk toward you and you almost forget your mission. He looks so handsome, especially with that wide grin that he typically only reserves for you. His green hair is damp, making it a slightly darker shade than usual, and he drapes the towel over the back of his neck. He halts in front of you, his hands moving to grip each end of the towel casually. “What’s up?” He says.

You realize you haven’t taken a breath for a few moments, and you inhale to reply to him. Rookie mistake.

The smell of him hits you again, and you cough without warning. Shit, you think. Don’t screw around, y’n. Get this damn mosshead in the shower with you pronto.

“Hey,” You reply, forcing yourself into a smile. “Just came up here to check on you. How are you doing?”

He smiles again, the oblivious bastard. “Oh, okay. I’m fine. Just doing the usual,” he replies. “Shit, your face had me going for a second. I thought something might be wrong,”

He chuckles. You pause a beat too long. He notices. Fuck.

“…is there something wrong, y/n?” He asks, now somewhat nervous.

“Oh no!” You say too quickly. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. I just came up here because…”

You know you need to calm down if you’re going to attempt anything that mildly looks like seduction. You take a breath and drop your gaze, now looking at him from underneath your eyelashes flirtatiously.

“I came up here because I was about to take a shower...” You place a hand on his warm chest and push up to the shell of his ear. You lower your voice. “And I was wondering if you might want to join me?”

You feel him stiffen again beneath the hand on his chest and his breath hitch. His hands come up to lightly grip your hips.

“You what?” He asks, his voice suddenly a little rougher.

You kiss the soft skin just beneath his angled jaw. “Join me. In the shower.” You repeat.

His grip on your hips tightens for a second before he grabs your hand suddenly, pulling you towards the hatch of the Crow’s Nest. It’s so fast that you almost can’t process what’s happening. He opens the hatch with his foot.

“Oh, so you want to come?” You manage. He swoops you up into his arms and jumps down the hatch without regard to the ladder. You land firmly on the deck below and he doesn’t bother to set you down.

“Zoro?” You ask, mesmerized by the concentration on his face. He shifts to hold you with one arm as he opens the door to the bath house room, slamming it behind him. He sets you down and wraps strong arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

“Get in the shower. Now.” He commands. Internal screams. And in that moment, as the water turns on and your simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette quickly strips away the rest of his clothes, you don’t know what you’re more excited about, the amazing sex that you’re about to have, or the fact that the simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette is finally going to be fucking clean.

“Get in the shower. Now.” Zoro commands.

Holy shit, you think. If I’d known this would be the reaction, I’d’ve done it ages ago.

Zoro can barely keep his hands off of you, only pausing for a brief moment to reach behind him and turn on the faucet. His calloused fingers roam your clothed body, and you instinctively arch into him. He hums with approval. His lips, hungry for contact, pepper your jaw and neck with affection. You sigh and push closer, only slightly embarrassed when you feel him smirk against your skin. He knows you want him. The knot low in your stomach confirms this. His hands grip your ass, pulling your hips together, and you feel that he wants you too. Through the rough material of his pants, you feel his insistent desire and you can’t help but moan quietly. This elicits a moan from the greenette as well, his head falling to your shoulder, and you pull yourself out of your depravity long enough to feel smug.

“A bit excited are we?” You tease in a whisper.

He growls and pulls your shirt off of your shoulder to bite your collarbone. “Did you not hear me the first time?” His hands go to the waistband of your shorts. “Get. In. The. Shower.”

Your vaingloriousness quickly falls to the wayside as he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down swiftly along with your underwear. You feel a rush of heat over your body and your urgency now matches his. Deftly, your fingers do away with his pants and boxers as one of his hands now gropes your naked ass. The other, ever more impatient, moves to the nape of your neck and the collar of your shirt. All of your attention, by necessity, is on getting him naked, so you almost don’t notice the rip of fabric being torn from your body until you feel your nipples suddenly harden with exposure to the air in the room.

You mewl as the steam fills up the small cubicle. He doesn’t give you any more time. He lifts you up. “Wrap your legs around me.” It isn’t a question. You comply. With a moan, you feel your core tighten as another flood of wetness seeps out of your pussy.

He groans too. “Fuck,” He can feel your wetness against the base of his cock. He steps the two of you into the shower.

The heat of the water is only matched by the heat between the two of you. Your legs, already wobbly, drop to the floor as he pushes you against the wall, the water streaming down his back as he leans back to look at you. Zoro is sex personified. It’s almost too overwhelming to take in all at once. His breathing is ragged. Your eyes and hands devour his broad chest, feeling each hard plane and individually curated muscle. His hair, now saturated with water, has evolved from its usual hue to a deep jewel toned emerald. His jaw is tight, but his full lips are parted with anticipation. His silver eyes, intense and hooded, bore through you, disarming you with their fervor.

He can’t take it anymore.

His lips crush to yours and you groan loudly against his mouth. One of his hands tangles through your hair, holding your mouth exactly where he wants it. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and you gladly open your mouth for his perusal. His other hand moves to your full breast, massaging it roughly for a moment before he deftly flicks his thumb over your erect nipple. You squirm under his touch. He hums because he knows you love when he plays with your tits. Your hand drifts down to his length, gently caressing the skin there.

“Y/n,” He breathes, ripping his mouth from yours as you wrap your delicate fingers around the base of his cock. The water, hot and unrelenting, streams down your arm as you do so, and you sigh at the warmth of the contact. You’ve always been impressed by every part of Zoro, and his penis was no exception. You marvel at his thick length like it’s the first time you’ve ever been blessed with the opportunity to touch such a monument of masculine sexuality.

As you continue your ministrations, his lips trail down your neck and collarbone slowly, all the way to the height of your breast. He intentionally avoids your sensitive peak, and you squeeze his cock lightly as if to say, no fair. The hand in your hair moves to your hip.

He chuckles and slowly, painfully, flicks his tongue over your nipple. Once, twice, three times, before he begins to swirl it around the area. And to make matters worse, he mirrors his movements on your other breast with his opposite hand. He is playing dirty.

Dirtier than he is after 6 days without a shower, you think sarcastically to yourself.

He interrupts your thought by suddenly taking your erect peak into his mouth and sucking harshly. Your other hand immediately shoots grip to his green tresses, urging his mouth to continue. You begin to pant, the steam from the shower making the air thick and hot and damp. You feel the hand that was on your hip suddenly playing around the edges of your wet folds. He starts with your inner thighs, only his pinky brushing up against your aching core. You begin to pump him faster, moving to play with his balls every so often. Though he is trying to remain composed, his ragged breathing gives him away and his patience with teasing you begins to slip. Zoro’s thumb begins to rub your clit while his fingers move to your dripping opening.

Despite his own almost unbearable desire, he can’t resist taunting you a little. He pulls his mouth away from your breast to look at you. “Is that the shower I’m feeling, or are you really this wet, y/n?”

You see the cocky glint his eye and you want to wipe that smirk right off his face. Without warning, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself up to hover right above his stiff cock. Though he is taken off guard, he does not falter as he reflexively moves his hands to catch you. His strong hands hold you up under your ass as his mouth falls open slightly in surprise. He had enough strength for the both of you, and he holds you up with ease, keeping his balance and ensuring your safety as well.

You raise an eyebrow and tease your wet opening over his hard cock. You envelope the very tip of him, groaning as you feel him already stretching you. You both shiver with the promise of what is to come. Or who, is to come.

“Goddamn it, y/n, I can’t take it anymore,” He growls and slams you down onto him, immediately filling you to the hilt. The fullness nearly overwhelms you, your sight momentarily leaving you as you feel every thick inch of him against your inner walls. One strong arm wraps around the small of your back as he continues to hold you up. You love that he doesn’t need the wall for support, and your hand goes to grope his muscular shoulder and bicep in appreciation of his power.

Zoro, as with everything he does, is always intense in sex, and this time is no exception. The concentration is palpable on his face, a small v creasing between his eyebrows. His face is contorted in pleasure and a groan rumbles through his chest. His jaw is tight but his mouth is soft as he begins to thrust roughly into you.

“Oh God, Zoro,” You head lolls back, exposing your neck to him. He seizes the opportunity to begin kissing your neck and jaw, whispering your name again and again each iteration a little more wild, a little more broken. His cock feels incredible inside of you, the angle of each thrust stroking that undeniable pleasure point. The scene is entirely erotic. It’s all too much—far too much.

Each thrust is punctuated by a moan and the slapping of wet skin to wet skin. You feel Zoro’s body stiffen and you know that he’s getting close. The tell-tale build in your own core reflects the sentiment. With each stroke, you climb higher and higher and higher until your ecstasy is inexorable.

“Z-Zoro…” You manage with a gasp. “I’m about t-to…” He growls and his thrusts become even more wild—hard, manic, sure. Your lips find his ear and you gently tug on his earrings with your teeth, your last conscious action before your climax overtakes you. This is Zoro’s undoing.

“Y/n!” He yells, and you feel his seed spill hot inside of you.

You drown together in your pleasure, the waves crashing over both of you relentlessly. When your body is spent, you crumble against his chest and he wraps both of his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head, and rubs your back affectionately as he whispers your name under the still warm water. After a few moments, he sets you down. He offers his arm for stability and you take it with gratitude, leaning against him for another few moments before you separate. He smiles lazily down at you, almost bashful at his display. He rubs his free hand against the back of his neck, a slight flush on his face. You grin back and grab the bottle of soap from behind him and place it in his hand.

“Now,” You say after a long moment. “Get clean, marimo.”

He narrows his eyes. “You tricked me,” He says knowingly.

You grab your own body wash and begin to lather up. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

He stares for another long moment, considering, before he finally shrugs and squeezes some soap out onto his hands and begins to do the same.

You smile and kiss his cheek.

“Honestly,” He says, that grin creeping back on his face. “If this is what showering is going to be like with you around, I’ll shower every goddamn day.”

[namism]

Hello it's me! Sorry for being late sending this reply, but is it alright if I ask for the strawhat's with a dog hybrid reader that ends up taking the treasure off their ship? Sorry if this sounds crazy (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

mink on the run! the world's cutest thief | straw hats

➳ categories: canonverse, female canine mink reader

➳ word count: 2k

➳ summary: After scoring a gold mine on an island, the Straw Hats throw a celebration. Unbeknownst to them, a visitor decides to join in.

➳ notes: thanks for the request! 🧡 not sure how you wanted it to turn out but i ended up writing a one piece filler episode/scene. on that note, sorry not sorry chopper

➳ cross-posted on ao3

Odd things have been surrounding the Straw Hats lately. Robin was the first to sense that something felt off, then Usopp second. After that, everyone else followed, raising their concerns one by one.

Turns out it was just Luffy sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

Once that was settled, the rest of the crew kept their guard down for the rest of their stay on the island, hopping off the Thousand Sunny and roaming around the capital.

Nico Robin, however, still feels iffy.

Luffy's appetite did not spike her radar, so she doubted it was the cause. Looking at their circumstances, though, she understands if everybody else just shrugged it off because they're preparing for yet another celebration, the excitement fogging their heads.

Still, she decides to keep an eye out, afraid that something might be after them.

Brook is the first to notice her vigilance.

"You seem to be worried about something, Robin-san."

Robin tells him of her suspicions. To her surprise, Brook agrees to help her, and together, they go about their days keeping watch.

Unbeknownst to them, inside a little cask stowed away at the corner of the Thousand Sunny's lawn deck, emerges a canine mink previously in hiding.

You lift the lid of the cask and scan your surroundings before deciding to hop off. The sun is gone and the sky is dark, while the ship of the Straw Hat Pirates is, for once, silent.

Taking a whiff of the fresh air blowing from the combers of sea, you stretch your limbs and crack your bones to prepare your body for the strenuous movements needed for your extravagant plan. A small smirk forms on your lips when you eye the door to your right.

You force yourself into the room, but end up leaving disappointed as you realize that you're in the men's quarters. You step out quickly, then race up the steps by the foremast to check the room on the upper level.

Kicking the door open, you instantly smell the items you're after.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ship is the Straw Hats' cook, humming a soft tune to himself as he prepares tonight's dinner celebration for the entire crew and their acquainted islanders. In the middle of cooking, however, he smells something different in the air, and his senses start tingling.

He sets the gas stove on low and pokes his head out of the kitchen door, looking into the darkness to investigate the cause of his senses. When he's charmed by the scent, he pauses his cooking, promptly dashes out of the kitchen, and walks across the lawn.

That's when he notices the light emitting from the women's quarters. Faint and mysterious, Sanji decides to check it out, knowing well enough that Nami and Robin aren't on the ship at the moment. Suddenly, he runs into an equally confused Franky emerging from the basement, who quickly agrees to come with him to check the light.

When they get to the door, that's when they find the impostor.

"We got a thief!" yells Franky upon seeing you rummaging through Nami and Robin's items, your furry hands inches deep into the treasure chest that one of the girls has stationed beside the beds. Alarmed, you hop on your knees and throw two gigantic sacks of treasure on your back. "Aow! The thief is stealing Nami's treasure, and she's SUPER cute!"

Facing the two men by the door, you realize that you're trapped. Looking to your right, you find two portholes large enough for you to crawl out of.

Deciding to bail on your operation, you plead with the two men cutely, your eyes turning glossy and your eyebrows knitting together.

"Garchu!" you greet with your adorable puppy eyes. Realizing that you're a mink, the blond is immediately entranced, while the other stands his ground and doesn't react to your scheme.

Nonetheless, you hastily open the porthole and squeeze your sacks of treasure through them. Startled, the two men decide to go after you with the blue cyborg initiating the chase, but you're long gone from the Sunny by the time he forces his bulky metallic body through the opening.

Hopping off the ship, you look behind you with your tongue sticking out, barking in between laughs as you realize that they're chasing after you.

"My beautiful lady, wait up!" the blond man of the Straw Hats yells.

You make a face of disgust. "Ew, what's his problem?"

You make a beeline for the forest, dodging tree branches and obstacles swiftly to lose the men behind you, but they maintain their speed. You quicken your pace and head straight to the island capital, where you can hopefully blend into the crowds and disappear into the night.

As the festive crowd goes wild, mingling merrily with the Captain, sniper, musician, and talking reindeer of the Straw Hats, the top drinkers of the pirate crew congregate at the gazebo, where a competitive crowd cheers on their betted pirate. Nami wipes the corners of her mouth after having drunk another bottle dry, earning a snicker from Zoro, whose competitiveness coaxes him to grab another bottle of alcohol. Across from the two, Jinbe laughs heartily over his 15th cup, watching the chaos all go down.

Robin sits around a campfire with the island children, styling their hair into fishtail braids, when she feels something strange yet again. She looks behind her only to see Luffy and the others dancing around the pavilion, concluding that it might just be her paranoia talking.

She proves herself otherwise, however, once Franky and a heart-eyed Sanji emerge from the forest breathily.

"Aow! She's stealing our treasure!"

Robin looks across the pavilion and sees you, a canine mink, holding two fully loaded sacks of treasure and looking awfully similar to their friends back in Zou. You weave through the crowds with purpose, almost losing her attention, but she summons replicas of her hands on the ground where you walk, gripping your ankles.

Stumbling on your feet, you growl at the happenstance before leaping into the air forcefully, grabbing the attention of the many islanders around you. The music stops as gasps of surprise echo across the pavilion. Robin summons another handful of her limbs to restrain you, but you shock her with your Electro, allowing you to move around freely.

You land on top of the Straw Hats' Captain and sniper, knocking them on the ground with your two feet. Their reindeer and musician scream, and you pluck the pink cotton candy away from the reindeer's hands.

He starts crying, but you run away.

"MYYY LADYYY! Come back!"

Looking behind you, the blond cook from the Thousand Sunny is back on your trail with the blue-haired cyborg following him closely. You grumble under your breath and dash to the gazebo, where the crowd stays ignorant to the turn of events, too involved in the drinking competition they're hosting to care.

Suddenly, you leap across the table, triggering further chaos as you crash the competition. Jinbe and Nami scream, while Zoro ignores the commotion as he finishes the last of his alcohol.

"Give me that!"

You snatch the swordsman's cup and drink the last few drops of liquid, grimacing at the bitter taste. Angry, Zoro jumps to his feet and readies his swords to fight.

"Nami, that dog mink stole our treasure! Get her!"

At the sound of the cyborg's cries, you realize that you're in the presence of the woman whose room you were in earlier. Gulping, you hop off the table and sprint out of the gazebo. Nami, the woman with tangerine hair, begins to heat up at the news and reaches for her Clima-Tact.

To your luck, you're long gone from her sight before she could use her weapon. You head toward the maze of residences that engulf the city, taking sharp turns and running down alleyways to lose them.

Moments later, you run into a cute predicament.

"Stop right there! Freeze!"

A laugh erupts from your chest the moment you spot the Straw Hat's talking reindeer. He holds a small paw right in front of his other one in a kung fu stance, but he's so cute and tiny that you're incapable of feeling scared.

Looking at the cotton candy in your hand, a wicked idea comes to mind.

"Give back our treasure, you mink!" he growls.

"Ah, but that would just be upsetting." You feign a frown. "If I returned the treasure, will you-teia let me go?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Even with cotton candy?"

The reindeer's eyes soften as you wave the strawberry-flavored candy in your hand. His hands relax, and he slowly reaches out for it.

You hold it back.

"No can do. You-teia have to clean it first with water!"

You give him the candy and pull out a water bottle from your knapsack. With a wicked smile, you pour water onto the cotton candy, causing it to melt in the reindeer's hands until it's fully gone.

"All done! Enjoy!"

As you run past him in laughter, he realizes what you had just done, looking back and forth between the melted (practically non-existent) cotton candy in his hands and the spot where you once stood. Tears well up in his eyes a second time as he realizes that he just got fooled.

Two streets down from yours, an annoyed Zoro runs after a fuming Nami with her Clima-Tact out and ready to attack. Jinbe is on the other side of town with Brook and Usopp acting as lookouts. When she sees your tiny furry figure at the end of the street, the two humongous bags of the Straw Hats' precious treasure riding on your back, Nami erupts into flames and hurtles down the path to catch up to you.

You run faster. Suddenly, at an intersection where four streets meet at a marble sculpture of the island's ancient hero, appears the Straw Hats' idiot Captain and another one of his nakamas with the Paramecian Devil Fruit power, holding the talking reindeer in her arms.

"O-Oi, is this really the mink that made Chopper cry?" Luffy asks Robin as he looks at you confusedly. Chopper wails, flailing his hands around as rivers of tears flow down his face.

"T-That's her! S-She"—he sniffs—"she stole my cotton candy and made it disappear!"

The three watch you laugh, one arm clutching your stomach.

"There she is!" Franky's voice rings out from the street to the west, the creepy blond man running after him.

"Get the treasure and stop her, you idiots!" Nami commands from behind, and the Straw Hats follow immediately. You channel your Electro and shoot bolts toward them, effectively knocking them down besides Nami and their Captain. Nami unravels her Clima-Tact, generating a gigantic Thunder Ball of electrified air. She hurls the ball toward you, but you send it flying back with a magnified fist of your Electro.

"What do you think you're doing?! You can't do that to my crew!" Luffy hops on your head and blocks your line of sight. You scream.

"Get off me!" You push him off you as you run out of breath. Digging into your knapsack, you grab the piece of venison meat you were saving for dinner and shove it in his mouth. Luffy bites down on the meat, distracted, so you take the opportunity to leave, heading east.

Despite your attacks, the blond man of the crew—Sanji, you believe his name is—stands back up feebly and uses every bit of his energy to still run after you.

He closes the distance between you, but he's too slow to catch up as he sees you stand on the ledge of a stone bridge.

Turning around, you shoot him a wink, causing him to swoon.

"Bleh! Thanks for the treasure, Mugiwara! Garchu!"

Sticking your tongue out at the defeated crew, you dive into the river and swim toward the estuary leading to the sea, never to return with your treasure safe and secure behind you.