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yumeboshi · 11 months ago

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𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #03. CORPSE BRIDE

𐙚 topic。．when you turn down yandere hsr men’s proposals.

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。general yandere themes, suggestive content, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and boothill. sunday and aven are regular additions to my posts lol, wrote boothills less intense bc he’s too silly to imagine

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ ‘convinces’ you

。he will actually try to coax you into it. he doesn’t want to just force things onto you, that isn’t really what he wants 。“ill make you the happiest pretty bride, doll, just believe in me, hm?” 。continues to sweet talk you, telling you what he can do- buy you pretty dresses, give you anything you want, and he lists luxury after luxury. 。and he follows through his promises. even if you are being really disobedient, he’d still buy you more luxury than you could ever ask for. you will start questioning if you really don’t want this marriage- which is exactly what he wants you to do, to make you doubt yourself. 。his list goes on and on- a vip ticket to the Reverie, first row tickets to robin’s concerts, only the finest things that only his class of people could ever get their hands on. 。but in that list, he conveniently puts out ‘freedom.’ 。if you disagree, he’d pout, asking you why- and when you tell him you want to be free from him, he’d laugh, calling you a silly girl. 。“i already gave you a choice when we met. it was your choice to pick a card from an unknown pile.” 。he’d have the wedding commence in some really luxurious property of the ipc, and he will, invite your family over- he’s merciful. but is it mercy when you know you won’t see them ever again? 。“it would be a shame if they don’t see the happiest moment of your life.”

STANDING there with the most beautiful dress you could humanly ask for, your expression is nothing but a shell as Aventurine smiles at you through those shades. Your eyes are everywhere but on his eyes, when you stare at them, you feel like you’re losing yourself.

you are glad your gown came with a veil over your head, nobody can see your dead eyes, except him.

As the officiant goes on with the questions, you grip your bouquet a little harder to the point you feel their stems crumple, just like your shriveling heart.

You snap out of it after hearing silence- you see his expecting eyes on you and you nod blankly. “I do.”

And your husband smiles even wider, and he steps closer and slowly, while staring at you with uncomfortable adoration through those tantalizing purple eyes, he kisses you. You are expecting a tender kiss in a ceremony; but his gloved hand sneaks onto the back of your head, pulling you in hastily.

“I love you so fucking much, princess—” he breathes into you, brushing aside the saliva that trickles down your chin after his intrusion. “It took quite a while, but you’re finally all mine.” He pulls up your hand that has your forced vow on it, he chuckles and softly kisses your fingers.

“‘m gonna make you so happy, so ecstatic, that you’re gonna thank me for it, love. you will thank me that I restrained you from everything else.” he whispers, and the people clap, cheering; your family too, who smiles, knowing nothing that it would be your last reunion.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ breaks you

。he just takes it on another level (and does not find your struggles entertaining unlike the former) 。he will be, really heartbroken at first. the head of the oak family asking you to be his lifelong sweetheart is almost like him giving you his life. you are his entire world- and the world has rejected him. 。“…I see. was I not good enough for you, angel?” 。although his emotions will be very hard to control, he’s very used to commencing plans. he’d tell you that he could ‘talk this out’ with you. unfortunately, it’s not a choice, but rather, an order. 。sunday is a ‘the end justifies the means’ kind of person. he will do any means to make you eventually accept your fate. that will include imprisoning you in some faraway place and leaving you abandoned for so long, you will be broken, wishing for any interaction. food is only given to you through a remote device, with no human interaction. 。sunday itches to be with you- he is compassionate for you, his heart will ache to see you sob into an endless cacophony. a part of him will be tempted to go to you and be with you physically, not watching you from a screen. 。he will repeat it- he will visit once a blue moon, comforting you, asking you if you changed your mind. when you ask him when he’d release you, his expression will harden. 。“it seems you haven’t learned anything, sweetheart.” 。if you are still stubborn, he will be a little impatient. he will speed up the process by adding new things in- maybe making you dream of a lovely, free life and when you wake up, you’re just alone. he will not resort to anything violent, he cares too much about you to hurt you. although, ‘hurt’ in his dictionary doesn’t apply to mentally hurting you. 。you will sob and show your most dramatic, fragile sides to a descent of madness, thinking you are truly alone until sunday comes to visit. you are wrong, though- sunday has always been with you, just not physically. 。he has always been watching you cry into the void through a screen. always.

MAYBE you have finally lost your mind, because when Sunday comes to visit you and your dull prison, you collapse to your knees and immediately plead him.

“Please,” you sob, clutching his legs desperately- he doesn’t crouch, but looks down- almost like a god addressing its follower. Sunday is no god for you, but you beg like he is.

“Please what?” He looks at you, fingers brushing over your hands, tilting his head just the slightest. His golden eyes glitter in the dim light. He is waiting for only one answer, there is only one correct answer to his question.

But you do not give him the right one. “Please just let me go,” you break down. Your heart is throbbing from all the crying, vision blurry and your head is light with no energy to talk anymore.

His gentle, serene smile immediately warps into that of a cold one. “Try again?” His fingers grip your hands hard, warning you that his patience is running thin.

When you remain silent except for your sobs, he crouches down to stare at you on eye-level, boring holes into your fearful expression. Unlike his deadly gaze, his words are soft and flow out quickly like a river- albeit with a sigh of exasperation. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop this just because you beg.” His hand pushes yours against the floor to knock you down, figure towering over you as he leans in to whisper- “—although, they’re very pleasant to listen to.”

“Honestly, I don’t get why you are struggling right now. It’s so easier to accept your eventual fate. Unless, you do like to seek pain.”

His other hand goes over your stomach, then slides tantalizingly slow up your body- you shiver and tremble at each touch that is too foreign to you. Cold fingers cage your neck and you choke on your breath.

“I’m not planning on hurting you, angel.” His voice is still gentle, but his eyes are telling another story, they seem keen to hurt you again and again. “But I did say I’ll resort to other… methods. Since none of them seem to work, I suppose the only solution would be caging you with a baby.” When your eyes widen, he laughs dryly. “The look on your face tells me that you didn’t expect it. But you will be my loving wife, dear. You will not be able to run or reject me, not when your own child is at stake. It makes only more sense to… make you bear children. My children.”

As he watches you struggle under him, trying to breathe, he feels like he has entered ascension. Soon, one of your pretty fingers will have his ring, and very very soon, he will have his first child- the very thought of him makes him lose his mind. He so wishes to make you his, claim you inside, watch your pretty pussy gush out his cum while he’s pressing deep into your womb- but he also wishes to see a mini version of him, or you. He finds it too adorable to withstand. He will vow that his children will grow up pure and innocent.

“We will be the happiest family in the world,” he purrs. “And I’ll make sure of it.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིOOTHILL ⇢ will try to prove himself

。maybe a little similar to aven. but while the latter will materialistically give you things and spoil you around to convince you, boothill will more likely show himself off instead. 。“i can fudgin’ shoot an ipc lackey in the head from miles away, sugar- ya can’t see that ‘n any other guy.” 。he’ll try to show you his capability to protect you- which will likely end up in multiple people dying but as a galaxy ranger, he has morals, so he will probably use the ipc as his shooting dummies 。overall he’s sweet even if you reject his proposal- he will likely be furious, just not at you. 。oh lord but during the day you rejected him, be prepared for multiple news flashes of dead people across the street. the amount of emotion will be too much for his consciousness to restrain 。when you confront him, he’d apologize, albeit a little too nonchalant. 。“‘m sorry sweetie, got a lil outta hand last night.” 。per your wish, he won’t kill anyone who’s unrelated and innocent- but he’d still go on a killing spree in the ipc headquarters to the point you are blacklisted on their list because he would shout your name and rant why you didn’t accept him while he shoots his gun all around the place.

“BOOTHILL, what the hell are you doing?” You frown when he returns- even after rejecting his proposal, he drifts around you like a lost stray dog. And he is always covered in blood, looking furious- but when you talk, his expression simply melts away like butter to a grin that shows his sharp teeth.

“What do ya mean what I’m doin’? Makin’ sure nobody hurts you.” He snickers. He smells like metal, like he always does, but this time it’s overpowering, which lets you know what he’s been doing.

“I don’t need protection, Boothill. You can just leave me alone.”

You’re beyond annoyed at his clinginess. No matter how many times you reject him, he’d always come back, showing something new off to you, and half the time it wasn’t anything pleasant, but rather his list of crimes.

“Aww, don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He chuckles and flashes a grin and his other metal hand spontaneously pulls you into his embrace— you jump. When did his hand get there? “All I wanna do is to make sure my future wife is safe and sound. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“I told you, I’m not going to accept-“

“Ah ah! Wait and see, you will be, I promise. But don’t drag the chase a lil too long. Even I get impatient.” Something cold pressed against your forehead and you realize it’s his gun. When your expression turns aghast with fear, he barks an amused laugh.

“You scared of this? Nah, I’d never hurt ya. Won’t wanna turn your body into metal like mine.” Although he says this with a dark smirk, he doesn’t remove the gun. “The sooner you agree to it, the merciful I become. Ya don’t wanna see innocent guys die because of your stupidity, hm?”

#𐙚．。articles #honkai star rail x reader #Honkai star rail smut #yandere sunday #honkai star rail yandere #sunday x reader #sunday smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #yandere aventurine #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #hsr smut #yandere hsr #hsr x reader

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 8 months ago

Note

I really loved your scenario of The Justice League AND The Ill reader,Lmao, poor reader they only need a rest.

Anyway, ever since I read the first part I was thinking about the kids, you know, the League Sidekicks, obviously The Reader knows them, due to work (I can really imagine Batman introducing His kids to the Reader to force a bond , And obviously The rest of The League does the same) So I had the headcanon that the reader really likes the children, they talk to them after missions, sometimes they buy them some gifts for their birthdays, they listen to them when they complain about their father figures (Therapist Reader), etc. But at the same time I can imagine The Reader being totally uncomfortable with his parents, so I can't help but think of a scenario in which The Reader is talking to the League kids in a good mood, but the League members walk in. to the room (They obviously saw the Happy Reader, so they want to gain some advantage) And The Reader just turns off, goes into business mode and is curt as always with the league, and when he finishes talking to the league, he goes back to talking to the children and their mood is happy again. Man I would love to see the league's reaction to the obvious reader favoritism

PD:I really love your work, you are amazing

Pd2:If The kids are yandere, ITS UP to you

A Week in Life: Take Your Kid to Work Day

Synopsis: A week in your life where you get a lot of new little friends, even if you know something’s sketchy about it.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Yanderes! Robin (Dick), Superboy (Konner), Miss Martian, Kid Flash (Wally) and Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm)

Tw: A single implication about Hal’s past dub/non con incidente (blink and you miss it); Implied emotional manipulation, I guess? Justice League using kids as a manipulation tactic; A little angst, I think we all hate how Superman treated Conner, so I added that, so technically not a healthy relationship between them here, could be interpreted as Superman manipulating him or Superboy trying too hard to make his bio-dad like him; The kid’s ages are definitely not accurate canon wise, but what is canon anyway? I mixed their personalities and origins from Young Justice (along with their age gap) and for Superboy it was mainly the animated movie Reign of the Supermen; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 3,3k

Requested? More than once.

Extra notes: Dick is 10, Kaldur'ahm, Conner, Megan and Wally are 13. I wish I knew more about the Wonder Girls to write about one of them, I felt bad for not adding them, but I would’ve felt worse writing for a character I have no idea how to write.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— I wasn't aware that there was a Take Your Kid to Work Day on schedule... — You said in a surprised, maybe taken aback, tone, if not a little strangled and sarcastic, even if a little happy. You rubbed your forehead, you knew your hunch was right…

Monday…

You’ve heard the rumors Gotham media was spreading for months now, you even asked Batman if you should prepare the marketing team in case of an emergency, he denied everything.

So why was it that now you were staring at a 10 year old dressed as a traffic light?

— Miss/Mister/Mx (Y/N)... I’m hungry… — Worst of all? The kid was cute.

You smile in a friendly manner.

— Okay, okay. Just give me a second, buddy, I need to talk to your… Dad…?! — You just now realized you didn't know their actual relationship. Batman only told you his name was Robin, that he was his partner, and that he was in the watchtower to observe. You didn't know superheroes accepted 10 year old interns, but whatever. The kid just stared blankly at you, not giving an actual answer to if you got your assumption right.

— Can I go with you? — Robin fiddled with his fingers. So cute. You nodded with a small smile. The kid jumped off his too big chair and ran towards you, surprising you by taking your hand. He had small hands. So cute.

You walked slowly, to accommodate to his height, in the direction of the door to the briefing room, where Batman was talking to John Stewart. This other Green Lantern was a breath of fresh air. The other one (the one who shouldn't be named) was away, working on another district of the universe since that whole… Less-than-consensual situation. You were happy and surprised when the League didn't just brush it off, and even compensated you for it, alongside making him go away. He either agreed to that, or caused the 3rd World War against the Justice League. It was a temporary predicament, but happier nonetheless, since John wasn't obsessed with you, unlike the rest of them, and easy to work with.

You cleared your throat so they would turn to you.

— Does Robin have any restrictions? He said he's hungry so I'm gonna take him to the kitchen. — You said politely. Batman shook his head.

— Just don't give him sugar. He needs to sleep before patrol tonight. — You raised your eyebrows in surprise and nodded your head. Batman looked at the boy. — Behave, chum. — You blinked, Robin nodded solemnly.

As you walked in the direction of the kitchen, the kid showed to be very happy and talkative. You were surprised, considering who his dad was, but it warmed your heart. At least it seemed he wasn't mistreated.

At some point, he let your hand go and started cartwheeling and doing acrobatics all the way there to show off his abilities to you. You gasped and clapped, praising his talent along with other workers from the crew who were passing the hall. You were slightly worried that he would fall and get hurt, but the kid was really confident in what he was doing (but they always are, until they fall).

When you got there, you were impressed that he wasn't even the slightest out of breath.

— Do you have games on your phone? — He asked, sitting down on a table while you rummaged the fridge for some sandwiches or any healthy snack, since you didn't know how his home diet was, but guessing by his build, which was a lot more athletic than kids his age are, he was probably pretty healthy. Son of the Bat.

— Hmm, I have Dress to Impress, Pou and Candy Crush.

— What is Pou? — Your heart panged and you sighed, feeling old.

— When were you born? 2010? — You walked towards him and settled a plate with a sandwich in front of him, before pouring a cup of juice.

— 2014. — Your mouth dropped, speechless. — Wait, so not even Stardew Valley? — You cleared your throat and shook your head, sitting beside him, while he started eating.

— Wait, can I even let you play? Does Batman let you have screen time? — He nodded.

— I have a phone. I just couldn't bring it with me today… He said he would show me around the tower, but he got busy with work… — He deflated a little at the end of the sentence, your heart broke. — Anyway… He told me I could distract myself. I just need your permission. — You bite your lip.

— Okay. How about we go to the recreational room and you can play some videogames while I work from the computer. — Robin nodded eagerly.

— Damn, you can't even play with me? Working sucks. That must be why adults are so boring. — You took a napkin and cleaned some food from his cheek.

— It's not that bad… You can do whatever you want. — He perked up.

— I guess so… — He looked you up and down. You prepared yourself for one of those moments where kids are so blunt that they don't know they could offend someone. — But you're not boring, (Y/N), you're cool. Must be why daddy likes you so much. And he doesn't like no one.

Tuesday…

Wow, what a weird coincidence. Just yesterday Batman brought his kid, and now Martian Manhunter brought his niece.

Miss Martian looked older than Robin, but again, she was a martian, her appearance was shifted to whatever she wanted to look like. All you knew was that she was young and new on Earth.

Right now, she looked very human. She had freckles and auburn hair. The only thing that made her stand out was the green of her skin.

When she presented herself to you, you got startled by her voice in your head, but you and Martian Manhunter softly explained to her that on Earth people didn't communicate through their minds, and it was kinda like an invasion of privacy. Kinda funny hearing him say that, but whatever.

Like Batman the day prior, Martian trusted the girl in your hands. So many coincidences, right?!

— So, honey, how old are you?

— Oh, on my home planet I should be about 39. But converting to Earth years, I’m 13. — She said with a shy but friendly smile, you smiled back.

— You’re pretty young then. How are you settling on Earth? Planning to go to school maybe? — She nodded.

— I just started the school year… I wasn't too sure about that, but my uncle said it would be good to learn human behaviors. — You nodded.

— American school is nice, I recommend you should take part in clubs. And don't feel pressured to make a billion friends. It's better to have one good friend, instead of 10 people you know but can't rely on. — She nodded, biting her lip.

— I already know some of the other sidekicks, I just don't have any civilian friends… I was thinking about joining the cheerleading team. — You gasped, excited.

— Oh, that's really good! I always wanted to join, but was never the sporty type. You’re sweet, I think that already gives you some points. — Her green cheeks got darker.

— You think so?! — Her voice got louder with excitement.

— Of course! Now let me give you some tips about the jocks, honey…

Wednesday…

Today, Flash brought Kid Flash. You haven't met him until now. The sequence of days the older heroes brought in their sidekicks was starting to look weird… But not that weird. Batman said he would give Robin a tour but became unavailable. Manhunter wanted Miss Martian to meet civilian people and have a good role model — you don't know why he decided that that role model should be you, but it made sense, so… —. Flash Said they would spend the day using the lab to experiment some more on Kid Flash’s still recently acquired powers. So. Coincidences, right?

The boy was 13 too, he had messy red hair and green eyes. Flash didn't specify their relationship, but their personalities definitely matched a little. Both a little hyperiperactive and smiley. Although that could be more of a speedster thing, especially the first part.

Like promised, they spent half that day on the lab, occasionally calling you for snack breaks. However, at some point, Flash gave an excuse and left you with the kid.

Huh.

— Sooo, what do you do around here? — Kid Flash asked, spinning around in a chair he found somewhere and rolled to the middle of your office in the blink of an eye. You half-smiled. It was nice not being crowded by those weirdos and being around fresh and youthful people, but it was starting to feel weird.

— I plan schedule appointments, organize team meetings, prepare agendas and itineraries, book meals and travel arrangements, handle record keeping and documentation, and make sure a project stays on budget. — The ginger blinked and stopped spinning.

— Uhh, you went to college for that? — You blinked.

— I did, why? — He chuckled slightly.

— Nothing, it's cool, sounds boring, though. — You nodded.

— What do you want to work with? — He looked to the side, thoughtful for a moment.

— I think I want to be a scientist.

— Oh really?

— Yeah, I like physics, mechanics and a little bit of chemistry. — You smirked.

— Chemistry? Sounds boring. — Kidflash froze for a second, wide-eyed, then relaxed and started laughing loudly. His chuckling prompted you to chuckle alongside him.

He used his feet to push the chair around your table and stopped at your side.

— Hey, can I see how much people get paid here? If I'm gonna be a member of the League one day, might as well optimize time and just work here. — You slapped his hands away when he reached for your computer, he pouted.

— Wouldn't that make it difficult to keep your secret identity hidden?! — Kid Flash stretched his arm, then draped it across your shoulders, you lifted an eyebrow.

— Babe. I'm a superhero. I could change clothes really fast right now and you wouldn't even notice. — You scoffed and lightly pushed him and his chair away.

— A phone booth would be more appropriate for that.

— What's a phone booth?

Thursday…

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

You didn't even know they were close! Sure, Superboy is Superman and Lex Luthor’s clone, the whole world knew that, and that Superboy took to Superman's side. But they were never seen together, unlike Flash and Kid Flash, or Batman and Robin, for example.

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

The silence was awkward for a few seconds. You thought back to the personality he showed when he was first announced by LexCorp, when Superman was considered dead. He was all over the media (Lex’s marketing team was good) with his charisma and flirty personality. Although he kept the leather jacket, his quietness surprised you.

You cleared your throat.

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

You cleared your throat.

— So… Are you hungry? Wanna play videogames? — You grimaced slightly. He looked at you again, a little hesitant.

— Uh… I think so? — He blinked. — You guys have videogames here?! — He exclaimed, surprised. You chuckled.

— Oh yeah, for such a serious and stern guy, Batman really invested in the work environment. — You chuckled together, walking towards the recreational area.

You were curious about the earlier weird vibe, but didn't want to prod.

At first, you just let the boy play by himself, just sitting beside him and working while talking, that was until he paused the game between missions and stretched, then looked at you.

— Are you guys involved? — You looked at him with your eyebrows raised.

— You guys…? — He pursed his lips.

— You and Superman. — You grimaced slightly.

— Oh no, he's my boss, and not my type at all. — He nodded, looking pensive.

— He likes you. — You kept a blank expression, waiting for him to continue. — I like you too, so I can imagine why he likes you. — You stared at him, exasperated. He widened his eyes. — Not like that! — He raised his hands to deny. — It's just- I feel comfortable with you. I felt comfortable with some of his friends before, I didn't even know why, but I think it's because half of me is from him. Like I have some things from Lex since I was… Born… — He looked to the ground for a second, pouting lightly. — That's why Superman doesn't like me. — You widened your eyes.

— I'm sure he likes you! — Superboy looked at you like he didn't believe you.

— No, it's okay… He's polite, I guess. And took me in as his family, just not… As his son… More like a brother, or… A cousin… I mean, I can understand, I'm basically a hate baby, created by his biggest enemy to outdo and destroy him�� — You shook your head.

You didn't know what to say, since you didn't know how their dynamic was like.

— H-He brought you here to spend time with you, didn't he? He just had an emergency to take care of… — He looked to the ground and then at you again. He didn't have the heart to tell you that's the first time they ever “hung out”, and that his genius brain clocked hours ago that Superman's plan was to create a connection between you both by orchestrating a connection with you and him. He also didn't want to bad mouth Clark. A part of him always would have hope that Superman would want to be closer to him one day.

Superboy looked at the clock and then at you.

— Don't you have a break? I can hear your stomach, I'm hungry too.

Friday…

This madness has to stop now.

— Nice to meet you, Aqualad. — You nodded at the boy with a small smile. You were a little mesmerized by his exotic appearance. He had brown skin, blonde hair in braids (where are his roots?) and blue eyes. His arms were also covered in tattoos that you knew had something to do with his abilities.

— I was showing him around the Watchtower, but now I have a meeting with Wonder Woman, why don't you two hang out for a while? — Aquaman, always the most obnoxious one. Their intentions were 100% clear now.

Aquaman didn't let you say anything else and left the room with said hero. You heard her murmur something about having to find her own apprentice to bring to the watchtower as soon as possible.

You looked at the boy, not knowing what to say.

— Have you ever been to Atlantis? — He surprised you by speaking first, his tone was gentle, if not a little monotonous, but he looked at you with interest.

— Uhhh, no? I’m not that good of a swimmer and I can't breathe underwater. — Aqualad smirked lightly.

— You wouldn't need to worry about breathing, there are multiple ways for humans to do that, from magic to technology. As for swimming… I'm sure we can find some sort of solution for that, also. And I doubt my king would be opposed to the idea of teaching you. — You nodded slowly. So much for subtly.

— … My vitamin D is low enough as it is, I’d rather stay on land, no offense. — The atlantean opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. — Aqualad! Do you like the food here? I've always been curious about your culture’s cuisine…

You kept talking for hours, eventually, Aqualad and you ended up in the training room, he offered to show you a little of his control over water bodies, and you, still a little fascinated over the convivence with superheroes, and this being the second time you met someone from Atlantis, accepted eagerly.

— This is just like H2O… — Kauldur’ahm blinked.

— It is water… — The boy confirmed, hesitantly. You laughed.

— No, no, not water. It's a TV show, it's about mermaids. I guess it isn't exactly accurate, but they can control water, just like you! — He nodded, slowly, contemplating. You looked at your watch, noticing your lunch time was due. You looked at him, shyly. — If you're up for it, we could watch it now… — That seemed to make him perk up a little and he nodded quickly.

— I would like to.

Monday…

There they were, in the meeting room, all seated around the big roundtable, almost double the number of people who usually sit there.

Now, the food order they made, made sense.

You pushed the food cart forward, one for Flash. You came back and pushed another one, this one for Kid Flash, you ruffled his hair. Then, you walked back and pushed the 3rd food cart around the table, delivering each meal for each hero.

— Steak for Green Lantern. One black coffee for Batman. One meat sandwich and chocolate milk for Robin. — You squeezed his cheek. He smiled brightly at you. — Toast for Martian Manhunter and a slice of strawberry cake for Missy Miss Martian. — As you put the plate in front of her, you whispered that you wanted to know how the cheerleading team was going. She nodded happily. — A burger with fries for Aquaman, a smoothie and salad for Aqualad. Oh, did you change your hair? I like it! — You smiled brightly at the boy and his cheeks burned, he nodded. — Ice cream for Wonder Woman. Another burger and fries for Superman and another for Superboy. I see you followed my advice, your style really matches with those piercings. Tell me how you did it later. — You laughed carelessly and went to the door. — Need me for something more? — Your bosses shook their heads, stunned. You left and closed the door.

— Can't believe you guys actually did it… — John shook his head, disappointed at his teammates.

— I knew it would work. — Batman said, sipping from his drink.

— That's why we stole your idea when we knew about it. — Aquaman chuckled.

— I really need to find a sidekick. — Diana huffed.

Batman turned to Robin.

— You did a good job, chum. — Dick chuckled.

— Yeah, I even asked for a sandwich without the crust. Now (Y/N) think I'm the cutest here. — He smirked smugly. Wally scoffed.

— Yeah, right. She totally doesn't think you're an annoying kid. — The duo stared at each other. — I, for example, made them laugh. — The redhead puffed his chest proudly.

— Are you sure it wasn’t a pity laugh?! — Superboy snorted at Robin’s retort.

— Although Robin might be physically more adorable, and Kid Flash, in his words, made them laugh. (Y/N) and I started a TV show together, my king. — Aquaman nodded at his apprentice’s words.

— You did a good job.

— But (Y/N) actually said they wanted to talk to me later! That usually oficializes human’s friendships! — Megan said, softly.

— They said the same to me, the other day. That I could talk to them whenever I wanted… — Superman looked at Superboy, surprised. He felt awkward praising him, so he just nodded his head and looked away. Superboy pouted slightly.

— Because you told them your sob story, now they think you're a loser. — Conner glared at Dick. — Their physical language showed that they loved me, B! I honestly deserve an Oscar after that performance! They're gonna be ours before you suckers know it!

As a screaming match raised inside the room, the adult heroes looked at each other, lost for words, not only had the kids gotten you roped a bazillion times faster then they could ever dream, but also you were so amazing that they were enamored with you too.

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant

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phoenixkaptain · 2 years ago

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I really want to explore Tim “rich kid” Drake spending time with his friends and them just slowly realizing that Robin is even weirder than they thought.

Like, Arrowette complains about some press event or something that her mom wants her to go to and Robin just starts listing off advice and unspoken rules and tells her to absolutely avoid the shrimp cocktails unless she wants an early out, in which case the correct amount to eat is one and a half shrimp with only a bit of cocktail sauce, which will be enough to change her complexion and convince people she doesn’t feel well and allow her to escape to the restroom, then she just needs to slip out one of the windows-

Or Wonder Girl commenting on, like, a science fair project or something and he just goes “Science fairs are the worst. Everyone wants to buy your services to make them something, not understanding that you’re richer than they are and that an insult to you could lead to you buying their parents’ companies if they don’t shut up. They’re lucky I have an even temper…” WG: “…wat.”

Superboy is like “man, Superman’s trying to convince me to clean my room. What should I do?” and Tim just stares blankly at him because nobody has ever told him to clean his room before and he’s never cleaned his room before and he had no idea Clark was so cruel and-

Impulse: “Hey, Rob, pass me a can opener.”

Robin, staring into the drawer, fifteen can openers right in front of his eyes: “We don’t have one.”

I just want Tim to inexplicably not know some things because he’s never had to know them. I want him to explicably know things because he had to know them. I want the things he does know and the things he doesn’t to be totally backwards to everyone, who are all wondering why Robin knows how to hotwire a car but does not know how to work a vacuum cleaner.

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nightingale-prompts · 1 month ago

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Davey meets Superman-Davey the Revenant Au-DCxDP

Who is Davey

(The people scream for more Davey! I need a better name for this AU)

Clark hadn't paid a visit to Bruce and the boy in a while. They had been suspiciously quiet lately. More the usual quiet at least. Never a good sign.

Well color him surprised when he discovered that a new little Robin had arrived.

He was a little guy too. Smaller than the rest were.

He was laying on a lounging pillow with an iPad playing baby sensory videos.

"Hey, Sup. Are you here for Batman?" Richard asked.

"Oh, yeah but I wanted to see you and others. I only really catch glimpses of Duke when I fly over. But you didn't tell me anything so I have to check in. You have a new brother?"

"Yep, another one. This is Davey. Look Davey it's Superman. Do you know who Superman is?" He asked.

Davey looked up briefly. His eyes blinked vacantly at Clark before going back to his video.

"That's...weird. I guess you are too bright for him." Dick said taking note.

Dick guessed it was because Davey as a revenant doesn't take note of people who aren't surrounded by death. Sure, Superman had died before but he isn't covered in Gotham's aura of death.

Plus Superman never killed anyone and that attracts Davey like a moth to a flame.

"I guess. Hey Davey. It's nice to met you. I can't wait to get to know you. What are you watching?" Clark tried to get closer but Davey simply rolled away with his iPad in hand.

"Davey?!" Dick exclaimed in confusion.

Yeah, that's really weird for Davey. He loved people, in his own way.

"Alright, no more Ipad. You're being rude."Dick said sternly taking the device away.

Davey let out a whine and sat up.

"Sorry, I'll tell Bruce know you want to talk. He probably already knows but I'll remind him. Cam you just watch Davey for a second while I do that." Dick tucked the tablet under his arm as he let. "Oh, and don't let him out of your sight."

Clark didn't know what to say. Now that Davey wasn't staring at his tablet his eyes were locked on Clark. His eyes were unsettling, unblinking. He didn't say anything and just studied Superman like he didn't understand what he was seeing.

Clark reflexively looked away but when he looked back the kid was gone. Clark panicked as he searched for the kid.

Finally, he found him standing on the railing of the stairs at the mansion foyer.

"Davey, it's not safe up there!" Clark said worried.

Davey looked at him blankly then smiled widely.

"Davey! Get down from there!" Richard yelled at the boy as he exited the basement.

This was not the first time then.

Davey waved at Richard as he threw himself off the second floor.

The part of Clark's brain in charge of reaction response must have turned of when he saw how confidently Davey jump or his own experience with Jon might have left him too used to flying chidren, or it was the lack of fear in Dick's voice.

But Davey fell and broke his neck on impact.

Clark let out a distressed sceam as he fly to check on the boy. Dick grumbled lowly.

Blood leaked out of Davey's nose and ears as he layed dead in Superman's arms.

"Call 912! No, I'll fly him to the hospital! WAIT NO HIS NECK!" Clark scrambled to fix this.

How did he let this happen? Why did he do this? He should have been able to save him. He could have prevented this easily!

But Richard put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. He just playing with you." He said exhaustedly. "Come on Davey. Get up and stop trying to scare him."

With a low sickening click Davey stretched his body and snapped everything back into place. This his eyes opened more lively than ever.

"Hehehe!" Davey giggled gleefully. He reached up and hugged Clark around the neck.

Richard shook his head.

"I knew he was acting weird. He was just bored." Dick said urging Davey to come to him. "Bruce wants to talk."

Clark was more than puzzled. This whole situation was...crazy.

#dc x dp #davey phantom #davey au #davey the revenant #another danny clone #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp x dc prompt #dick grayson #clark kent

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novelistwriter · 4 months ago

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Paranoia eats the Phantom

DP x DC Prompt

I've always read stories where Danny and the Bats end up together in many ways, but one story caught my eye, 'A Heart Worth Breaking', one chapter in that work on a03 has Danny snapping at the Bats for looking into him when he hasn't done the same, and it inspired me to make a prompt similar to that chapter

Danny escaped the horrors of both the GIW and his parents. They cut him open, seen what makes him tick. They run tests on the 'samples' they collect from him. They put him in a room and see what is best to work on him to hurt him. They put him in different Ghost Containment devices that are modified to inflict harm on him. They... they killed those he 'manipulated' (Jazz, Sam and Tucker) in front of him... just to see if he would reveal his 'true colors'.

He escaped to Gotham when the Justice League began a raid on the GIW base he was being held in. None of the heroes had shown interest in the calls coming from Amity, so why now? He wouldn't find that answer, as he just wants to live. He wants to be a person and not a 'thing' to be studied or a hero. Gotham has enough ambient ectoplasm for him to live in, so he had Technus Forge him some identification papers on the digital plane to be "Daniel Jasper Folson".

He did his best to avoid the radar of the Bats and Birds, but he couldn't ignore his obsession. He went out at night as Phantom to try and discreetly help those in need. He failed at being discreet and was discovered by the Bats and Birds.

He wasn't expecting to be requested to help them during some big hits on Trafficking Rings or gathering Intel on the big name rogues that are obviously hiding something behind the scenes. Sure, he only has Nightwing, Red Hood, and occasionally Signal to hang out with, but he's slowly coming to trust the Bats and Birds of Gotham.

He should've known that it was too good to be true. During a quiet night, where he was hanging out with Wing and Hood on a roof, eating Batburgers together, he overheard Oracle and Red Robin tell one of the two with Danny about their progress on finding more information on him or trying to get through the GIW logs kn him.

This causes him to snap on Wing and Hood, saying that they didn't care for him as another being, treating him as a thing to be studied and contained. He stops himself from revealing too much and runs away. He runs away to be with the lesbian couple that both remind him of his sister and best friend in some ways and who have helped him on occasion when he ran into them on the streets, trying to build up enough money to get a home for himself.

He is at their front door, waiting for one of them to open it after he knocked on it, tears still streaming down his face and looking heartbroken. They do let him in and do their best to comfort him. He is just staring blankly at nothing in front of him as the couple trues to get him to talk to them. He vaguely hears Harley tell Pamela something about flowers, someone called B-man, and about himself.

Before he registers Pamela coming into the room with the flowers, he sees one of the Bats or Birds land by the window. It's only after the Bat or Bird almost knocks on the window to be let in when he registered the flowers that Pamela has offered to Danny. Blood Blossoms. His body hurts, and with the bouquet of Blood Blossoms so close to him, his body begins to melt in a grotesque way into a puddle of Ectoplasm, and then thay puddle evaporated into nothing.

But that wasn't Danny. That was a duplicate he sent to Pamela and Harley. He couldn't fully trust them, as they were known to be, on occasion, working with the Bats and Birds, but he wanted to be with people he knew he could trust. And now he thinks that trust is broken, as he connected the dots, seeing one of the Vigilantes go to them, figuring out that B-Man is Batman, and the Blood Blossoms that Pamela had.

Maybe it's time for him to use his Ghost King title to the fullest. He can't trust the heroes of the world because of that trust had been betrayed by the Bats and Birds of Gotham, and he's going to make an announcement to the world.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom #dcu #batman #dc x dp crossover #dp crossover #dp x dc prompt

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karikarasuno · 1 month ago

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part three | part four | part five

"no fucking way," nami nearly spits out her margarita. "that did not happen."

robin is laughing behind her hand. at least she's trying to be polite.

"not you sneaking out the back." you glare at franky, blinking blankly.

"sorry, i've taken his social media away," robin apologizes, wacking franky on the arm. he just shrugs and takes another swig of his beer.

"she'll never take tiktok away from me," he says, clearly way tipsier than any of you realized.

you have to ignore him for now, deciding on tackling franky's chronic online issue at a later date. because right now it's been a solid three days since you and law have spoken about what transpired between the two of you.

and it isn't for lack of trying this time. you just haven’t been able to catch each other between work and sleep. and stupidly, you never asked for his number. so it’s not like you can even text him.

“that’s just unlucky,” nami takes another sip of her drink. “i mean you finally get some after that disaster of a break up and you go and get interrupted by his entire family.”

“i know!” you groan, sinking further down into the booth. your hand plays with the condensation on the glass of your own margarita in anguish. you were so close to actually touching his dick. again.

“well, was it good at least?” robin chuckles, amused.

you roll your eyes. “of course it was good. i’ve had like three wet dreams about it since.”

franky whistles. “i do not miss those days. the mess, the hassle, the shame…”

“who invited him?” nami complains.

“he just kinda follows me around like a lost puppy,” robin smiles, leaning over and pinching franky’s cheek. which blushes profusely.

nami gags when she looks over at you. “i’ll never get it,” she whispers, forcing a giggle from you which you hide behind the lip of your drink.

you finish your margarita, pleasantly buzzed and stuffed with chips and salsa. it takes another twenty minutes for you all to say goodbye in the parking lot before you’re heading home for the evening. thinking of law the entire way.

which is where you make your mistake. because you’re a few blocks from home. driving slow in the residential, but you don’t see the wood panel in the middle of the road until it’s too late. until you hit it and hear a devastating pop from your front tire.

“oh, fuck me,” you hit your steering wheel, agitated. just your luck. you step out of your car rounding the hood to stare at the mess that is your tire. it’s practically shredded and you’re so close to home too.

you grab your phone looking to see if you had the stupid tow service included in your insurance since you don’t know how to change a tire.

“what did you do?” law’s voice startles you. you had seen the headlights coming your way but you didn’t expect it to be him.

“what did i do?” you whine, just shy of stomping your foot. “i didn’t do anything. i was driving home and a piece of wood with a nail in it murdered my tire.”

“do you have a spare in the trunk?” law sounds nasally, stuffed.

“i don’t know,” you say hopelessly, a true damsel.

law shakes his head and parks in front of you. when he gets out you note that he’s still in his scrubs. but that’s insane because he left for work before you did this morning. and it’s damn near 10pm now.

“are you just getting home?”

“long day,” law dismisses, really sounding congested. he leans into your open driver side door and pops the trunk. “i have a jack in my car, so it won’t take me long to replace. but you can’t drive on a spare for long so make sure you get a new tire soon.”

he sounds absolutely horrible.

“law, are you sick?” you can’t help the concern that seeps into your voice. this is just weird. and he’s acting so normal.

“i’m fine.” he moves the stupid shit you have in your trunk around and lifts the felt cover. so you do have a spare.

you stare in shock as he walks back to his car to grab the jack. and then walks back over to you to start changing your tire. “turn your flash on for me.”

you listen without thinking, only realizing after a minute or so that he shouldn’t be doing this.

“wait, you shouldn’t exert yourself,” you interrupt him. “i can just call a guy.”

“i’m already almost done,” he says, placing the tire iron over a lug nut and twisting. and you know for a fact that isn’t easy with the way he strains.

he stifles a cough and your eyes narrow.

“you’re sick,” you accuse, the hand that isn’t holding your phone props on your hip.

“it’s just a little cold. i’ll be fine after i get some sleep.” he pulls your tire off and starts fitting the spare.

“you shouldn’t be changing my tire when you feel shitty,” you argue again. feeling bad.

“too late,” he grumbles, twisting the final lug nut.

“law,” you sigh, hand slapping your thigh as he removes his jack and grabs your obliterated tire.

“i’m fine,” he stops in front of you and even without the flash you can see the exhaustion in his body and the lethargy in his face. and he genuinely looks ill.

your hand reaches up to touch his forehead, back of your hand brushing his skin. and it’s clammy. and feverish.

“you’re not fine,” you assert, dropping your hand. he nudges you out of the way with his leg forcing you to take a small step away from him.

“if you’re so concerned, you can follow me home,” he calls over his shoulder.

“ha ha,” you mock sarcastically, watching him throw both your tire and his jack in the trunk of his car.

"thank you," you say, grateful for his help, but worried about him.

he merely waves over his shoulder without another word. that's how you know he's not feeling well. you're sure he's mentally fatigued on top of everything as well. you'll just have to check on him tomorrow.

****

tomorrow arrives and you get home from work to see law's car parked in his driveway. you don't know his schedule, but something feels off. the bastard is absolutely sick.

so you make him chicken soup. you take the whole pot over when you're done along with a bag full of other sick supplies. but your concern skyrockets when you ring the doorbell and get no response. you wait a few minutes before ringing it again. still no answer. you try not to panic and convince yourself law isn't dead in his bed. because that would be dramatic.

crazy enough though you remember that you saw him put in his garage code once. what's even crazier is that you remembered it. maybe this isn't something you'll admit to him.

his house is eerily quiet and dark. all of his blinds are closed and his curtains are drawn. you peek into his bedroom since his door is open and he's laying there, in his underwear, tangled in sheets.

you're a creep, but this is for his health. so it's less creepy. you put everything down in his kitchen and grab the small towel you packed. you soak it through with cool water, also grabbing a bottle of gatorade and some ibuprofen before making your way to his room.

"law," you whisper and lean over to look at him. his breathing is ragged and huffing out through his mouth since his nose is obviously clogged. you put everything down except the towel, reaching out to lightly shake him. he barely stirs.

"law," you whisper louder and shake him a little rougher than before. he startles awake, his chest heaving as he looks around his darkened room bewildered.

when his eyes land on you he relaxes, but then he blinks, "what are you doing here?"

"i snuck in to check on you," you admit, a droplet of water from the towel drips down your wrist.

"how?" he's barely awake and his voice is so hoarse.

"it's better if you don't know," you respond as you push his shoulder so he's lying down again. his body naturally falls to the bed. his skin is burning beneath your palm and your chest aches at the sight. when you place the towel on his forehead he flinches, but quickly sighs from the relief.

you adjust law to place another pillow behind him so he's propped up slightly before handing him the painkillers and gatorade. he takes them without question, coughing a little after he swallows.

"you look like shit," you sigh, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"yeah, i feel like shit too," he slumps into his cushions, very much irritated about his current state. you do feel sorry for him. he looks quite pitiful if you're being honest.

"i brought soup. let me go grab some for you," you say, getting up quickly to head back to the kitchen. the soup is still hot when you serve it in a small bowl you found in the kitchen and head back to his bedroom.

you don't bother turning on any lights, surely he prefers the dark right now and since it's still daylight out there's just enough natural light filtering through the house to guide you. he's in the exact position you left him in except his eyes are closed and he's breathing carefully through his lips.

you sit down on the bed again. this time closer to him. he feels you sink into his mattress beside him and without looking he reaches for the bowl, but you pull it just out of his grasp.

"i got it," you say, stirring the soup so it cools off a little.

"you're not gonna feed me," he argues bitterly, like this is the last thing he needs.

"i am," you laugh as he opens his eyes just to glare at you. but with how sick he is, the stare doesn't hold very much weight.

"you really don't have to do that," he bemoans. poor thing.

"well, you didn't have to change my tire last night and you did." he doesn't say anything. "now open wide."

he begrudgingly listens, a very obvious pout on his lips before he parts them to wrap around the spoon you're holding out. you watch as the broth soothes his throat, the tiniest of moans crawling it's way out. you smirk to yourself, pride swelling in your chest.

he no longer argues as you feed him another bite. and another after that one. the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you feed him probably his first meal of the day. you can tell when he starts to feel more alive. he sits up further in bed, his breathing comes more naturally to him, and he eventually takes the towel off of his head.

he seems to forget he's practically naked. a fact that you have had to pointedly ignore. law's tattoos are far more extensive than you previously realized. they're so large that nearly his entire torso is covered. and you also know he's fit, having already made that conclusion after feeling him up a few times before. but jesus christ, his body is insane.

"you're staring." a hint of playfulness returns to his voice. your eyes snap up to his face and behind the sickly demeanor, there's the smallest bit of smugness in his features. your only response is to lift a spoonful of soup out the bowl and shove it into his mouth.

he chuckles around the spoon and then promptly coughs after he swallows.

"i just didn't expect you to have so many tattoos," you mutter, stirring the soup again to keep your eyes from wandering. he stretches his legs out, his thigh now pressing into you. you're not sure if its intentional, but neither of you move, so clearly you don't mind.

"i was a pretty rowdy kid," law says, his head falling to rest on his headboard. "ran around with some guys that i shouldn't have. definitely got into some shit i had no business being in."

"like getting tattoos?" you ask, scooping up some more soup.

"yeah," he nods, leaning over to eat from the spoon you're holding out to him. "it's how i met cora actually."

you tilted your head confused. "but isn't cora your brother?"

it clicks to law that you obviously don't know what he's talking about. he's usually not so open. "cora's adopted. my parents adopted him when he was 17. it was more of a formality if anything. i was 14 when it happened."

"how old were you when you met?"

"i was around 11, but i met his brother first. a real asshole," he shakes his head at the memory. "convinced me to steal some candy from the gas station and he'd pay me $20. and i did it of course, but i didn't find out until later that it was some weird initiation he did to recruit kids as a cover for him selling drugs because we'd get caught doing petty theft meanwhile he's selling coke and shit behind the building."

you're sure your eyes are wide and the spoon sits limply in your hand. "so you were in a gang?"

"pretty much," he chuckle-coughs at the look on your face. "cora's the only reason i got out to be honest. he snitched and told my parents i started selling too. i was pissed at him for months over it, but he was just looking out for me. he always hated his older brother."

you had no idea what to say. it's a lot to digest because he seems so unbothered by it all. but that makes sense since he lived it and its been years since.

"wow," you nod slightly. "where's his brother now?"

"maximum security prison."

"what?!" your jaw drops, absolutely stunned.

"i told you he's an asshole," law laughs, nudging you with the leg that's already pressed against you.

"i've met a lot of assholes in my life and none of them are in federal fucking prison," you say, still shocked by his admission. "and poor cora, that's so traumatizing."

"he's fine," law shrugs, gesturing for you to give him more soup, but you refrain.

"is he though? are you even?"

he snatches the bowl from you with a quickness he shouldn't possess with how ill he is, disappointment on his face when he looks down and realizes he ate it all.

"there's more in the kitchen, you baby." you take the bowl back and wait for him to answer.

"yes, we're both fine. i'm a surgeon, cora's a chidren's librarian. we are ok," he holds his hands up as if he's surrendering. "the tattoos on my arms i got as a kid, but the chest and back piece were years later."

"you have a back tattoo?" this man is quite possibly the strangest person you've ever met. purely because everything he said was so unexpected. you're currently still processing it all.

"if i show you, will you get me more soup?" he bargains, adjusting his body to prepare to flip over.

"fine," but you only agree as an excuse to continue ogling him without him witnessing it. it takes a fair bit of effort for him to turn over. his body weighed down by his cold. but you see that his back tattoo is just as large as the one on his chest and before you think better of it, your fingers are touching him. they trace the outline of the large circle and drag along the lines that extend from it. it's all thick black lines and it probably hurt like a bitch. his muscles are especially nice, all corded and firm beneath your touch. if he wasn't so sick you would absolutely sink your teeth into this man.

"i'm still hungry," he says, words muffled by his pillow. your shoulders jump and you hop off the bed hurriedly.

"right! i'll be right back." your face is warm and you swear you hear his laugh as you scurry out of his bedroom. he's too distracting.

this is a problem.

part six

#here we have the obligatory shoujo sick episode #i had to add some lore #i can't help myself #neighbor!law au #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #shortnsweet🍒

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suzukiblu · 9 months ago

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"Lex Luthor's latest character flaw" poll winner, "deciding he wants grandbabies and giving Robin a cloning lab about it". Behold, a new WIP strikes!!

“What,” Tim says, staring blankly at the brightly-lit and airy sunroom full of very obvious cloning technology in the very expensive penthouse that Lex Luthor’s bodyguards just dragged a handcuffed Red Robin and Spoiler into after kidnapping them straight off patrol in the Diamond District in the middle of an active crisis situation with the League of Assassins and disabling all their tech and every single one of their trackers six and a half hours ago, down to the bastardized Kryptonian-tech ones in their back molars and two more in both of their suits that Tim didn’t even know existed, plus the one he put in Steph’s collar that she didn’t know existed. Babs is probably just about feral by now. Bruce is definitely feral by now.

And Lex Luthor is drinking what appears to be a neon purple protein shake out of a rocks glass while sitting at a neatly-arranged desk in the center of the sunroom lab, looking idly bored and scrolling through whatever’s on his phone with his free hand.

Alright then, Tim thinks carefully.

“There you are, I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten al Ghul riled up for nothing,” Luthor says, barely glancing up from his tablet.

“. . . which al Ghul,” Tim asks with wary dread.

“All of them,” Luthor says, setting down his tablet to give him a pleasant smile.

Well, now Tim knows why nobody’s dropped in a skylight to rescue them yet. And also why half of Gotham is currently on fire.

“Uh,” Steph says, glancing around the sunroom lab. “So like, lead-lined glass in here, then, or . . . ?”

“We’re in Connecticut, so no,” Luthor replies dismissively. “Anyway, the Boy Scout always gets suspicious of too much lead in one place. Which I personally find darling, since anyone in Metropolis without at least a lead-lined and soundproofed bedroom is essentially asking for Kryptonian voyeurs, whether intentionally or not on said Kryptonians’ parts. Also, privacy laws exist for a reason. As do patents, copyrights, attorney-client privilege, HIPAA . . .”

“Connecticut?” Steph repeats incredulously. “What the frick is in Connecticut?”

“Currently, us,” Luthor replies matter-of-factly. “Hope, Mercy, do me a favor and go check the security systems manually, just in case any invasive species of vermin have gotten into them. Also, yes, there is kryptonite, and no, there is actually much more than you’re theorizing.”

“You have literally no idea how much kryptonite we’re theorizing,” Steph says as the bodyguards both leave with an affirming nod. Luthor gives her a pitying look, then turns his chair a few degrees towards Tim. Tim immediately expects the inevitable threat or ultimatum, and braces himself for–

“I’d apologize for all the fuss, but I don’t actually care about inconveniencing you and don’t see the point in pretending I ever would,” Luthor informs him. Tim stares blankly at him again. What is even happening right now? “Now then, what are your intentions in regards to ‘Supernova’, as I hear someone’s started calling himself now. ‘Themself’? I’m not sure if ‘Supernova’ is meant to be gender-affirming or more a ‘too old to stick with ‘Superboy’ but there are already three ‘Supermen’ active and the whole, you know, general stubborn individualism they’re so fond of. Or ‘he’s’ so fond of. Whichever."

Tim stares at him.

“Is this supposed to be a trap for Supernova or a shovel talk for me?” he asks, because a) he’s not telling Lex Luthor anything about Kon’s gender or personal choices that Kon hasn’t publicly stated, and b) only Lex Luthor would actually kidnap two active vigilantes in the middle of a crisis he’d apparently pre-arranged to give a–well, no, Bruce would also do that, definitely. But this is not a Batman talk, either way.

Batman’s “talks” all involve tests, for one thing, so actually so far this is an improvement.

“It’s an engagement present,” Luthor says pleasantly.

Tim’s brain crashes, then does the slowest reboot of his life. He’s recovered from concussions faster, he’s pretty sure.

“They’re . . . not engaged, though?” Steph says skeptically. “Or, like, even dating?”

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively.

#timkon #tim drake #lex luthor #stephanie brown #dc robin #dc spoiler #wip: tim's free cloning lab #long post

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year ago

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Steve was looking around for his wallet to pay the pizza man but he couldn't find it. It was Eddie who found it wedged between the couch cushions.

"Thanks, Daddy," Steve said and went to pay the pizza man.

Eddie's eyes widened, and he whipped his head around to face Robin, whose eyes were just as wide.

"You heard that, right?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, buddy, I did," Robin said. "He does that, though, calls people names that are similar to their own. He called me Bobin the other day. Although, I kind of like it. And Daddy is awfully close to Eddie."

"Oh," Eddie said softly.

"You sound disappointed. Did you want him to call you that?" Robin asked.

"What? No. I like girls," Eddie squeaked.

"Eddie, you know about me. You know I wouldn't care if you were also like me," Robin said softly.

"I like girls, Robin," Eddie said.

"Well, I'm just going to put this information out there, for anyone who's interested. . . You can like more than one gender," Robin said.

"Pardon?" Eddie asked.

Before Robin could even open her mouth, Steve came back into the room.

"You'll never believe who's delivering pizzas now," Steve said, only to find Robin and Eddie staring at him. "What?"

"My name is Eddie," he said.

"Thanks, I had no clue," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "Of course, I know your name is Eddie."

"You called me Daddy," Eddie said.

"No, I did not," Steve said and rolled his eyes. "This is just like when Robin thought I called her Bobin. Is it possible that you're just hearing what you want to hear?"

"You think I want to be called Bobin?" She asked.

"You did say you kind of liked it," Eddie pointed out.

"Okay, the pizzas are getting cold," Steve said and headed into the kitchen.

Eddie leaned forward as he stared blankly ahead. He pressed his hands together.

"Do I want him to call me Daddy?" Eddie asked, and then his eyes went wide. "Oh my God, Bobin, I think I want him to call me Daddy, and while he's in my lap, and he's. . . "

"Woah, you can stop there!" Robin exclaimed.

Eddie jumped up and started pacing. He was muttering under his breath as he did calculations in the air. Robin jumped in front of him and grabbed his shoulders.

"Eddie, this a good thing," she said softly.

"I know, it's just surprising, or maybe I'm surprised about the fact that I'm not really surprised at all," Eddie said. "Everyone's been calling me queer for years, I just - "

"Didn't want them to be right because they're a bunch of assholes," Robin said and grinned. "Well, that's understandable."

Eddie was about to open his mouth to say something else when Steve walked back into the room.

"Did I order pizza for nothing?" Steve asked and Eddie stared at him. "What?"

"Steve," Robin started to say before Eddie started crossing the room.

He didn't even go around the coffee table. He just walked directly over it.

"Eddie! What did I say about walking on the furn - Mmmm!" Steve was interrupted.

Eddie grabbed him, dipped him, and looked at him questioningly with his lips close to Steve’s. Steve nodded, and Eddie crashed his lips to his. Steve immediately gasped into his mouth before kissing him back and gripping his shoulders. Eddie quickly broke the kiss and brought Steve back up.

"Wooo! Yeah, definitely not straight!" Eddie exclaimed and slapped Steve’s ass. "You can call me whatever you want, big boy. Hell, you can even call me Big Daddy if you want to."

Eddie swaggered into the kitchen, leaving Steve dazed.

"I told you accidentally calling him daddy would work," Robin said and then winced. "I didn't know he wasn't awake yet. My bad. The hanky threw me off. Well, it all worked out. Steve? Jesus, where did that kiss send you? It couldn't have been that good."

"Leave me alone, Robin. I'm literally seeing through space and time right now," Steve said, closing his eyes.

"Hey! There's pizza in here! In case you forgot," Eddie called out.

Robin rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen.

"You Vecna'd him with that kiss, asshole!" Robin exclaimed.

"Hmm," Eddie said, his mouth full of pizza. "Maybe another kiss will wake the prince."

He skipped back into the living room.

"I'm eating all the fucking pizza!" Robin yelled.

"That's fine! I found something good to eat in here!" Eddie hollered back.

"Swallow that pizza before you kiss me, Eddie!" She heard Steve exclaim. "I'm not a baby bird!"

Meanwhile, Robin was smiling as they squabbled until it fell into silence. She was glad they both finally figured things out. Her clueless boys. She wouldn't trade them for the world. Hmm, maybe for the recipe for this pizza. Holy shit, they've never been this good before.

"Hey, who'd you say was delivering the pizzas?" Robin asked.

"Not only did they deliver the pizzas, but they also made them!" Steve hollered back.

"Name, Dingus!"

"Argyle!" Steve yelled. "I asked him to stay, but he had other deliveries to make. He said he needed to spread the love."

"Aw. I love that guy," Robin muttered.

As she chewed down on the pizza, she decided that she definitely needed to add a new best friend to her collective. Yeah, Argyle was definitely her new best friend.

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baguettesandbows · 5 months ago

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tw! sa undertones

If you thought you felt crazy thinking that Jason was alive before, you felt ten times crazier in Arkham.

The place wasn’t built for crazy people, it was built to keep them inside. Away from the high end galas and family members who were ashamed of them. A place where Batman could put villains that were too much trouble for the GCPD.

You fit into those catagories perfectly.

Dick wasn’t lying, Bruce had gotten you the suite. The suite in Arkham. You had assumed your room might be better than the ones the Joker would’ve had. Or any other villain that’s escaped from here.

Escaped. Maybe that’s why Bruce put you in a suite.

Through unpacking, they didn’t slow you to bring in any of Jason’s items. His sweatshirt, his favorite books, even the paper band from your first concert together.

Because it would trigger your attacks.

You had punched the guards nose as they carried you out from holding.

What you had to give to Arkham, was they kept to a schedule. The point of it seemed to make everyone more crazy. Therapy was interrogating, Lunch was slop, and visiting hours… was just Dick.

You’re least favorite time of Arkham was Rec. They’d put you and the other high class young women in the same room, and expected no fights to happen. Sometimes, they’d mix the genders so there would be fights.

You learned quickly to keep to yourself and not tell anyone anything. You could practically hear Jason saying “Snitches don’t get stitches. They go missin’ in Gotham.”

Jason. Jason Todd. The boy who called you birdie. Your first everything. His red tank tops and his boyish smirk, his arm covered in friendship bracelets you’d make while he was on patrol-

“Reader?”

You look up from the table and avoid looking at the couple practically shagging in the corner, to focus on the man with a clipboard, looking around the room.

You were new, but he seemed newer.

“Here.” You mumble, getting up and walking past a small group of men who eye you in your sweatsuit.

You meet the man at the gate locking in the rec room, and meet his gaze blankly.

“You’re Reader? Right, I’m Jefferson, the new assistant to Doctor Jane.” The man says softly, yet clearly trying to be.. intimidating? “I’m taking over her clients while she’s on break after the.. incident.”

The incident. A woman had snuck a metal pipe into her meeting last week.

“Right.”

Jefferson clears his throat and smiles warmly at you, an expression not hardened yet by Arkham. “Follow me, please.”

Jefferson met with you two times a week. The first weeks were rough, since you had expected Jefferson to be the same as everyone else. To instantly deny your truth.

But he listened. He listened to your ideas, and your proof. You think he would’ve even looked at your evidence, if you were allowed to bring it in.

Sometimes, although it wasn’t allowed, he’d bring you a coffee. One from a diner on his way to Arkham.

You had questioned another woman in your cell block about if Jefferson bought everyone coffee on tuesdays. That question earned you a right hook, due to being a favorite.

You were laying in your room, staring at the top of your bed frame, fidgeting with your hands. Every night, you’d memorize Jason’s face. Especially when you weren’t allowed to have pictures of him here, you couldn’t forget his features.

You didn’t want to forget his face, in case he walked right by you.

With as much money Arkham gets from supporters and investors, the walls were paper thin. You could hear the rustling of your next door neighbor, as her secret escapades with one of the guards weren’t secret to you.

Below, you could hear pounding, most likely one of the women who was given a punching bad to ease her anger.

Your body trembled from the cold, but it wasn’t just from Arkhams shivering tempature. You had gotten used to Jason sneaking in, warming you up after his patrol. His ego boosting from his smirk as he told you about the goons he had taken down during the night.

He was so proud to be Robin. More people should’ve been proud of him for it.

You don’t realize your sobbing until the thumping next door stops, and your use of their white noise draws you out of it.

What, did your crying turn them off?

You hear rustling, before the guard walks out of her cell and up to yours. Unlocking the door, she peers in at you.

“You miss your dose of somethin’?”

You furrow your eyebrows. You knew most patients here took doses of things, but naively you assumed it was for their mental illnesses.

“For what?”

“For sleepin’. Almost everyone here gets some.” The guard says. “Leaves us less to deal with at night.”

At least she was honest.

You think for a moment, or not at all, before replying.

“Yeah. I take those.”

The pills make time in Arkham fly by.

You realize it’s why most of the patients take then. If you didn’t look at Jeffersons calendar every meeting, you’d understand why most of these people go crazy.

Jason would knee you in the vagina if he knew what you were doing. But he’s understand. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself.

You’ve noticed one thing about Arkham, the prosedures.

Shock therapy. You wouldnt beleive it still existed, if you hadn’t seen the marks on the women at your lunch table. You had realized they hadn’t done it to you, because Dick or Bruce must be too involved with your care. Plus, Bruce could figure out anything that happened to you, as long as he was interested.

You hope that being his sons girlfriend will be enough for him to care about you for as long as your in here.

Jefferson’s office smelled good. Different than usual. You realized why when you saw a candle on his desk.

“Reader, come on in.” Jefferson says from his desk, scrubbing on his papers. “Sorry for the mess, some of the patients here have no knowledge for manners.”

He looked at you and gestures for you to sit in the chair across his desk like usual. You did as he said, and he seemed to always relax at your obedience.

“I heard we had a setback earlier this week.” Jefferson starts. “Randy told me she heard you talking to..” He checks his papers. “Jason, in your room.”

“I wasn’t talking to him.” You mutter. “I was talking about him. To myself.”

Jefferson clears his throat and nods. “Right. Well, we do know that a main reason your here is for your.. obsession to this case.”

He slides over a cup of coffee for you, which you take, tkaing a sip.

“Reader, you know that I am supportive of your ideas about this Jason. Regardless, any way out of Arkham is proving the fact that you aren’t, focused on what happened to him.”

Jefferson gets up from his desk and walks around it, sitting on the edge and looking down at you as you sip your coffee.

His lips twitch. “Good, right?” He says quietly, watching you. You nod, and he starts. “I don’t think you should be here. You aren’t like these other women. They have tarnished themselves. But you..” He draws off, reaching out to gently take the coffee from you.

Your lips were practically still on the container as he pulls it back to himself, making you look up at him in confusion. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip. He makes a noise as the coffee hits his tongue before looking at you. “I’m the only one that listens to you in here.” He says quietly. “I think you know that. And if what your saying is true, I want you to be able to get out of here and prove everyone wrong.”

He leans in, meeting your gaze. “I can sign you off and have you out of here after evaluation, but after all those treats i’ve given you, I think I deserve some of my own. Don’t you?”

#jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight

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jscrawls · 3 months ago

Text

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, mentions of death, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 4: Plan of action.

🔹🔹🔹

You're restless, the impromptu visit from your supposed “husband” plagues you as you pick apart every second of it, from the mannerisms of him and the doctor to how he spoke to you. Even all the meds they've got you on haven't knocked you out yet even though it's late, the lights dimmed and the rest of the facility has fallen relatively quiet. Nothing else to do you think, piece out what little you have.

You know you died, jumped to your death on an alien planet far from earth. You remember the feeling, the pain, as quick as it was was unbearable, shock not having time to settle in. Yet you're on earth in a hospital bed, an undetermined amount of time having passed, no mention of aliens or the snap or the heroes you worked under. No Thanos. That's the only part you're thankful for.

But a partner? Kids? Not in your life. Something's wrong.

You stare at the dark ceiling for what feels like hours, the lack of Windows frustrates you since you can't even see what time of day it is, just go off the staff's schedules, the room feels like a choke point, a cell, a little box you're shoved into. You just hope they haven't played with the supersoldier serum again. A noise stirs outside your door, you relax your whole body as you wrap your hand around the syringe, subtly popping the cap off.

The door makes little sound, it's well oiled it seems, if it weren't for the air changing you'd have thought it was just someone walking by, a nurse or something. The fact that they're sneaking is enough for you to act, your eyes closed in feigned rest. the air changes again, above your head to the left, quick as a cat you strike out with the syringe.

🔹🔹🔹

If Tim hadn't hadn't just come off a case he might not have been so jumpy, he might have taken the needle right in the neck. He quickly yet awkwardly grabs at the hand and bats it away before he gets stabbed, his eyes widening under the cowl.

“Woah! Woah calm down! Easy I'm one of the good guys.” He holds his hands up placatingly and steps back, what the hell just happened? You were seemingly asleep a second ago!

“Come on, why does everybody go for the neck?” He grumbles as he eyes the syringe, his eyes quickly meeting yours even though his aren't visible, at least you're awake now?…

“good guys don't sneak up on people in hospitals, who are you and how'd you get in here.” Your voice is steely as you study the man, he sounds young, really likes red and black it seems…is that a cape? A bit dramatic for your taste.

“Wha- hey Gotham heroes do! It's our- Okay let's get back on target here, can we put the needle down? You won't be needing that.” He steps closer slowly, when you don't immediately relinquish the makeshift weapon he stops short of the hospital bed.

Gotham huh, sounds like a made-up name. Your expression doesn't falter. “you didn't answer my questions, name and business here?”

“…I'm red Robin, you remember that?”

Your eyes narrow, he's clearly gotten a hold of your diagnosis somehow, bribery? Impersonating a doctor? Hacking? Maybe they're just all in on it.

“No. Why are you named after a fast food joint?” It's a trip question, throw him for a loop to see how he reacts.

He looks taken aback, his foot sliding back slightly as he tilts his head, offended possibly?

“I'm actually moreso honoring Robin, guess it's a bit in the nose eh?”

He glances at you like he expects something, the silence stretches on, you both staring at each other until it starts to get uncomfortable. His feet shift again, his hands start fidgeting with his pockets.

“…who's this Robin?” you ask blankly, fed up with all the name games already. You pull yourself upright in the bed, the syringe still held close to you just Incase.

“You…. Do you remember Batman?” He sounds genuinely upset for a moment, subconsciously leaning towards you. there's that spark of attachment like with the Wayne, what the hells going on?

“bat-man? Like, Chiroptera family, or a baseball bat?”

It's a fair question in your mind, you're no stranger to literal codenames so maybe it's some man with a wooden bat. another staring contest, silence blankets over the two of you for another uncomfortable moment. If this is an interrogation or assassination attempt it's a poor one.

“…how do you even-okay this is getting out of hand. I just wanted to see how you're doing, how's your head?” He starts to gesture towards you and then stops, clearly still wary of the syringe in your fist.

“don't know. pain meds.” Sounds answer enough in your mind, red Robin nods with a slight grimace on what's visible of his face, seemingly satisfied with that.

He shifts from foot to foot, restless or impatient? Head tilting down as he worries his lip, your eyes narrow as you watch the young man process something.

“…. I'm gonna figure something out to help your memory, okay?” He speaks firmly after an awkward moment of silence, reaching out to Pat your shoulder absentmindedly before flinching back again. What is with the familiarity? The people here are too touchy in your opinion.

He ducks out of the room without another word after that, silence falling over you once again, you're not letting that guy anywhere near your memories, that's for sure.

🔹🔹🔹

That was….a lot, Tim's dealt with a lot of weird shit in his day. people high off fear toxin, mind control, time vortex's, but this was just unsettling. In the GC Bruce described them as off, but mostly just disoriented, dazed maybe. They spoke gently and accepted their situation seemingly well. That's not what Tim saw, they were like a completely different person wearing his parent's face. The body language, the aggression, the tone infliction and way of speaking, that wasn't just a younger brain version of them, Tim's sure of it. Maybe they were more affected by the incident than anyone realized?….

Tim leaps rooftop to rooftop as he tries to puzzle it out, dropping down onto a fire escape and pausing, watching the hustle and bustle of Gothams nightlife. He'll figure out a way to help them, and that's a fact.

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: didn't forget Timmy boi was with Bruce, he just wanted to show up in dramatic fashion, this almost backfired on him spectacularly.

Taglist: @cxcilla @redsakura101 @mercuryathens @dind1n @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @thewitchblue

#dc x y/n #dc x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman fanfiction #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #black widow reader

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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

Text

Steve glances down at his watch and looks around at the kids anxiously awaiting Eddie's arrival. He's five minutes late. In any other situation, this wouldn't be a lot, but considering that Eddie makes it a point to be either on time or (most likely) early to anything involving D&D with the party... it's highly concerning.

Steve glances at his watch again just to give himself something to do when Dustin finally bursts out, "Okay! This has to be a prank, right? Like someone has to be in on this."

Steve glances at all the other kids staring blankly at Dustin and finally decides to take matters into his own hands. "I don't think that's what's going on, Henderson, but thanks for the input. You guys stay here, and I'll go check on his place."

"I'm coming with you," Dustin states firmly.

Steve furrows his brows. "No, you're staying because if Eddie gets here and you're gone then that just means more waiting." When Dustin crosses his arms and continues staring, Steve sighs, digs his wallet out of his pocket, and hands Dustin a few bills. "Order a pizza and hang out for a bit or something. Walkie me if he gets here."

Dustin smiles brightly and takes the money immediately rushing off to Mike who is already on the phone calling the pizza place. Steve puts his hands on his hips and asks, "And what do you say?"

"Thanks, Mom," Mike says flatly, raising his eyebrows and looking entirely unimpressed.

"Thank you!" Lucas says as Will smiles and gives him a quiet, "Thank you, Steve."

Steve waits for Dustin who rolls his eyes and says, "Thank you. Now check on Eddie." Steve raises his eyebrows. Dustin sighs, "Please."

"You guys are going to be the death of me," Steve says as he makes his way up the Wheeler's basement steps. He wishes Max and El were there to have his back, but they had taken the chance to have a sleepover while the guys were too distracted to interfere with their girl time. He thinks calling Max to ask her to check on Eddie would also count as interfering.

It's not that Steve minds too much. Really, he rarely gets alone time with Eddie, and it's been a while since he's truly checked up on him. After the bats, Steve often went to his place and helped with wound care since he personally knew what he was going through. But as time went on and their injuries slowly turned into scars, it was harder to find excuses to see Eddie alone.

So, Steve settles for seeing him when the kids invite them both to something, and he's started to even hang around during their D&D sessions, soaking in all of Eddie that he can. He still refuses to play, too afraid of the kids making fun of him for getting confused, but he easily gets lost in the campaigns through Eddie's storytelling.

He thinks it's easy to get lost in anything Eddie's passionate about. It may go right over Steve's head, but he would do just about anything to listen to Eddie ramble - sometimes it might just be an excuse to stare at his lips, but no one (except Robin) needed to know that.

Steve nearly misses his turn while thinking a little too hard about Eddie's lips, but he makes it, turning into the trailer park and parking outside of Eddie's place fairly quickly. He sees Eddie's van in the driveway and takes a deep breath, hoping Eddie just somehow lost track of time or something.

Steve quickly rushes out of the car and knocks on the front door, waiting to hear Eddie's footsteps or grumbling as he makes it to the door.

But silence is the only thing coming from the other side.

Steve knocks harder, hoping the neighbors won't start snooping with all the noise he's making, especially when, a few seconds later, Steve decides he has waited long enough and pulls the door open. He quickly closes it and locks it on instinct as he calls out, "Eddie?"

The living room and kitchen are empty, but Steve doesn't hear the shower running, so he quickly bursts into Eddie's room calling out his name again.

His eyes fall on Eddie lying in bed with the covers tucked all around him, but his pale face is slightly visible through the dark strands of hair covering it. The last time Steve had seen him like this was in the upside down when...

"Eddie!" Steve says, rushing to the side of the bed and brushing the hair out of his face. He cups Eddie's face in his hands and nearly shakes him before he sees his brows twitch as he begins frowning.

"What..." Eddie groans out, eyes squinting open.

Steve breathes out a sigh of relief as he nearly tackles Eddie into a tight hug, ending up nearly on top of him.

"Good morning to you, too," Eddie jokes, squeezing Steve back. "Wait, what time is it?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at him. He runs a hand over his cheek, feeling the warmth of it against his palm, a reminder that he's okay. "It's past five, and it's Friday."

It takes a few moments before a look of realization crosses over Eddie's face, his eyes widening as he curses, "Shit! I couldn't sleep last night, and I decided to take a nap around... three? Maybe?" He shifts back on the bed and starts trying to sit up.

Steve places a hand on his chest and pushes him back down.

"Hello," Eddie says as a blush spreads across his face. "This is fun, but I have a dungeon to master," he jokes, showing off his dimples.

Steve nearly forgets how to breathe for a second, but he finally gets it together enough to say, "You and I both know how hard it is to sleep after everything, so if you're able to sleep now, then you're sleeping."

"I'm fine, re-" Eddie yawns and covers his mouth. "Really."

Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

Eddie sighs and turns on his side to directly face him. "Steve, the kids will kill me if I don't do this session tonight."

"And I'll kill them if they give you shit about it. Does tomorrow night work?"

"I mean, yeah, probably but-"

"Great," Steve interrupts as he stands up and grabs the walkie Eddie keeps on a designated shelf. "Hey, Dustin, this is Steve."

"Is it a code red? Over." Dustin immediately replies on the other side.

"No, everything is fine here. We just need to postpone until tomorrow night if that's fine with everyone."

"There is no postponing D&D!" Dustin screeches.

Steve sighs and replies, "If you complain again I'm giving you no rides or money for a month."

There's a long pause from the other side before there's a response, "Tomorrow works! See you then!" Lucas answers.

Steve looks back at Eddie and gestures toward the walkie. "See?"

Except, Eddie is already beginning to doze off again, head nodding and snapping up every few seconds.

Steve smiles and slowly makes his way back to the bed, gently guiding Eddie back down before tugging up the covers and leaning over to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead. "Goodnight."

As Steve begins to move back, Eddie's hand latches onto his wrist. He stares up at him sleepily and asks, "Stay? You need the sleep, too."

And he's right. He absolutely does need the sleep, and there's no way he's going to turn down the offer from Eddie, but... "Eddie, you're half asleep, you don't know what you're asking."

Eddie looks him in the eye and says, "I know exactly what I'm asking, and if I read the signs wrong then sue me."

Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest. "Eddie..."

"Let's talk about feelings and everything when we wake up, okay? If you don't want to stay, that's okay. But know that I would want you here no matter what."

Steve looks down at him for a few seconds before he turns to take off his shoes. When he turns back, Eddie is smiling and holding the blanket up.

Steve accepts the invitation and finds himself wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Steve gently runs a hand through Eddie's hair, only stopping when Eddie grabs his hand and presses a gentle kiss against it.

Steve responds by bending down and planting a kiss on Eddie's head. He smiles when Eddie happily hums.

As Steve focuses on Eddie's breathing evening out, he finds himself matching it and slowly starts drifting off, falling asleep easily for the first time in a long time with happy thoughts of what's to come when they finally wake up.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things

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urinarythreatinfection · 6 months ago

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Hi, I really like your work with Sanji! Can I request a fanfic where the reader is a person who didn't get love from his parents as a child, but only money? The reader is a woman, if anything! How the reader will try to show her love to Sanji is your choice! Thanks in advance!

This was a bit hard at first but I ended up getting into it eventually. It might've turned out a little more angsty than I thought but I felt like it worked really well. If you aren't at 1053 i'm really sorry I put it in there bc it worked really well too.

Insecure Love

Sanji x Fem Reader. Angst/comfort and some fluff. Major Spoilers for episode 1053. 2740 words.

Sanji adores you, you’re perfect to him. Beautiful, amazing, talented, everything. You are the best woman he could ever wish for. Sometimes he even lays awake at night thinking of the memories the two of you have made, goofy smile on his face he’s so enamored. There is one problem though, just a teensy one, you’re not at all affectionate. You don’t stop him from being affectionate to you, but you don’t exactly reciprocate or initiate. Instead, you give him gifts, which was nice at first but he started to feel a bit conflicted about it the more it happened. He would rather get love from you rather than a material good you’d bought somewhere. What’s worse is that the gifts have stopped, it’s almost always just money now.

“Here.” You say blankly to Sanji while he’s cooking, handing him cash. He spots you and his eyes trail to the berri in your hand, a small frown on his face. “Is it not enough?” He jolts and quickly shakes his head.

“No, that isn’t it. Thank you.” He forces a smile and takes it, pain in his chest. Your boyfriend tries so hard to make you feel loved, cooking for you, complimenting you, showing physical affection, but all you do is hand him cash like payment for a service; like his love was simply something nice you pay him for. He’s tried refusing it before but you had gotten upset, putting it away with a sad expression until he agreed to take it. Now you look at him as he pockets it, telling himself he’ll use it to buy ingredients for a dish you’ll like. After he puts it in his pocket he hugs you, kissing you for a bit before pulling away. “I’m going to finish cooking soon, my love, would you like to stay here?” His eyes are expectant, hoping you’ll stay, but you shake your head.

“I’ll leave you to it, you should focus.” With that, you leave him alone in the kitchen. He looks at the ingredients he was chopping, the money you gave him weighing down his heart. Is this really so one-sided? Has he just been bothering you this entire time? Maybe he’s just a toy you can play with, a music box that sings for you when you put money inside. Those thoughts crowd his head as he cooks until he accidentally lifts a hot lid with his bare hand, burning his skin; but before he can go to treat it... it heals on its own. The cook grits his teeth, clenching his fist. What a creepy ability. He puts his head in his hands and takes deep breaths, it’s okay, he loves you, you’re still together.

“Are you alright?” Robin asks him as he sets food down in front of the girls, including you, completely spaced out.

“Oh, sorry Robin-chan.” He snaps out of it and smiles at her. “I’m doing okay.” The cook leaves to serve the rest of the crew, steps noticeably heavier than normal. The women watch this, then look to you.

“Did you two argue or something? What’d he do?” Nami asks, ready to defend you, but you shake your head.

“I don’t know, I thought he was okay earlier, I handed him money and he accepted like normal.” You’re confused, and they both look at eachother.

“Like normal..?” Nami asks again.

“Yeah, I’ve been giving my allowance to him since we started dating. I know he sometimes struggles with food budget so I like helping out.” You explain and the two girls stare at you.

“(Y/n) what have you been doing so far in your relationship with Sanji?” Robin questions you and you start to talk, explaining that you’ve been getting him gifts since you both started dating; but you ran out of ideas on what to give him so you’ve started to give him money when he makes you happy.

“Wow…That’s horrible.” The navigator states, starting to pity Sanji.

“Like a sugar baby?” Your jaw drops slightly at Robin’s comparison and you quickly shake your head.

“A sugar baby!?” You’re shocked but start to think about it. “Wait, is that what he wants?”

“Obviously not!” The navigator snaps at your obliviousness. “He basically collapses the moment a woman does something for him but you’ve just been giving him money?”

“Wouldn’t you like that though?” You point out and she frowns.

“That’s different.” She considers money an okay gift for her, though even she would get annoyed if she had a lover that would only give her money and ignore anything else. “Plus you hardly show him affection, I thought it was just your guys’ thing so I didn’t say anything but you’re clearly bumming him out.”

“I haven’t refused anything from him though, and I don’t get mad at him for flirting with other women.” The navigator sighs, mentally facepalming, this isn’t working out. You’re too oblivious and Sanji’s too much of an idiot to tell anyone something’s wrong, much less a woman he loves. Robin comes up with something.

“Tomorrow you should come to our room at noon. We’ll assist you” You tilt your head, confused, but agree.

That night, Sanji heads to bed still sad and only getting worse. He can’t sleep, he’s been having trouble doing so since that happened. ‘She was there, she must’ve seen.’ An unnatural thing, becoming the same type of monster he always despised. You must’ve fallen out of love with him, that’s it. He can’t blame you, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t digging a hole into his chest. He curls up into a ball on his bed, grasping at the sheets next to him like you’ll be there.

_________________

The next morning goes as it usually does on the Sunny. Sanji wakes up early to make breakfast for everyone and when they wake up it’s time to eat. The difference now is that Sanji seems off, tired, he doesn’t yell at Luffy or Zoro and his happy comments towards Robin and Nami aren’t enthusiastic. When he sets down your plate in front of you you look up at him, trying to scan his face if he’s sick. He awakened late so it would make sense if his Germa genes weren’t as strong, maybe he’s gotten sick? You’re worried and so is everyone else, except Luffy who doesn’t notice until after eating. He almost says something but is promptly elbowed so he keeps shut. He means well but mentioning it right now will make things worse, plus, the girls have a plan.

Afternoon finally strikes and you walk into the shared girls room, they aren’t there. 'Maybe I came too early?’ You think to yourself, checking the time to make sure it’s noon. Suddenly you hear footsteps and the door opens, revealing Robin, Nami, and your boyfriend. They push him inside and he spots you, looking shocked; but before he could ask what’s going on the door closes. He tries the doorknob but it’s locked, switched so the lock is on the outside.

“Don’t even try unlocking the door or breaking it down. You aren’t allowed out until you two communicate.” Nami states and footsteps are heard fading away. You stare at Sanji’s back, his hands on the wooden door. Does he not want to be with you alone with you this much? Usually he’d be excited to have time to spend with you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him and the cook turns quickly, not prepared for this. He isn’t ready yet! He still needs to prepare his heart for the breakup and practice his apologies for you falling out of love. “Sanji..” You reach a hand out to him and he flinches, pressing his back against the wall like he’s afraid of you. He’s scared to be touched by you, scared that when you feel his skin you’ll retract from fear and disgust from the steel-like flesh. It isn’t right, these misunderstandings cause pain and you bite your bottom lip. What are you doing wrong, what did Nami mean by saying what you were doing was horrible? You step away from him and turn around, the both of you too insecure to speak. Fortunately, being trapped in this room will force you to.

‘She can’t even bear to look at me.’ Negativity clouds his judgment, irrational thoughts filling his mind. “I’m sorry.” An apology, it sounds guilty. This must be a sign.

‘He’s breaking up with me…’ There’s too much stress, him avoiding you, being told something is wrong, and now this breakup. The dam of stone formed by the years of trauma starts to crack, tears dripping from your eyes. Sanji doesn’t see it, but he can hear your shaky breaths. It causes his eyes to widen and his worry for you overpowers his instinct to pull away.

“Mon cœur!?” Your lover walks to you and scans your teary face, his hands cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t have to call me that,” His heart breaks, you’re breaking up with him so he would have to stop calling you that. Your next words confuse him, though. “I know you don’t want to.” …He doesn’t want to? Sanji blinks a few times, why would he ever not want to call his everything what she is?

“What are you talking about? I-”

“Stop forcing yourself!” You yell and he jolts. “It must’ve been hard. Your love for women made you stay with me for so long but I know you don’t love me. Being hesitant about my gifts, not talking to me as much, and you're starting to look tired too.” You step back and put your face in your hands. “You must be staying up late thinking about how you could break up with me.” He stands there, shocked. Him… breaking up with you? The perfect woman completely out of his league? Tears flow from your eyes faster and he tries to make sense of it all, his brain so focused on his own faults that the thought of you being insecure of yours is unable to cross his mind.

“Do you mean the berri you’ve been giving me?” He manages to put together and you nod. He continues to think. “You… it wasn’t payment to you?” He doesn’t know what else to call it so he settles with that word.

“Payment?” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “Is that why you’ve been staying with m-”

“No, nonono of course not. I thought..” Sanji quickly interrupts you, stopping that thought. This is different from what he thought was going to happen, but it still hurts to speak his mind when it only reminds him of what’s wrong, well what he thinks is wrong. “I thought you were giving me those things as payment because you didn’t want to pay attention to me. So I wouldn’t bother you, that my love was just a transaction.” He says the last part more quietly and your heart drops. This is familiar, you’ve felt this exact way before when you were young. Going to your parents for love and only getting money in return to shut you up and get you away. You start to shake and cry harder.

“I-I, I didn’t know. I’m sorry..!” You’re just like them, but Sanji doesn’t care; hugging you.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” He’s already forgiving you and you haven’t even explained anything.

“No, it’s n-not okay.” You say while shaking your head, it’s nerve-wracking to talk about your past but you choose to. For him. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was different from my parents who would give me things instead of love, I always made sure t-to never tell you to go away or reject you but I ended up making you feel the exact same way I did!” You pull away and cover your face. “I’m horrible!”

‘The same way she did?’ He processes what you said, what’s happening. The struggle of trying so hard to be different from family only to end up like them is something he knows as well. His hand goes to his chest, pressing down and feeling almost completely dense skin instead of the regular squish of flesh; just like his brothers. “You don’t think I’m a monster…” You quickly shake your head. “Why didn’t you say so? Are you sure- I mean you never wanted to be with me!” Whenever he was cooking or if he went shopping you would just give him money and wave him off.

“I..” You think about that, then start to get embarrassed. “I didn’t want to bother you, what if I get overly clingy and get you mad?” Sanji hears this and it’s like weight has been dropped from his heart, but hearing you say this so insecurely still makes him slowly sink to the ground. “Sanji?”

“Bother me.. being clingy.” Gods, he would do anything to have you cling to him when he’s cooking or shopping. “You could never, ever, not in an eternity, ever bother me by being ‘clingy’”

“But don’t you get busy? You work so hard cooking and when you’re out shopping you’re talking with women, wouldn’t I make it awkward if I butted in?” He hangs his head in shame, the few times that you’ve agreed to go shopping he has flirted with other women; but he had assumed you didn’t care. In a way, he would do it on purpose hoping to get a reaction, even looking back at you. Anything to show a sign you loved him, that he wasn’t a toy, but all he was doing was making things worse. This lack of communication was only causing pain to you both. How could he ever make this up to you? He was already unworthy and now he had dared to cause such suffering to the love of his life. “Baby…” You crouch down and cup his face so he’s looking at you, his eyes are teary.

“I hurt you.”

“We ended up hurting each other.” You wipe his tears with your thumbs. “Do you still want to be with me? Even if I've been messing up?”

“I should be the one asking you that, treasure. My love.” Sanji hugs you, pulling you close to him so you’re on his lap. You can feel his hesitance, the fear that you’ll pull away because he’s different now, but you don’t. Instead you press closer to him, lifting your head up to look at him. You don’t really initiate kisses, so you’re nervous as you place your lips on his. He’s only shocked for a moment before he kisses back, resting his hand on the back of your neck. This is the longest series of kisses you’ve had, almost a minute before you have to pull away. “S-Sorry, I’ve gotten better at holding my breath lately.” A bit awkward it’s from something he dislikes, though.

“So I don’t have to worry if I kiss you alot?” You ask and his pupils basically turn to hearts.

“No, you don’t.” Before you two can kiss again there’s the sound of the door unlocking, making you quickly get off of Sanji’s lap as he stands up so Robin and Nami don’t see you in an awkward position. They almost think that nothing has happened but seeing the two of you clearly panicked changes their mind, making Robin smile.

“It went well, then?” Robin chuckles happily as the two of you flush. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

_______________

Sanji hums as he cooks, a good mood from making up with you so amazingly. His ears perk up when he hears you come inside, not needing to look to know it’s you. “I’m almost done, my love.” He states as he expertly flips a steak. You don’t say anything, which confuses him but before he can turn around he feels your arms wrap around him and your body press against his back. His girlfriend, who hasn’t shown real affection until yesterday, is clinging to him while he cooks. Is this a dream?

“Don’t turn around, I’m still a little shy.” You say quietly and it echoes in his mind. Shy… shy… Gods, you’re too cute. His face goes red and he falls to the side, blood seeping from his nose. “Sanji!?” You manage to stop him from slamming fully onto the ground, shaking him. He’s in heaven, this is heaven.

#one piece x reader #fanfiction #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #angst/comfort #angst with a happy ending #sanji x reader #fem reader #female reader #sanji x female reader #one shot #one piece one shot

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hitlikehammers · 3 months ago

Text

Rockstar!Eddie Leaves What He Had With Steve Behind in Hawkins 💔 to Chase His Dreams 🎸

(so why is it that he’s back in Steve’s bed Hawkins every couple months for ‘very pressing reasons’ that are straining Steve’s heart honestly anything but? 🫤❤️‍🩹🥺)

NOTE: this was originally a fill from @eddiemunsonbingo AGES ago, and I’m only bringing it over here NOW because something for the @steddielovemonth is going to be posted soon that is a standalone in its universe, but also very much a sequel to it ♥️

Steve really does try not to think about it in terms of…time.

Maybe that’s foolish. It’s mostly denial. Lots of it isn’t reliable anyway: the score his body keeps isn’t accurate, war-time left over from too many near-misses with a fucking alternate dimension but the popping in his joints and the ringing in his ears and the white hair he pulled out of his scalp and stared blankly at in the sink for a good twenty minutes: those are real things, but they don’t chart the passage of days, of hours, months and fucking years with any real meaning.

It’s been four years. Roughly. Depending on what the start point is. Whether it’s that Spring Break. Whether it’s the first winter. Or the spring after, when Robin begged him to go with her—there’s still time. She still begs, because they still talk given the thread inside them stays tied unbreakable to one another, oblivious to miles between. Maybe it’s measuring from the graduations, the kids—only Erica’s left at Hawkins High, now, though Steve gets calls from the whole bunch of them, Eleven the most, which was maybe surprising, then it’s a good split between Dustin and Will, another surprise. Max calls enough but her calls are calls, with a weight most of the others lack. Lucas’s calls aren’t super frequent but always long, mostly because he talks around the point forever, whatever the point happens to be. Even Mike usually ends up on the other end of the line once a month. It’s…that could be where the time starts from.

Or it could be the summer, that first summer. The one that taught Steve what it was to have a heart just to fucking break it.

Could be that. Impossible to say.

(It’s been 3 years, 7 months, and 14 days. Steve had only counted in retrospect, in the wreckage left behind, because while he’d known there was a deadline in it, to it all, he’d thought he could be enough. That he could change a mind. He’d thought…

Foolish things. Bullshit. Didn’t matter. Could be any fucking date.)

But since the point's come up, and it’s front of Steve’s mind, his least favorite (most favorite) place to find it: he hadn’t expected it. Robin liked to say she saw the signs but. Steve hadn’t watched it happen in slow motion because there wasn’t a single goddamn slow thing about it. Which was…for whatever it was worth, Steve knew falling fast and hard and with everything he was had maybe failed him every time, thus far, but at least he knows that for him?

That means it’s real. He’s all in. He might not be met equal on the other side of the equation—hadn’t been yet, maybe wouldn’t be ever, but he wasn’t having any luck trying to fucking change that fact so, learning to work with what he had was the best he could do. And he had love. He’d never been able to name it to himself so far: not before, and certainly never since. But.

Figuring out the sexuality thing had been a not-bathroom-but-definitely-floor talk on the shitty Family Video carpet sometime around November of ‘85. Slow days, idle comments, and Robin’s suspiciously-but-reliably-gentle-when-the-need-was-dire hand to his shoulder to say no, no: actually wanting to kiss people of any gender wasn’t really…the default Steve had always expected it had to be. How could anyone look at, say, Harrison Ford and not think, oh yeah, I would at least suck his face?

Turned out probably at least half the people on the planet. As in the straight guys and the lesbians. Steve had spent the majority of three days on that disgusting fucking carpet, open to close, popping up to ask Robin if she was sure because what about—

She was sure. And eventually, through a couple of needs for deep breathing and a handful of assurances that it was okay to cry—he appreciated that, but he kept the crying to his room after these long-ass shifts and if Robin stayed for some of those times, that was because she was half his head, half his heart, and she knew what he was going to do sometimes before he did.

They did end up on the floor of his bathroom, a clean one for once, at one point. Maybe because they both held to tradition. Maybe because Steve had largely come to terms with the mindfuck of yet another piece of his world, his self unravelling and rewriting itself, and thought the vodka in his dad’s liquor cabinet was a good way to celebrate. The label was entirely in Russian and Robin had been practicing on hers, said she was pretty sure it was the good shit.

Sometimes you can drink enough of the best shit on an empty stomach, though, and still spew the whole of it up.

Steve sometimes does think he drinks his dad’s best liquor that way on purpose, though. Delightful going down and yeah, it sucks to chuck it up but. The idea that it’s ultimately wasted feels…right.

Anyway: Steve had settled with it all by New Year's, and while he’d hosted the rugrats who could only blabber about their latest campaign with their epic DM, and he’d kissed Robin when the clock turned, well. It felt like a new start, a fresh page.

Something that had the chance at being a good thing.

And nothing much happened in the two-and-a-half-months that followed save for finally catching a glimpse of the D&D god who ran their little club while he was idling in his car to pick up the shitheads, this legendary DM who did not make Steve jealous one tiny bit and who was cool and was edgy and was so fuckin’ cool, Steve, did we tell you got cool he is?! and Steve had said language as monotone as he could before he squinted as out came all the metal and the ink and he’d said your club president dude is Eddie goddamn Munson and he should have kept his mouth shut because the amount of talking that ensued left him with a headache the size of Montana; but.

That was really all that happened until about…mid-March.

Then Spring Break happened.

It could be argued Eddie and Steve grew close enough to pass the acquaintances benchmark, ended up as at least tentative friends on top of necessary battle mates as early as the Upside Down. Whatever reason Eddie gave, he jumped in after Steve. Whatever speech Steve landed on, he didn’t want Dustin orEddie hurt.

It could be argued Steve wasn’t paying attention and didn’t stop in time and landed in the land of Tentative Friends You Wouldn’t Mind Added Benefits With after the…at least after the way Eddie leaned in close and his lips we so red and he called Steve big boy and…

Yeah.

When Steve carries what may or may not be Eddie’s still fucking corpse out of the Upside Down—he can’t tell, every time he tries to check again his own heart's too loud, his own breaths too shaky—but by then, they’re family. Bound in blood. Steve would die for him, like the others. He won’t let him die, if he can fucking help it.

Between him and Max, Steve almost crashes, breaks. Steve’s there when Max’s fingers twitch and he laughs with tears in his eyes and hands over hands and tells her he loves her and he’s sorry and he’s there, tries to talk around the letter he opened and resealed without evidence because Steve knows some tricks too, okay, and her words had broken him but now he could live up to what she thought she was leaving behind, could make sure she had every goddamn thing she thought she was giving up in spades, to roll around in in abundance. He was going to take care of her, whatever she needed. Whatever it took.

Her lips had quirked and the doctors called coincidence, don’t get your hopes up but; Steve knew Max. That was all her.

And there were more tears, he let her fucking feel them; he fucking hoped she’d notice, and remember, and give him so much shit.

Eddie takes longer, pulls out of the woods enough to exhale a few days later, and the way Steve slips out to find the hospital chapel, the only goddamn place he won’t be found by anyone he knows, and bawls his goddamn eyes out?

It’s family, and it’s love because it’s family but…it’s been so quick. It’s been intense, and that probably speeds it along but…

Shit. Shit.

That’s when Steve knows he sets a new goddamn record for himself and falls hard and heavy and stupidin, like, a week and change. Jesus Christ.

It’s in the recovery that they build something though. Something that’s not trauma or terror or the threat of imminent death. Steve spends most of his hours between two hospital rooms listening to progress reports and taking notes and the kids gravitate toward Max—Dustin would have been the outlier but Steve knows he’s not ready, and so he gives his own updates just to his brother when he drives him home after visiting hours—but that means Steve’s Eddie’s most common conversation partner. They talk about bullshit. Steve defends a-ha to the last breath he has. Eddie’s rendered speechless for a second and then frantic when challenged to pick his favorite band. Again when it’s his favorite song, from his favorite band. And again when it’s his favorite song of any song, ever at all. Steve's heart swells in the watching. He’s foolish enough to bask in the glittering of Eddie’s eyes when Steve indulges in talking, scene by scene as guided by the master in the bed beside him, about what his opinions on Star Wars really were. And then guided by no one, just invited to share what his opinions are on the last movie he saw and loved: which was Weird Science, the last movie he watched in a theatre because he and Robin had gone to face their fear or some shit after Starcourt and it was easier than he’d expected. Eddie listens, and nods, and asks if they can rent it when he’s out, before making sure to add but you should really have a new choice like, eight months later, man, you work at a video store.

Steve was mostly just focused on Eddie more than implying, of his own volition, that he wanted to have a movie night.

Eddie’s released before Max, largely for mobility reasons, so they both go to visit her now. Robin’s put on the night shift when they schedule their movie night and Steve immediately moves to reschedule but she says no, she’s seen it, make Eddie suffer this time. So it’s just them.

They sit closer than they have to, on the couch.

And it’s little things that build from there. Max’s physical therapy is a government secret, like some fancy space-age protocol that has real hopes to put her on her feet again so she needs a ride, and while they could take turns, Steve and Eddie just take turns as to which vehicle they hop into to drive her. They stay when she needs them—not when she asks because she’s Max and she never asks—but it ends up three days a week back and forth and during: together.

And a lot of nights, for a movie or a smoke or a nightmare or a pulled stitch before they’re all taken out: together.

And shifts where Steve doesn’t even bother to bring his own lunch because Eddie Munson, unpredictable and wholly forgetful super-super senior—who Nancy and Hopper and most of all Joyce convinced the School would be finishing his final senior year at home save for tests, and only that once he was cleared by his doctors—that Eddie Munson brought Steve something every single time he worked. A burger, a chili dog, chicken fucking nuggets. A PB&J clearly homemade and cut diagonal.

So yeah. It starts out how it does when Steve’s in trouble. But it builds like…Steve’s never known before.

They kiss in May. Maybe so that it’s not their first, and a total cliche, when Steve kisses him for graduation behind the bleachers.

The sleep together after graduation, high on the thrill of it, and that’s maybe a cliche but Steve could not give a shit less.

And then they're EddieandSteve, only to find out they have been for a while; and this is just something a little deeper, a little bit more.

In ways that mean everything.

Looking back, Steve knows Eddie never minced words about his plan to leave Hawkins in the fall. With a mixtape and a prayer if I have to, Stevie-boy, he’d said once even, and Steve had laughed.

He’d fucking laughed.

So he’d known.

But July bleeds into August and Steve…Steve’s in love, okay, for real in a way that he’s never felt before. Right in a way he’s never felt before. He kinda just…overlooks it. Because Eddie seems to be at least on the same wavelength. Touches him first, reaches for him first: wants him. Looks at him with not just desire or attraction but…something no one’s ever looked at Steve with before.

And so he hopes. More than hopes.

But when Eddie starts packing, Steve can’t breathe.

He buys a set of luggage and goes home to start the same, has half of his not-excessive possessions shoved in when he realizes:

He’s not invited. Eddie’s never asked him to come.

Looking back, he’s afraid he wasted too much of those last weeks. Scared of giving too much away, the hurt from so many sides and the heartache that’s already taking root, but also: the way he clings, but tries not to make it obvious.

Fuck; but of course it was gonna be obvious, and how much energy did he waste, how many opportunities slipped by, because Steve was trying not to give away that Eddie leaving—to get away from a town that hated him, to try and make a real go with his music, to be anywhere without Steve so he could live out the dreams that predated Steve, that Steve had no place in—to try not to give away that all of it; it’d fucking destroy him.

Steve doesn’t know, to this day, how he stood and let Eddie kiss him breathless out the driver-side window, how he waved until Eddie was out of sight. He doesn’t know.

Kind of like he doesn’t know how he fucking keeps doing it.

Eddie throws tapes to every radio station with Van Halen or other top-played bands written on the insert in sharpie like that gives nothing away, and sneaks a demo in every underpaid delivery boy’s hands to record executives as he drives to the West Coast, sends Steve postcards what seems like has to be every goddamn day, filled up with his rambling until there’s no space left, has to draw lines around Steve’s address to make it clear where the damn thing’s going lest it get confused. Like they’re SteveandEddie still. Like only…only the things that changed after graduation are gone.

Steve sobs after about a month of it all, grateful and resentful, hateful and still so goddamn full of love it’s sickening. Literally, it makes him feel nauseous. He…

He keeps every postcard.

When one of them comes to say some idiot in San Francisco accidentally played Corroded Coffin on what’s apparently an important station, and Eddie got a letter in response from one of the labels, he says he’s coming back for the boys, they need to be ready. Steve knows he’s not one of the boys, but.

Eddie wouldn’t have told Steve he was coming if it wouldn’t matter to Steve. And maybe Eddie wasn’t in love with him anymore, maybe never was in love with him.

But he’d be lying if he said he thought Eddie didn’t love him. In a different way. A…you-don’t-get-to-come-with-me-but-I’d-still-want-to-see-you-when-I-stop-back kind of way.

And Steve…Steve’s not a fucking monk or anything. But even Robin doesn’t try to push him when he finally just tells her what he feels, lovesick and pathetic as it is:

I gave everything I had to someone else, and it’d be different if I wanted to back, to give again, but…I don’t.

I don’t want it back, not from him. Not if any part of him, wants to keep any part of it.

And because she’s Robin, she knows he means something else when he says ‘it’. And because she’s Robin? She’d push if she thought it was worth it.

She just holds him, and that’s really the best thing he could ask for.

But it becomes a thing. The boys go with Eddie, and they record new shit to impress...whoever. And they do. They come back for Halloween, because Eddie loves it. The label’s dragging its feet, but they’re not deterred, they’re energized. They come back for Thanksgiving because Wayne loves it—except he doesn’t, Steve knows that, Wayne actually hates trying to make a bird and Eddie had lamented more than once that they ended up with lunchmeat cut into cubes one year when Wayne was particularly frustrated with the process. They go out East, and try a few studios in New York. They come back for Christmas.

Eddie spends most of his time with Steve. Steve doesn’t fucking fight that; wants it…like…

There’s nothing to compare how he wants it to. Nothing exists that fits.

Eddie spends most of the time that he spends with Steve, though?

In Steve’s bed.

And here’s the thing: Steve had a decent amount of experience to compare to, but once they’d fallen into a rhythm, got past the awkward bits, the learning curve? Sex with Eddie had been a goddamn revelation. Not just because he was a man—after he’d left, Steve had forced himself to try, and dispelled that possibility quick as hell—and now?

Now, it’s like they never stopped. Every fucking time, it’s like they never stopped.

Steve’s not surprised in the slightest that he remembers every give and tell of Eddie’s body—of course he goddamn does—but that Eddie doesn’t miss a beat in touching, sucking, licking, worshippingSteve’s? That’s insane. That’s…

Unexpected. Every time it’s unexpected and every time Steve’s shown he wasn’t forgotten when he probably should have been. Eddie’s building a life that doesn’t include him.

He’ll only get in the way.

But Steve is selfish and stubborn and maybe it’s often, like almost strangely so, but it’s only a week or two at a go so he tells himself he’s allowed. He tells himself that it felt like making love in the beginning because Steve was in love, and that it still feels exactly the same because Steve…Steve never stopped.

Steve is still just as goddamn in love.

So yeah. Steve sleeps with Eddie and it’s like…it’s like rationed air. He gets a regular taste and he gets to keep breathing.

And it’s okay. Probably more then. Because he gets Eddie—even a little bit. Even just in scraps. When he has Eddie?

He has him, even for moments that were never made to last.

It’s Easter, this time. The band put out their first record in January. It’s doing really well. Eddie’s over the moon. Someone called about a magazine cover for a publication in Cleveland that’s apparently kind of a big deal, Alt..something. Steve will buy every copy in a fucking 100-mile radius. 200 miles. 500—

It’s Easter. Eddie didn’t lament not celebrating it after Spring Break in ‘86 but he’s back every year now. And if it’s just…come to mean something, or maybe did then and circumstances won out against it? Steve will be here. Steve will be comfort and a reprieve or a hot as hell romp with a familiar body, Steve will…

Yeah. Steve will do whatever’s needed. Wanted. Anything.

Pathetic.

But so much better than nothing.

Case in point: they’re both naked, sweat mostly dried, sharing a joint and it’s comfortable. It’s quiet and gentle and put up against sitting alone on a weeknight, not with Eddie?

It’s heaven.

“So when’s the dream happening?”

Steve looks cross-eyed toward his lips; he hasn’t smoked this thing long enough to have heard wrong. He squints up at Eddie, whose chest he’s laid out on, confused. Offers him the smoke but he waves it away.

“The dream?” Steve asks finally, when Eddie doesn’t seem to want to answer on his own.

Eddie looks at him weird. Not weird for its own sake but like: like he’s staring into him, and then like he’s disbelieving, but then also like he’s seeing him for the first time.

That kind of weird.

“Getting the fuck out of here,” Eddie answers like it’s obvious. “White picket fence. Little nuggets.” He spreads his hands as wide as possible without tossing Steve from where he lies. “See the sights.”

And Steve’s response is immediate. Doesn’t even require a thought.

He laughs. Like, ugly-laughs.

“Man,” he shakes his head as he catches his breath, and passes the joint off this time with purpose, not an offer or a choice as he snorts a little; “that’s not the dream.”

When Eddie doesn’t grab the smoke, Steve finally looks up. Eddie…

Eddie looks like what Steve’s always struggled to understand the word ‘poleaxed’ to mean. He thinks it might be this.

He looks…like something stuck him through the gut. Slapped him silly across the face.

“What d’ya mean?” And it’s just three words, one that’s a cheat, and he says it slow enough to take an age.

Steve breathes out, and then, if he’s gonna be honest, and if he has to keep holding the damn thing anyway, decides to take another drag before speaking:

“Figured out what the dream was, inside the dream,” Steve says, wondering if he’ll get away with the vagary; knowing he won’t.

“All we see or seem?” Eddie jokes a little, but it falls flat, his tone eerily kinda…strained but hollow.

“I like poetry.” Steve smiles up at him, soft, and offers the joint again straight to Eddie’s lips. He takes it this time.

“It was about family. It was about stability, not,” Steve shakes his head, stops talking half-assed around the lungful he’s holding, and lets it out slow; “not in a place, fuck, not in a house, but,” a person he doesn’t say, but he hears it in his head; “it was about sharing it.”

And that's it. That’s the simplest, most straightforward truth. Steve doesn’t think there’s anything complicated, or offensive in it. Hard to swallow. Even if he’s come to terms with it. Is mostly at peace with it.

Which is why it’s weird, that Eddie feels suddenly rigid beneath him.

So Steve turns, and braces his hand on Eddie's chest for balance, and frowns when he doesn’t even have to push down to feel the way his heart’s a fucking riot.

“What?” Steve asks, gentle; Eddie’s face is a portrait of conflict, of distress and Steve can’t fucking figure out why, they just came like four times between them and are sharing some very nice Cali weed—they’re nestled close, they’re together, it’s…

Eddie’s quiet, his breath disconcertingly steady for how his pulse pounds, and then he breathes out slow before covering his face:

“I don’t think I can fuck this up any worse than I already have, so,” he mutters, dejected for reasons Steve can’t even guess, then he laughs, humorless, shakes his head:

“Let me try, I guess.”

Steve frowns, uncomprehending, until:

“I’ve been in love with you forever.”

Steve thinks the world stops. His heart does, at least. Suspended. Silent so he doesn’t miss a syllable.

“And I told myself,” Eddie bites at his lip, worries at the bottom swell; “end of that summer, from the very first, I said: don’t ask him to come with you, even if it breaks your heart,” and oh god, oh god after all this time: Steve doesn’t think he’s projecting to hear the genuinely broken heart in those words for just remembering.

“Don’t ask him to settle, you’re not even in the same universe of what he wants,” fuck, what lies Eddie’s saying; did he believe them? Has he always—“what he needs.”

But Eddie is everything he needs, always was, will always be—

“You’ll never have the picket fence. You can’t give him his nuggets. You should never be trusted to park a Winnebago.”

They could have had a shitty studio apartment. They could have had the kids in college. They could have run the BMW until it died, or sold it to put toward a better van for equipment. They could have—

“You’re selfish, Munson, you’re a rat fucking bastard but,” Eddie’s still going, heart still hammering under Steve’s touch even as Eddie swallows hard and fails to smile, looks ill with the attempt like it hurts to try: “you love him too much for that.”

Oh. Oh god.

“It didn’t break my heart, though,” Eddie clears his throat and glances away, to the ceiling, eyes too bright: oh fuck; “broke my goddamn soul,” and a tear falls, and Steve can’t help but wipe it away, and kiss the track. Even just once.

So he does.

“When I saw you again that first time back,” Eddie starts again, voice rougher and shakier as he reaches a hand for Steve’s. “I could have asked the boys to fly out, the execs offered, but,” and this time, the attempt to grin is more successful, like a weight’s lifted from it: “and you smiled at me, it felt like,” and when he shakes his head this time it’s for disbelief, but the kind that comes with awe; “and when we slotted back together like we’d never been apart, it was…”

Eddie’s voice trails, but it cracks at the end—Steve doesn’t know which does more to stop his words.

He’s grateful, relieved, when they come back. He’s powerless but to give when Eddie touches his cheek so gentle and breathes:

“And I had to tell myself again, and again,” he murmurs, stroking Steve’s skin like he’s precious: “you love him too much to take his dream away from him.”

“What did it matter?” Steve can’t help but ask, no malice in it, just the need to understand. “You had your dream, you have—“

They have a contract. They have an album climbing the charts. They’re not just on their way—they’re there. The only next step is to get bigger, and bigger, and—

“Dreams within dreams, wasn’t it?” Eddie murmurs close to Steve’s cheek, where maybe he’s pressing to be close, or maybe he’s hiding a little, so Steve strokes his hair because he can either way and relishes how Eddie leans, melts into it like always. “Inside the dream?”

Steve nods, more to encourage more words. More Eddie.

“Break my dream open and there’s you with me, every step,” Eddie whispers, his lips warm on Steve’s skin. “Break my heart open, same damn thing,” and that causes Steve to shudder, and his heart to pick up now, too. “Both just kinda crumble if you take out the center.”

Steve can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Wants to. Doesn’t think they’re lies. It’s just, he…

“Those,” Steve tries to speak but his voice cracks; he clears his throat and kicks his lips while he tucks Eddie into his neck, under his chin: “those would be good lyrics.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head and nuzzles Steve’s throat with the motion and this can’t be happening.

This can’t be happening, can it?

“No, those words were only ever meant just for you.��

And Eddie kisses the pulse point close to his mouth and holds there, like a sentry and a miser, and holy shit.

Holy shit.

“And I don’t know,” Eddie’s saying more, but it’s pitchy, thready, like he’s barely holding the words together at all; “I don’t know if it’s nostalgia, or convenience, or routine,” his voice breaks again and the sob’s in the word when it comes even if it’s not streaming down on his cheeks: “pity,” and no, no, not fucking ever, how—

“I was never your dream then, and I don’t even know if I can be your inside-dream now, and,” Eddie’s rambling, and he does that when he’s desperate, when he’s overwhelmed and overfull with feeling—and Steve knows that. Steve knows that about him.

Steve knows. Better than he knows himself, Steve still knows him.

“I just want the world for you,” Eddie whispers, stroking up and down Steve’s jaw; “my sweetheart. My sunshine,” he smiles so real and soft and Steve melts, like the heart in his chest starts spilling through his ribs, warm and liquid: “you deserve more than the world, more than fuckin’ me and I,” Eddie shakes his head again, more this time like he’s stopping himself, like it’s a defense mechanism and Steve reaches for his cheeks, broad palms on either side to hold him still because…he doesn’t want Eddie to stop.

Ever.

“Did I ruin it?” Eddie breathes, and barely at that, eyes so wide and swimming and oh, god; “did I—"

And Steve can’t help it. He can’t help but kiss him with all he’s got, even if it couldn’t be all Eddie’s worth in all the world. Steve can’t contain all that Eddie’s worth.

But he can give everything, because this is the man who already has it.

“What the hell was I supposed to be to a rockstar?” Steve tries to talk through his own tight throat, his own growing smile, his own threat of tears bubbling close to the surface. “How the fuck was I ever going to measure up, ever do anything but hold you back when you could have—“

“I come back to you, for you,” Eddie answers immediate; it’s not what Steve’s asking but he won’t lie and say he didn’t want to know, at least a little. “The handful of times I’ve tried,” Eddie shakes his head once now, definitive; “I have always left my everything with you.”

The idea that Steve’s spent all this time feeling empty, and hollow, and missing the best of himself where it lived in the man he loved—the idea he was wrong, that they both were so fucking wrong is…insanity.

“I had a bag half packed.”

Steve doesn’t need to explain further. The noise Eddie makes is pure pain.

“Baby,” he nearly croons, falls into Steve somehow closer, wraps him up tighter; “I wanted to kidnap you in the night.”

“I sobbed in my bed after you were out of sight.”

“I pulled over before the town sign, because I couldn’t see the goddamn road.”

And Steve…Steve doesn’t really have a decision to make about what he says next. What dream he wants; always has.

“I never got rid of the luggage.”

And Eddie hears everything he says in those words, because after everything, Eddie Munson knows him, and…yeah.

Steve’s been kissed in a lot of ways before. By this man in particular, even.

But this: if leaving broke Eddie’s soul, if somehow the lack of Steve somehow did that?

This is…this is the body meeting another body, heart to heart and tasting the way a soul slides back in place. It's Eddie’s hands in his hair like hell never let go and he’s happy about the idea; blissful for it, even. It’s—beyond anything Steve’s ever known. So: yeah.

It’s not a decision. It’s just a fucking given.

♥️

🎸also on ao3

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#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #future fic #post s5 #angst with a happy ending #miscommunication #romance #tenderness #fluff #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington stays in hawkins #fuck buddy #but does it count if you’re exes and your still friends and you do it all the time?#like it can’t even be reunion sex because one party is always finding and excuse to come back #and it can’t even be make-up sex because they didn’t FIGHT they just…were DONE #chasing your dreams #(and recognizing when those dreams sometimes change)#yes eddie walked away from a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love #(he had his reasons I promise)#yes he makes detours to hawkins almost confusingly often for a successful musician 🤨#(YES he ends up in steve’s bed every time)#happy ending #stranger things #eddie munson bingo #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes

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